#SMASH THAT REBLOG IF YOU KNOW THE FEEL
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ahollowgrave · 10 months ago
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hitting smash on every single smash or pass that i come across :pray:
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thefrogdalorian · 1 year ago
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Having of those moments where I wish to yeet the like button into the sun or maybe make it so there was setting you could turn on so that people can only reblog posts (even better with the minimum requirement of adding at least one tag)!!
It's kind of absurd that one of my fics is getting close to 500 notes while simultaneously being one I've had the least actual human interactions come from. Like...... come on, that's now how it should be AT ALL!
Don't get me wrong, I'm so thrilled people are clearly finding it and I guess enjoying it(??) but just having endless likes without people letting me know what they enjoyed about it or even if they liked it kind of makes me sad. That's not why I want to share my writing here!
I love having those little human connections with others. I don't ever want my writing to feel transactional. I would love to talk to more people about things I've written. It's truly one of the best feelings and I would hate to lose that, the more I write or the more notes my fics get. Please don't be shy!! I get the social anxiety, but there is no reason to be. I am truly just a Din Djarin obsessed loser.
Anyway, whine over. I don't want to focus on the negatives here and I appreciate every single person who has ever left a positive interaction with something I've written. You are truly a light!
#i don't JUST like posts too often#really the only posts i dont reblog but like are to save for later or if it's too personal/explicit#or i guess i have nothing to add and OP has said it all yknow#but if i see some writing or art i love then hell yeah i always force myself to add at least one tag i like just so the artist/author sees#otherwise it feels like a hollow transaction and i really want people to know i appreciate their art more than just pressing a button yknow#and I KNOW it's intimidating at first to interact with others!! TRUST ME i get it and i'm still awful at it#but just one little comment can make someone feel so good about their writing... why wouldn't someone want to try that at least#especially if you enjoyed it!!! even a key smash or a string of emojis!!!#and the death of the tumblr tag is SO SAD because where else am i meant to talk to you lot?#i mean these tags are longer than my actual post and that's the beauty of tumblr#you don't have to perceive me down here but you can if you wish and i love you for that!#and it's a nice way to organise your blog to make it navigable for others#ANYWAY said i was done whining and continued whining down here so there's that LOL but i always want to interact with more people#please do not be afraid of reaching out to me! scroll through my blog for 5 seconds and you'll see what a nerdy loser i am#akdjgds i mean aren't we all here#spud rants#writing#but thanks again to anyone who leaves nice comments im giving you a (consensual) forehead smooch MWAH
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bluebellhairpin · 2 years ago
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:/ feeling like I'm not doing enough for other fic writers, since when I read fics i reblog them but don't really add comments, but then I think back to literally a few weeks ago where I'd read fics and then do nothing at all unless I knew the author or I really had something to say about what I read. I'm slowing getting better, bc rebloging without comments is better than not reblogging at all.
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missadangel · 15 days ago
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MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU
Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)
Chapter 7: Apologize
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Chapter Summary: When you call it quits on secrets, it’s funny how more of them spill out. Then Harry comes sprinting after you, begging for forgiveness. I mean, how can you say no to that face? Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. Chapter Word Count: 10,5k, ROMANCE, feelings!!! fluffy, rom-com, lust, passion, jealousy, dirty talk, love triangle authors note: Thank you all for your support, asks, comments, reblogs and likes. I appreciate each and every one of you! Love you all!
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As the elevator headed up to the penthouse, disbelief hit you hard. How could Harry have lied to you like that? You’d been cleaning his place without even knowing it. It felt like a total betrayal, but honestly, you were more pissed off than anything. Then another thought struck you—those cameras. Had he been watching you this entire time?
“Jerk. Fuckin' asshole.”
“Huh?”
Right, you were in the elevator with Mia, this little girl you just met, both of you heading to the same flat. But it was clear you had a shared goal. The elevator chimed as you reached the penthouse, and Mia stopped you. “I need to do something first.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.
Mia peeked out of the elevator, checking the area. “The cameras,” she said.
You were caught off guard.
“I can’t let my mom find out I’m here, so I need to shut them down before we go in.”
“Your mom is Maria, right?”
“You know her too? Who even are you?”
With a smirk, you said, “Just think of me as your partner in crime.”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “Partner in crime?”
Leaning in a bit, you said, “I want to take down those damn cameras too.”
She thought about it for a second, narrowed her eyes, and then glanced at your uniform. “So that’s you, huh? My mom mentioned you.”
“What did she say?”
She smirked. “You are the girl who made Uncle Harry look like he’d been hit by a truck.”
You giggled. “I really want to hit him with a truck right now. Because you see, I didn't know it was his apartment when I was cleaning here, he played a trick on me. And as if that wasn't enough, he watched me on the cameras. So what do you say, partner? You want to smash those cameras?”
She frowned. “Smash them? What are you, a vandal?” She took his tablet out of her school bag. “Here, I'll activate the app here, but since we're partners, I need you to turn on the signal first, can you do that?”
You felt like an idiot next to this smart 10-year-old girl. “Okay, tell me what to do, partner.”
“Since you're the cleaning lady who always comes here...”
“Maid.” 
“Yeah, maid, whatever. I need you to go to the control panel on the wall and choose the option to connect to nearby devices.” 
You frowned. “Why can’t I just walk over and hit the button to turn off the camera? There has to be an option for that.” 
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks Einstein, if you do that, the camera's feed will be disabled and Uncle Harry will receive a notification, which could make him suspicious. I’ll just link to the camera from the tablet and adjust its angle. Then there won't be anything to worry about. It's not like Uncle Harry is going to be monitoring the camera constantly during his meetings at work.”
Now you felt even more silly; it was a super clever plan. “Wow, you’re really smart,” you said. She styled her hair like her mom. “I know. Just go do what I say.”
You chuckled softly, “Understood, ma’am.”
She flashed a grin.
As you entered the apartment, you acted casually, avoiding the cameras while strolling down the corridor. “It feels like I’m in a movie,” you whispered to yourself. You quickly connected to the cameras through the control panel’s touch screen and hit "add device." Moments later, Mia's tablets name appeared, confirming the connection.
“Connection complete,” Mia announced as she walked in.
“High five, girl!” you said, extending your hand.
She laughed and high-fived you back. “We make an awesome team. I like you.”
“I like you too, Mia,” you replied with a wink.
Looking at the cameras, you realized Mia was indeed controlling them from her tablet. They were all aimed toward the corners, so as long as you didn’t walk by, the cameras wouldn’t catch you. Mia sprawled out on the couch as if it were her own home and started watching a video on her tablet. Glancing at her knee, you noticed it was slightly bleeding.
“Hey, let me take care of that knee,” you said, heading to grab a first aid kit. When you returned, you sat beside her and cleaned her wound with some alcohol. “Is this because you skipped school today? Is it about your mom?”
She sighed. “Yeah, it’s about her and my dad. They keep saying they’ll get divorced, but nothing changes.”
You paused. That must be tough for her. “I didn’t know; that sounds rough. How do you feel about it?”
She shrugged. “I just want them to figure it out already. I’m so tired of their drama and constant arguing.”
“I get it. If it ever gets to be too much, just call me. My place isn’t nearly as big as this one—barely bigger than the living room—but I’ll make room for you. What do you think?”
Mia smiled with a maturity beyond her years. “Thanks, you’re a really good friend.”
You smiled back and wrapped her knee with some bandages. “Alright, don’t take this off until tomorrow, got it?” 
“Got it, thanks,” he said as he flopped back onto the couch. “You’re mad at him, huh?” 
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really angry. I just want to break everything in here,” you muttered while glancing around. 
“How mature,” he remarked quietly. 
Feeling a bit embarrassed, you looked at her. “I mean, of course I won’t actually do that.” 
“My mom did,” she replied, surprisingly calm. “She broke everything in Dad’s office. You adults can be super childish sometimes, and then want us to act like we’re grown-ups.” 
You let out a nervous laugh. “You’re not wrong; we can be pretty childish about things.” 
“Just talk it out and figure it out,” she said.
You grabbed the first aid kit and stood up. “What if I’m so mad at him that I don’t even want to talk?”
She smiled. “I don’t think you are.” You raised an eyebrow. “Well, I hope you are not, because I don’t want him to be upset.” She was messing with something on her tablet.
You loved how she was just like her mom, always keeping an eye on Harry. “I don’t want to upset him, honey, but I have to make him eat a little humble pie, okay?”
“But you’ll forgive him later, right?” she asked with hope in her voice.
“Of course, I love him,” you said softly.
“Awesome,” she said, clearly happy, and went back to playing with the tablet.
“Well, I guess I should get back to my chores,” you said, heading into the kitchen to start cleaning up.
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“What's up?”
Oliver stepped into his office to find Harry staring at his tablet with a frown.
“There’s something wrong with the cameras. They won’t rotate and there’s no sound coming through. Do you think there's a bug in the app?”
“Maybe your girlfriend got fed up with the cameras and sabotaged them,” he quipped, taking a closer look. “Let me see.”
“I can't blame her,” Harry replied, guilt creeping in.
Oliver noticed Harry’s troubled look as he fiddled with the app. “Seriously, when are you going to tell her?”
“I’m planning to do it tonight,” Harry said with determination. “I just couldn’t find the right moment this morning.”
At that moment, Maria walked into the office. “Harry, I'm seriously considering taking that tablet away from you. You’ve been messing with it more than Mia. I worked really hard to convince them—it’s not worth ruining the meeting over.”
“He was just worried he couldn’t see his girlfriend on the camera,” Oliver muttered.
Harry shot him a glare.
“Okay, that’s enough. I’m calling her right now and telling her everything,” Maria said, pulling out her phone.
Harry jumped up and grabbed the phone from her hand. “Stay out of it. I’ll handle this.”
Just then, her phone began to ring. “School,” Harry said, handing her phone back to Maria.
Maria picked up immediately. “Hello? Yes, this is her mom.”
Harry glanced at Oliver. “Have you fixed it yet?”
“Nope, it’s weird. It’s like someone else has logged into the cameras on their phone and taken over.”
“What did you just say?”
They both turned to Maria, who looked concerned. “Okay,” she said, hanging up.
Harry frowned. “Is everything okay?”
“Mia,” Maria said as she dialed another number. “Her teacher said she didn’t show up to school today. Come on, pick up the damn phone.” But Maria’s face dropped when Mia's dad said he hadn’t seen her either.
“Or perhaps she went back home,” Oliver added.
“We’ll find out now,” Maria said, pulling up an app on her phone.
Harry moved closer to her. “What are you doing?”
“Tracking Mia with a smartwatch app,” she said, waiting for the app to locate her. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll try the app that tracks her phone.”
“Geez, Maria. Have you planted a bug on her, too?” Oliver said with a smirk.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she did,” Harry scoffed.
“You’ll understand when you become parents,” Maria replied, giving them a pointed look.
“Hopefully not for a long time,” Oliver said.
Harry chuckled at the idea.
“There! I’ve got it,” Maria said, her eyes widening. “Oh no. Harry, you need to see this,” she said, showing him her phone screen.
Harry froze, staring at the location the app found. “No…Fuck...”
Oliver leaned over to take a look. “Damn, this is your apartment.”
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Cleaning duty today felt tougher than usual. Ever since you discovered it was Harry’s house, things had started to feel different, especially now that you were technically his girlfriend. It made you feel a bit like a housewife, which was both thrilling and painful at the same time. You still needed answers, as you felt genuinely hurt. But your love for him was so strong—what could you really do? Deep down, you weren’t sure how long you could cling to your anger. With your pride and stubbornness tossed aside, you weren’t thinking straight anymore, so you chose to let it go for now.
As you walked through the hallway with the cleaning bucket, your eyes landed on that door—the locked door.
The secret room.
What was Harry hiding behind it? There were no keys in sight, so how would you ever get it open?
Did Mia know about this room?
When you walked in to check on her, her eyes were closed; was she asleep? Just as you turned to slip out quietly, you caught a hint of a muffled sound—no, she was crying.
“Mia? Are you okay?”
She sniffled and nodded, but kept her eyes shut. You moved to sit beside her on the couch. “Hey, what’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing... just nothing.”
You gently patted her head. “You sure?  You can tell me. I'll keep it between us, I promise.”
“My mom and dad... I hate them, especially my mom. They decided to get divorced without even consulting me. I don’t want them to split up, but they didn’t even ask how I feel. They won’t love me anymore, and they’re going to be busier with their work.”
“Shh, don’t think like that. Of course, they’ll still love you. They’re your parents, and their love for you will never fade, I assure you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because a mother’s love for her child is unconditional; it can’t just vanish. You're not the reason they're breaking up, I swear. Sometimes, even if adults love each other, things get messy, and splitting up is the only way to handle it. It might seem like the end, but it can also lead to something better.”
“Really?” she murmured, her eyelids growing heavy.
“Absolutely, trust me. You’re lucky to have both your mom and dad around; I’m sure they’ll take care of you, even if things change. I kind of envy you because I lost my mom, and I'll never get the chance to tell her how much I miss her. I wish she were still alive. As for my dad... it feels like he doesn’t care about me—he doesn’t even bother to call, you know?” Your voice cracked slightly. “But your mom and dad are with you and must have been searching for you all morning, haven’t they, Mia? I’m sure they are worried—”
Looking down, you saw that she had fallen asleep, holding your hand tightly. A smile crossed your face as you wrapped your other arm around her. Suddenly, you felt tired too, and before you knew it, you drifted off beside her.
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“Mia? Sweetie?” Maria called out for her daughter.
You blinked awake, realizing Harry’s face was mere inches from yours, and his hand was gently resting on your cheek. You stared at him for a moment before pushing his hand away and getting off the couch.
How did you even fall asleep?
Mia stirred and rubbed her eyes. “Mom?”
“What happened to your knee?” Maria's voice rang out.
“It’s nothing, just a little scrape. I fell in the street, and she helped me clean and bandage it.” She pointed to you.
All eyes turned to you, but you avoided their gazes. You forced a smile at Mia and quickly looked away. “I think it’s time for me to go. I hope you enjoyed my service, Mr. Castillo,” you said, trying to sound casual as you made your way to the door.
Oliver stood by the entryway, looking guilty.
“Wait,” Harry called after you. Just then, Maria touched your shoulder.
“Thank you. I’m so relieved that Mia has been with you all day,” she said, pulling you into a hug that took you by surprise.
“You’re welcome, she’s a very smart girl,” you replied, feeling a bit evasive.
She beamed at you, and you offered a smile back, though it felt awkward given the situation.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Harry approached you from behind, his voice soft but insistent.
You turned to face him. “With whom? With your girlfriend? Or with your maid-in?”
Harry let out a troubled sigh, his frustration evident as he glared at you. You turned away again. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, stepping closer to the door.
Maria nudged Harry from behind, encouraging him to move. He stepped in front of you, causing you to halt abruptly.
“How can you say there’s nothing to talk about? There’s plenty,” he insisted, moving closer and locking eyes with you.
You turned your head away again. “Were you trying to get revenge? If you wanted to talk, you should have spoken up sooner.”
“Revenge?” he replied, confused.
“So because I lied to you from the start and deceived you, this was your way of getting back at me?”
“I would never, never do that,” he shook his head, his expression earnest.
“Is it out of pity then?”
His brown eyes darkened with frustration. “You know it’s not like that.”
“Then why, Harry? Why did you hire me for this job without giving me a heads-up? You totally deceived me. Did you actually enjoy watching me on camera the whole time?”
“I’m sorry. I felt responsible because you were unemployed because of me, and I wanted to help—”
“It wasn’t because of you! Besides, I could have found a job myself. You didn’t need to use your money or power. Did you really think I would feel better about this? Right now, I just feel like a complete idiot. How could you do this to me?”
Maria took Mia’s hand and started to leave. “You two talk it out; we’ll give you some space, come on, Ollie.”
“No, there’s nothing left to say,” you snapped angrily.
"But you'll forgive him later, won't you?" 
"Of course, I love him." 
Oh no, that sounds just like what you told Mia earlier.
Did she record you? 
"Mia!" you complained, glancing at her.
She just shrugged, holding her tablet. "Sorry, my finger slipped."
"That's my girl," Mia said with a giggle, as she high-fived her. 
Oliver chuckled, and Harry smiled. 
But you narrowed your eyes at them, feeling furious. 
"Oops, we should get going," she said to her mother. They quickly headed for the elevator, leaving you alone with Harry.
But before you could go after them, Harry came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off your feet.
“What are you doing? Harry! Put me down!” 
“Nope. You're going to listen, sweetheart. No more running away.” 
“Let go!” you protested, but he refused to budge. 
 He carried you to the couch and set you down next to him, holding your hands tightly, but you turned your head away. 
“Baby, please forgive me. I tried to explain before, but I just couldn’t find the right words. I thought helping you find a job would make you happy. I never meant to offend or hurt you; please believe that.” 
“Did it have to be your house?” you grumbled. 
“Isn’t this better than being at someone else's place?” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
His hand trembled as he sighed. “I mean, I hate this too. It hurts to see you so exhausted, to watch you work so hard, and I can’t stand the thought of your beautiful hands being worn down in those cleaning gloves. I want to kiss those lovely fingers, to cherish them.” 
As he began to kiss your fingers one by one, your heart raced. You almost let your guard down, almost kissed him.
Almost.
“Harry,” you whispered. “This is my job, and—” 
“Don’t,” he interjected, frustration evident in his voice. “Can’t you just skip the cleaning? You can keep working with Chef Bruno, but please, no more cleaning.” 
“Is it because you don’t want to introduce your girlfriend in that way?” 
“No, what I mean is—” 
You stood up, your frustration boiling over. “I’m sorry, but this is my life. I have no problem introducing you to my friends, but it seems you hesitate to do the same. I can’t change who I am.” 
He rose to his feet as well. “I don’t know how we ended up here. I never intended for this to happen. Listen-” 
“Harry, you listen. I understand your intentions, and I appreciate them, but I wish you had considered how I might feel in all of this. And I can't do this if...” 
“Wait a minute, why do I feel like you’re giving a breakup speech?” 
“Because I am,” you said, tears brimming in your eyes. 
“No, no, no, don’t do that.” He moved closer, but you took a step back and raised your hand. 
“We agreed there would be no secrets between us, but we couldn’t even manage that. How can our relationship develop from here?” 
“There are no secrets left now that everything is out in the open,” he said, trying to smile. You crossed your arms and bit your lip, acknowledging his point. Then he drew nearer and wrapped his arms around you.
“I promise, baby, there will never be any secrets between us again, I swear,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his breath soft and tender. “Please don’t leave me.” The plea struck deep within you, twisting like a knife. How could you even entertain such a thought? The very idea of parting from him was unbearable, a wound that throbbed in your chest and brought stinging tears to your eyes. It was the last thing you wanted—a painful notion that sent ripples of hurt through your heart.
In that moment, you set aside all other emotions and surrendered to the warmth of his embrace, allowing yourself to rest your head on his chest for a while.
“What about that locked room?” you asked then, glancing toward it, wiping your tears meanwhile. “I wonder what you’re hiding behind that door.” 
A sly grin crept across his face. “Do you want to see it? But promise me that once you see what’s inside, you’ll tell me you love me again, and you won’t leave me. Deal?” 
“It all depends on what’s in there.” 
He chuckled, then walked into the bedroom, still holding your hand. Nervousness washed over you as you tried to pull your hand back. 
“Relax, I’m not trying to lure you into bed,” he laughed. “At least, not right now.” 
“You wish,” you grunted. 
He chuckled as he opened the nightstand drawer. “Funny. You were practically begging me last night. I can still hear you meowing.” 
Your cheeks flushed. “I don’t remember any of that,” you lied. 
He pulled out a box from the drawer and took out a key. “I have the scars on my back to prove it, kitten,” he teased. 
Your face was burning now, as red as a tomato. “Stop it and do what you need to do.” 
Chuckling, he held up the key, “Here it is; come on,” taking your hand again. 
Together, you stood in front of the locked door. Harry inserted the key into the lock and paused to look at you. “Are you ready, baby? The big secret is about to be revealed.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Stop showing off and open the damn door,” you muttered. 
Grinning, he unlocked the door and stepped back, inviting you in with his hand.
You hesitated before stepping into the room, shocked at what you saw. 
To your left stood a massive floor-to-ceiling wardrobe filled with clothes, and to your right was a complete wardrobe of bags and shoes. In the center was an elegant dressing table. Harry slid open the wardrobe, revealing all the clothes and shoes he had ever bought you, carefully arranged. He embraced you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing your cheek. “It’s all yours. This room is for you. I was waiting for you to say yes to me before I revealed it to you.  I kept it locked and tried to stay away, but I found it hard to resist many times,” he whispered, nuzzling along the curve of your neck.
You were rendered speechless, taken aback. Then you noticed a jewelry box on the dresser. “Isn’t that the earring?” You walked over, picked it up, and examined it closely. “Have you had this all along?” 
“Oops, looks like another secret is out,” he said with a chuckle. 
You shot him a pointed look. “You really. Why didn’t you say anything when I told you I would pay you back?” 
“Because you broke my heart,” he replied softly. “You told me you never wanted to see me again, so I thought the earring would be a good excuse to get you to meet me.” 
“You're unbelievable,” you shot back, your irritation surfacing. 
“What about you?” he countered, but then his expression softened as he noticed the look on your face. “I love you,” he confessed, his lips forming the word like an apology. 
Damn he was so cute.
His adorableness made you giggle despite yourself. 
“You didn’t say it again.” 
“Say what?” 
“Do you want me to make you say it? Just like last night,” he whispered, leaning in close. “You remember how well that turned out.” His lips brushed against your earlobe as his hand slowly slipped down, hovering dangerously close to your thigh. Your reaction was instinctive; you caught his hand. However, his lips found their way to your neck, and you couldn't help but bite your lower lip and roll your eyes. “Harry, stop.” 
“I know you want me, baby; don’t try to deny it,” he purred, his voice low and teasing. 
“No, you’re wrong,” you replied, almost breathless. 
“Then why are you holding my hand so tightly?” he whispered, a smirk playing on his lips. 
You withdrew your hand quickly, shocked at your own reaction.
What the fuck?
When did this escalate?
You frowned at his chuckle. “I really hate you,” you whined, though your irritation was half-hearted. 
“No, you don't,” he laughed, clearly enjoying the banter. 
“Well, I really like this room, but that doesn’t mean I forgive you. And it definitely doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into bed with you,” you declared stubbornly. 
“Then what do I need to do to win your forgiveness? I’ll do anything,” he said, voice dripping with seduction.
The look he gave you was enough to make you avert your gaze. 
“I don’t know; I need to think,” you said, fighting back a giggle. “But I have to go now—I told Bruno I would head to the hotel early.” You turned to leave the room. 
He followed right behind you. “I’ll give you a ride.” 
You responded without looking back. “Well, if you’re that eager.”
With a smile, he followed you behind as you walked toward the elevator.
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“Have you forgiven me yet?” Harry asked again as he parked the car in front of the hotel.
“You just asked me that five minutes ago."
“I’ll keep asking until you say you forgive me,” he replied, shutting off the engine.
You opened the door and turned to him. “At least let me think it over.”
He took your hand, pulled you closer, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek. “Whatever you say, kitty. Good luck at work.”
“Thanks for the ride,” you said with a faint smile, stepping out and closing the door behind you.
As you made your way to the hotel entrance, Harry watched you from the driver’s seat. Just then, you spotted Alan getting out of his own car, heading your way.
“Good evening,” he greeted you.
You turned and smiled, “Good evening, Mr. Finnegan.”
“Come on, call me Alan already, will you?”
Harry, watching from a distance, muttered, “Asshole.” Trying to keep his cool, he stepped out of the car and approached you two. “Baby,” he called out, and before you could react, he spun you around and kissed you so passionately that it left you breathless. Pulling back, he glanced at Alan and added, “I almost took off without kissing my girlfriend goodbye.” The way he said “girlfriend” caught his attention and everyone around the street.
Alan’s expression darkened.
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, caught off-guard by how intimate the kiss had been.
“Anyway, I should be on my way,” he said.
"Yeah, you do that," you said, squinting at him and gesturing for him to leave.
“Good night, Finnegan,” Harry said, getting into his car, clearly amused by Alan's reaction.
Shaking your head at Harry, you noticed Alan squinting at him, clearly unamused. “I didn’t realize you were with him,” Alan said as he walked inside.
“Well, things are a bit complicated,” you murmured.
“Not surprising, things always get messy with Castillo,” Alan muttered quietly. 
“Excuse me?”
“I just... You really should think twice about being with him,” he warned lightly.
“Alan, it’s—”
“Anyway, I suppose my employees’ personal lives are none of my business,” he said with a smirk, heading toward the elevator.
What just happened?
Why had he said that?
And why was he suddenly in a good mood?
You really should have asked Harry about the weird thing between them, but now you had to focus—you had a kitchen to get to.
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Things were really hectic in the kitchen, and as if that weren’t enough, Alan was having a business lunch in the dining room and asked you to make some desserts just for him. As you handed off the treats to the waitstaff, he called you over and praised your work. If he wasn’t your boss, you might have said something about his overwhelming attention, but you figured it was best to keep quiet until your internship was over. Then, just when you thought the day couldn’t get any worse, Melanie called.
“What do you want?” you asked, annoyed.
“What do I want? I need you to talk to my dad, and I want you to do it right now, like you promised!”
“I will, but I've been super busy and haven’t had time yet.”
“Well, it’s on you. If my dad doesn’t let me come back home, I’ll just crash at your place.”
“Wait, what? You called my house a disgusting little flat. Aren’t you with Nate? Can’t he help you out?”
“Don’t even mention that jerk!”
“Did you two break up already? Wow, that was quick, even for you.”
“Just drop it, okay? It’s none of your business. Talk to my dad tomorrow night or I’ll make your life miserable!”
“As if you weren’t already a pain in my ass!” you shot back and hung up in frustration. As you walked toward the exit, muttering under your breath, someone called out from behind.
Ugh, it was Alan again.
“Are you okay? You sounded like you were venting at someone on the phone,” he said, wearing that annoying smile.
“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
“Well, if you did it, they probably deserved it,” he said, grinning.
Just when you thought it was over, you turned to leave but almost bumped into the revolving door. Alan grabbed your arm, pulling you back.
“Watch out!” he said.
What the hell?
You could’ve easily dodged the door; you weren't that clumsy. His other arm wrapped around you, too.
“Thanks, but I’m fine,” you said, carefully pushing his hand away. “Have a good night.”
“You too,” he replied, watching you walk away as you stormed out. Your phone buzzed again, but you ignored it; you weren’t in the mood for more of Melanie’s drama.
Suddenly, you heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Harry.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone? Are you okay?” he asked, and just seeing him made you feel so much better.
“Yeah, sorry, thought it was Melanie,” you said, spotting the bouquet of pink roses he was holding.
“Is she still being a pain?”
“Forget about her; I’ll handle it. Are those for me?” you asked, trying to hide your smile.
“Of course they are, beautiful,” he said, handing you the flowers.
“Thanks,” you said, taking a whiff of the roses.
“Come on, let’s get to the car.”
As you walked together, he leaned closer. “Am I forgiven?”
You rolled your eyes. “Not in a day, ol'man.”
Harry sighed and opened the back door for you. “So, if I asked you to spend the night at my apartment instead of going home, you wouldn’t consider it?”
Ah, damn...
Those puppy-dog eyes and dangerously tempting lips made it hard to say no, but you somehow managed to act like you weren't interested, thanks to your stubbornness.
And the oscar goes to...
“N-no, sorry, I need to check on Zoe. She’s still home alone,” you stammered.
He sighed again and closed the door after you settled in the car.
“Hey, Ollie,” you said while he was chilling in the driver’s seat.
“Hey, girl! How’s it going? You two good now?”
“We’re good, right, baby?” Harry said, sitting next to you.
“Kind of,” you muttered, still eyeing the roses in your lap.
“Kind of?” Harry raised an eyebrow.
You shrugged, teasing him.
“Come on, really? Okay, I’m taking you on a date tomorrow night, and we’re going to sort everything out,” Harry grumbled.
“Uh-oh,” Oliver chimed in as he drove.
You squinted at Harry. “If you ask me with that tone, you might be going on that date alone.”
“Okay, sorry,” he said with a sigh. "Would you like to accompany me for dinner tomorrow night, lovely lady?"
You giggled but kept your expression cool. “Um, let me check my calendar first.”
Oliver chuckled.
Harry squinted again.
“Alright, fine. But I need to have a quick chat with Jack tomorrow. If he agrees, you can pick me up at the hotel again.”
He smiled widely taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “As you wish, darling.”
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As you stepped into the apartment, the sweet scent of the bouquet Harry had given you lingered in the air, enveloping you until you finally reached your place with the flowers cradled in your arms. When you opened the door and walked inside, you were taken aback by the scene in front of you.
“Oh sweet Jesus!”
John and Zoe were on the couch, wrapped up in a passionate kiss—thankfully, they were fully dressed. The moment they noticed you, they pulled apart, and John shot up from the couch, his face a canvas of embarrassment.
But you felt even more embarrassed. “Oh, I’m sorry, guys, I, uh…”
“No, no, no, I’m so sorry!” John stuttered, quickly averting his gaze, adjusting his hair.
“Awkward,” Zoe murmured, covering her mouth in surprise. “I thought you were with your boyfriend,” she added, glancing at you and the bouquet still in your hands.
“Well, yeah… I mean, no, I wasn’t. It’s a long story.”
“I’d better be going. Bye, girls. Good night,” John said, grabbing his jacket and making a hasty exit.
Once the door closed behind him, you turned back to Zoe. "Jesus, girl, what just happened?"
Zoe huffed in disbelief. "I have no idea! He helped me change my bandage, touched my leg and then… suddenly we kissed. It was so strange, but it felt amazing."
“Strange”? You seemed pretty into it."
“It might have turned into something really hot if you hadn’t barged in,” she replied with a hint of annoyance.
“Sue me,” you muttered, placing the flowers in a vase on the table.
“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. You were with him last night, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, it’s a long story.”
“Still not officially together? Seriously, get your shit together already. What’s going on with you two?”
You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Just when I think things are finally going well, something messes it all up, and I'm left feeling hurt again…”
“Uh-oh, spill everything.”
"Okay, do you want something cold to drink?"
"Yes, please! I’m dying of heat over here."
You giggled as you made your way to the fridge. “So if I had come in five minutes later, would you have been completely undressed? Good thing I didn’t.”
“You're so bad,” she laughed.
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You began the day with that text that pinged on your phone the moment you woke up, that familiar message from the person you had been longing to hear from, the one you had been waiting for eagerly.
Morning, kitten. The sun is shining, the birds are singing— Isn't it the perfect day to make you feel like forgiving?
Was he rhyming?
He was really good at it or bad not sure, but he would have to try a little harder.
Hmm. I'm not sure if today is the day. You'll know for sure tonight, doll. I'll make you. Hmm, how ambitious. Always I am.
After you changed, you stepped into the living room and saw Zoe was getting ready.
“Where are you off to?”
“To the hospital to get my ankle checked.”
“Do you want some company?”
“John will,” she replied with a cheeky smile. “Besides, you’ll be off on your date with Harry tonight, right?”
Your cheeks warmed at the thought. “Well, yes, maybe.”
“I’m planning to invite John over for dinner, and he’d better come clean about something tonight.”
“Oh, I see, you’re trying to get rid of me, huh?”
"Come on, he shares an apartment with three guys; it’s more convenient for us to be here."
“Okay, don’t worry, I won’t crash tonight,” you replied with a grin, thoughts drifting to Harry’s bedroom.  
“Awesome!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.  
“Wow, you could be a bit less eager about this.”
“Sorry, but I can’t help it, I’m in love,” she said, giggling.  
“Apology accepted,” you responded, grabbed your bag, and headed out the door. Just then, you bumped into John in the hallway. “Hey."
“Hey there. How’s work treating you?”
"Good. Listen, John, can I ask you something?"
"Sure, what’s up?"
"Do you have feelings for Zoe?"
"Yes, she’s a wonderful person, and cute too," he said, smiling.
He was definitely into her.
“I mean, I thought there was something going on between you and that woman Lucy at the wedding. I need to know if you really like Zoe.”
"Lucy is just my childhood friend and ex. But, don't you know her already?"
"I only know she's Alan's girlfriend and a matchmaker."
John crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Surprised that Castillo hasn’t told you about her."
“What’s there to tell?”
John let out a troubled sigh. “You know, I’m not sure if it’s a good time for me to drop this on you, but those two were actually together a few years ago.”
Damn, you were worried about this. "So that’s why," you murmured after a brief pause.  
“Listen, he will share the details with you, but Lucy isn't like you or Zoe. She deceived both me and Castillo, leaving us heartbroken in the end. I can't hold a grudge against her because we share this strange bond, but I promise you, I’ll never hurt Zoe because of this."
You nodded. "It better stay that way, John. You should tell her as soon as possible, or I will," you said. After receiving a nod from him, you turned and headed down the stairs to leave the building.
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All day long, as you worked, your thoughts kept drifting back to Lucy. You regretted asking John about her. It wasn’t just that Harry hadn’t mentioned her—after all, that was fine considering the incident had happened years ago. What truly unnerved you was the possibility of her showing up at any moment, especially as Alan's girlfriend. It felt like trouble was just around the corner, and you couldn’t shake that feeling. Alan himself was another source of tension; his frequent encounters with you and his growing interest were weighing heavily on your mind. You knew deep down that sooner or later, things were bound to get complicated.
You really hoped this internship would wrap up soon, and that Chef Bruno would write you a glowing letter of recommendation. Yet, with the fair approaching and the day ticking down, you had to press on through the culinary internship.
Earlier, you'd called Jack, and he had already said he wanted to meet. As you waited at the table, you spotted him approaching and stood up to greet him. "Thanks for taking the time to meet me here," you said, shaking Jack's hand as he took a seat across from you.
"Of course, no problem," he replied, settling into his seat.
"Jack, about Melanie—"
"Save your breath, honey. I’m not here for her."
You were taken aback. "What do you mean? I thought that’s why you came—"
He pulled out a bunch of newspapers and magazines from his bag and dropped them on the table with a bang, making the glasses and plates rattle.
Your eyes went wide. “What’s all this?”
“Why don’t you check for yourself?”
Following his lead, you picked up the top magazine, and your heart sank at the sight of your own image on the cover. Someone had captured a photo of you and Harry dancing at the wedding from a distance.
Who is the mystery girl dancing with famous businessman Harry Castillo? the headline read.
You quickly grabbed another magazine, revealing a picture of you and Melanie.
Get ready for a surprising twist! How did the maid in Melanie Johnson's mansion pretend to be her and trap a famous billionaire?
“Ugh, what a bunch of vultures,” you muttered, shaking your head.
As you continued flipping through the articles, the headlines turned more shocking. Words like "gold digger," "sneaky housekeeper," and "fortune hunter" jumped out at you.
"That's what I was warning you about," Jack said. "I don't want you to worry, though—none of these magazines have been printed yet. These are all test editions. We managed to confiscate them before they went into mass production, and Harry’s assistant has ensured the online stories have been taken down."
You looked up at him, relief washing over you. "Thank you, Jack."
"You don’t need to thank me for dealing with the news, which includes Melanie; I did that for my own reasons. But regarding the rest..." He pointed to the magazine cover with your dancing picture. "This is the thing I wanted to discuss. I see you as a daughter, so take this advice from a father to his daughter: end whatever is happening between you and Harry before it spirals out of control. If this keeps up, there’ll be more stories about you, people will dig into your past, and in the end, it’s you who’ll get hurt. Do you understand?"
You sighed. "Jack, I honestly get what you’re saying, and I do appreciate it. But there's nothing in my past or family that I’m worried about. Gossip like this finds someone new to focus on every day; it could just as easily be me one day and someone else the next."
He paused for a moment, then nodded slowly. "So, it appears there's something more between you two than I realized. You've made up your mind. Well, it's your life, after all. I just hope you don’t wind up hurt and come to regret this decision.”
"Jack."
You both turned your heads, and damn it was—Alan. He usually didn’t come to the hotel on Saturday nights, but today was clearly an exception.
Of course.
Jack stood up to shake his hand. "Alan."
"How are you? Didn’t see you at the wedding."
"I was in D.C.," Jack replied. Just then, his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered. Alan looked at you with a smile, and you returned it.
Damn, he might have noticed the magazines on the table, you thought.
"Sorry, I’ve got to leave," Jack said suddenly.
You stood up, worry creeping in. "Is everything okay?"
"Melanie," he hissed, frustration clear in his voice. "She ran away from home."
"What do you mean she ran away? Or have you been keeping her locked up?" Your voice rose higher than you meant it to.
You couldn't shake off the memory of that one time Jack had locked her in her room, and it had ended poorly. A shudder ran through you at the thought.
"I had no choice. I thought she’d see reason and come to her senses, but apparently, I was wrong."
"Jack, are you out of your mind? Do you really not know your daughter? Locking her up isn’t the solution!"
Heads in the dining room turned toward you.
"You’re right. I messed up this time, but I couldn’t let her keep hanging out with that playboy Nate."
"I can’t say I blame you for that," you replied quietly.
"Anyway, I really have to go. Catch you later, Alan."
"See you, Jack."
As Jack strolled away, casting a backward glance, a heavy sadness settled in your chest. Melanie hadn't matured much and was acting like a nightmare. Despite his faults, Jack was a good father—if only he showed a little more genuine care to his daughter more than his work.
"Sounds like Melanie’s giving Jack a rough time," Alan said, still holding onto that smile.
"Yeah, she’s a bit immature," you admitted quietly.
To your surprise, Alan looked around the table and sat down in Jack’s vacated chair.
"Have a seat; your dessert's still waiting."
You did your best to keep it together and not roll your eyes. "Thanks, but I really need to go—"
"Just give me five minutes, alright?" he said, leaning in a bit closer.
You glanced at your watch, thinking about how Harry would be picking you up in about an hour. With a sigh, you plopped back down. "Fine."
"Thanks," he said, adjusting his suit jacket and settling in. "I know what happened here last time." You looked at him in surprise; this wasn't what you expected. "About what Lucy did..." He paused and took a breath. "I want to say sorry on her behalf."
Your eyes widened. “Alan, it’s okay. But if you start treating me differently because of her, it will only make her dislike me more. Plus, this kind of stuff probably isn't over yet."
“It won’t happen again,” he stated firmly. “I won’t allow it in my hotel. I broke up with her, and I doubt she will be coming back here.”
“That can’t be the only reason you decided to break up with her, right?”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, but it played a part. It’s disgraceful to have such disrespect shown here, especially towards our customers. I was wrong about her; she’s not the kind and innocent person I thought she was.”
"I’m sorry," you said, your tone a touch insincere.
"Not me," he replied with a grin. "I’m kind of relieved."
What was that supposed to mean?
A nagging feeling grew as you sensed he was gearing up to say something you wouldn’t like.
"One of the reasons I broke up was because of a question she asked me."
Oh, please, let this be over.
"She wanted to know if I had feelings for you."
You fought to maintain a neutral expression.
Don't say that, please don't.
"I couldn't answer her because, honestly, I actually have feelings for you that I didn't realize until now."
That was more than you could handle.
"Alan, do you even realize what you’re saying?"
"Yes, I’m fully aware."
You sighed deeply. "Maybe you’re mistaken," you suggested, looking away and starting to shake your foot nervously.
"No, I absolutely know how I feel now. I like you." He reached across the table and took your hand, catching you off guard.
You quickly pulled away. "Alan, I’m with Harry."
"You mentioned before that things were complicated between you two," he said, casually picking up one of the magazines.
"That doesn’t mean I don’t love him," you shot back, your voice sharp.
His serious expression told you he wasn’t taking it lightly.
You stood up, feeling a surge of urgency. "Look, Alan, whatever you’re feeling, you need to let it go, or I won’t be able to stay here."
"Are you really going to quit your internship?"
"If I have to, yes," you affirmed.
"Alright, I won’t pressure you unless you come to me yourself."
Surprise and annoyance washed over you. "That’s not going to happen."
He leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile on his face. "Don’t be so sure; life has a funny way of surprising us.”
What the fuck?
Your phone started ringing, and you just held it in your hand without answering as you rushed out of the dining room, still shaken by what had just happened. It was Nate calling, so you definitely weren't picking up; you quickly silenced your phone. Taking a deep breath, you let it all go and shifted your focus to getting ready for your date. Harry had offered to buy you a dress again earlier, but you turned him down. This date was meant to feel like a fresh start, a first date of sorts, and you wanted to treat yourself to the entire process.
During lunch break, you popped into one of those upscale department stores and slipped into the black, shimmering backless dress you had chosen—probably the priciest dress you had ever bought, costing almost four months' salary. You tried to keep a positive mindset; nothing would ruin tonight. The expensive Birman black shoes that Melanie had given you the night before matches perfectly with the dress. Just as you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup, your phone rang again, but your smile quickly faded when you glanced at the screen.
It wasn’t Harry.
Seeing "Trouble" light up the screen only added to your anxiety.
No way were you picking up.
The phone could ring its heart out. When it rang again as you reached for your red lipstick—perfectly matching your nails—you pushed on, determined to finish your look.
However, the incessant ringing soon got on your nerves, and you finally answered, ready to give Melanie a piece of your mind. “Look, I can’t deal with your drama right now—”
“It’s me, Garry.”
You could barely hear him over the loud music in the background. “Garry? What are you doing on Melanie’s phone? And where in the world are you?”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on her for a while; she’s completely wasted, and I don’t know how to handle this. Please, I need your help.”
“Look, I have a very important date tonight—”
“And it seems we have our new volunteer dancer!” a woman’s voice chimed in, followed by masculine cheers and applause.
Oh man.
“Don’t tell me you’re at a strip club!”
“You just heard it. I’ll try to drag her out of here, but you need to hurry. I’ll send you the location.” Garry hung up before you could say anything. “Garry! Hold on—what the hell! What kind of night is this?” you exclaimed, quickly changing up your outfit and bolting out of the room.
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When the taxi driver brought you in front of the strip club, you were cursing inside, nervous and angry. It was too much, the strip club was too much, even for her. How could she be so thoughtless and reckless?
At the entrance to the door, unfortunately, everyone was staring at you, including the women.
Oh that's right, you were all dressed up, probably looked breathtaking, but it wasn't to come here, damn it, it was to meet your boyfriend. 
Things got even worse when you entered the club. You've never been in a club like this before, it wasn't like other nightclubs.
You're thinking, No shit, I wish it was.
The music was blaring, and two girls were dancing on stage. Some men were cheering and staring at you.
Great.
Ignoring the gazes, you spotted Garry and made your way to him. However, just like the other guys, he seemed fixated on the girls performing. “Hey!” you nudged him.
“Oh you're here? Wow girl, you look great, but I wish you hadn't come here wearing a dress like this.” he said, looking around at the men.
“I couldn't change because you called me while I was getting ready for my date.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, but Melanie's gone crazy.”
“Where is she?”
“She was going on stage and tripped and fell, I was tried to check her but the women wouldn't let me in. That's why I called you.”
“Goddamn it,” you grumbled, shoving your purse at him. “Hold this, I’ll go get her, and then we’ll all head to the car together, okay?”
“Got it. I’ll wait here.”
Just as you left, Garry couldn’t help himself when your phone started ringing non-stop. He didn’t think to check your purse without asking, but when it rang like crazy, he finally picked it up. “Yeah?”
Harry nearly wrecked his car when he heard a guy’s voice on the other end. “Who the hell are you? Why are you answering my girlfriend’s phone?”
“Mr. Castillo, you probably don’t remember me, but I’m Mr. Johnson's driver.”
“Wait, is that club music I hear? Where is she?”
“We're at the strip club. It’s kind of complicated.”
Harry was stunned and slammed on the brakes, making the tires screech on the road. The car behind him honked and yelled, but he didn’t care. “Just tell me where the club is!”
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"Melanie, I swear to God, if you don't come with me right now, I'll drag you out of here by yanking your hair if I have to! I'll do it, believe me, I will!"
“Not until Nate gets here!” she snapped.
The girl was not only drunk but also trying to climb onto the stage. You were tugging at her from behind the curtain, hoping Garry could lend a hand, but she was putting up a fight.
“Hey, you two, get lost! Stay clear of the stage!” one of the dancers hissed at you.
“I'm not interested; as you see, I'm trying to get her out of here!” you retorted, still struggling to pull Melanie back.
“No! I’m going up there! I paid for it!” Melanie shouted defiantly.
“What did you just say?” you exclaimed, bewildered. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Leave them alone, girls,” an older woman chimed in, casting a knowing glance at you. “The guys who wanted you on stage shelled out a lot of cash,” she said with a sly smile.
Melanie laughed. “See? They’re dying to see me! Nate needs to get over here right now, call him!”
“It wasn’t for you,” the woman replied, eyes darting between Melanie and you. She surveyed you up and down, a smirk playing on her lips. “They paid for you, sweetheart.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m not a dancer or stripper.”
“That doesn’t matter, darling. You look fantastic. I could even give you half the take.”
“What the fuck? You promised me that I’d go on stage! Not her!”
You narrowed your eyes and glared at Melanie. “No one’s going up there!” you shouted firmly.
“Enough with this! Girls,” the woman called out, and the two dancers approached you, trying to take off your jacket.
“Hey! Get your hands off me! What do you think you’re doing?” you exclaimed, wrestling against them.
“Come on, sweetheart, don’t overreact. Just trust yourself,” she replied, grabbing your wrist. But before she could pull you away, someone else seized her arm and pushed it back.
“Leave her alone!”
When you spotted Harry, a mix of surprise and embarrassment washed over you, yet relief followed quickly. He grabbed your arm, pulling you behind him, and draped his jacket around you, wrapping you with it.
“Hey, mister, what do you think you’re doing?” the woman asked, taken aback.
"If you touch my girl again, I'll bring this club down!" Harry growled.
Just then, a man approached you two, dressed in a suit. "Mr. Castillo, there's been a terrible misunderstanding. Please forgive us, sir." He then turned to the girls. "Get back to work and return the money to those customers." 
"And give me back my jacket!" you shouted. 
Harry reached over, snatched it from one of the girls, and pulled you closer. "Are you okay?" 
You nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Melanie! Harry, stop her!" you exclaimed, pointing at her. Harry grasped her arm and pulled her away from the stage. 
That's when Nate strolled in, his phone in hand, ready to take pictures. "Oh no, did I miss the show?"
The son of a bitch was grinning.
"It's all your fault!" you shot at him. 
Garry came over to Melanie. "Miss Johnson, let’s head to the car, please." 
Melanie clung to Harry's arm touching his face. "Hey, old man, want a lap dance?" She was clearly trying to make Nate jealous, but it was Harry she had her hands on. 
Your man. 
Harry chuckled as he gently pushed her hand away. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not interested."
Wait a minute.
Not only was Melanie, but almost all the women dancers were looking Harry up and down. A wave of jealousy washed over you.
And then you lost it.
You were so angry that you pulled her off of her by the hair. "You little slut, who do you think you're touching?" You pushed her towards Nate. "Take your girlfriend and get the hell out of my life! Garry, you call Jack right now!" you said to him. Grabbing Harry's hand tightly, "Let's get the hell out of here." you urged.
He was still laughing as you pulled him out with you.
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“Stop laughing, Harry,” you scolded as you made your way to the car.
“But you were so cute when you protected me from real Melanie back there,” he replied, still chuckling.
You paused and turned to face him. “Are you really enjoying this?”
“Actually I don’t know what to think. Do you know how angry I was when I saw you here with those women? And those men… the way they look at you? I think I hate the real Melanie.”
“Welcome to the club,” you replied sarcastically. “But I’m sorry; you are right. I shouldn't have come here. Tonight was supposed to be special, and now it’s all ruined—just like my hair,” you said, running your fingers through your locks.
Harry glanced at the clock. “Um, the restaurant is about to close.”
“I really messed up,” you said, biting your lip. “I’ve ruined everything.”
He gently took your face in his hands. “Nothing’s ruined, baby. We’re going to plan B.”
“You had a plan B?” you asked, intrigued.
“I just came up with it,” he said with a grin. “Come on, we’re starting over.”
You smiled. “Okay, but where’s your car?”
“There it is,” he said, pointing to a red sport car.
Your eyes widened in surprise. “But it’s a Mustang GT!”
“That’s right. I rented it just for tonight,” he said, pulling the keys from his pocket and handing them to you. “So, am I forgiven now?”
You snatched the keys from his grasp. “Let me take it for a spin, and I’ll think about it.”
He laughed, and as you slid into the driver’s seat, he took the passenger seat beside you. You fastened your seatbelt and started the engine. “Hold on tight, ol'man.”
“Drive carefully, honey. The streets of New York are a whole different beast compared to the traffic you dealt with back in Paris.” 
You shot him a playful glance before slamming your foot on the gas. “I accept the challenge.”
“Hey, that wasn’t a challenge,” he retorted, his eyes wide as he clutched the seat.
You laughed, the thrill coursing through you. “Relax! A little excitement never hurt anyone.”
“You excite me enough in that dress, babe,” he grinned, glancing at you with a mix of admiration and mischief. 
After a few exhilarating laps, embarrassment washed over you when the flashing lights of a police radar caught you speeding through the night. Still, you found a way to enjoy the moment, laughing together as you swung by a 24-hour diner to grab some late-night munchies before heading toward Harry’s building. “Wow, that was an incredible ride."
“Yeah, it was a blast, even if it’s going to cost me a few hundred bucks in fines,” Harry said, opening the car door.
“Oops, sorry about that,” you said, stepping out of the car.
As he opened the trunk, he pulled out a huge bouquet of roses. “If it hadn’t been for that strip club incident, I would have met you at the hotel with this.”
“Harry,” you murmured, touched.
“Here you go, Cinderella—99 roses.”
You raised an eyebrow as you accepted the bouquet. “Why not a hundred?”
“That’s you,” he said, smiling sweetly. “The hundredth rose is you.”
You felt yourself melting at his words.
“That’s very romantic, ol'man. Thank you,” you said, reaching out to kiss his cheek.
“So, you forgive me now, right?” he asked, extending his arm so you could take it.
“Come here,” you said, encouraging him to lean closer. He complied, and you shared a tender kiss, sweet and gentle. “You’re forgiven, Mr. Castillo.” 
He grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning in to kiss you again, this time with more passion, the world around you fading away. But since you were still out on the street, you gently pushed him back, laughter in your eyes. “Save the rest for later, mister.”
He chuckled, pulling you closer with one arm still wrapped around your waist, and together you strolled toward the entrance.
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“Here we have some Bordeaux wine,” he said as you unpacked the food and set the plates on the table. 
“Parfait,” you replied with a smile, embracing the French language. 
With skilled hands, he uncorked the wine using a polished corkscrew, the soft pop echoing in the cozy room, and poured the ruby liquid into your glasses, its rich color glinting in the soft light. 
“Hmm, delicious,” you remarked, savoring the first sip. 
As you shared the meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving in and out of tales about Melanie and the others, laughter bubbling up like the wine in your glasses. “That’s actually much better,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of the evening. “I mean, it’s better that we’re here than in a bustling restaurant.”
“I couldn’t agree more; it’s just the two of us,” he replied, his fingers entwining with yours.
“Yeah,” you whispered, your gaze locking with his, a deep connection simmering in the air between you. 
He sighed and stood up, a hint of excitement in his voice. “I have something for you.” 
“Another surprise?” you asked, intrigued. 
He returned with a small box, sitting back down and handing it to you across the table. Different from any jewelry box you’d seen, it piqued your curiosity.
"I’ve been pondering this all day, and I've come to a realization. I always wanted you to be part of my world, but I was missing something important," he said as you opened the box. Inside, you found a card and a key. nstantly, you recognized them; it was the very card and key you had used countless times for the elevator and the apartment door.
“Harry,” you gasped, taken aback. “You mentioned that you don’t feel like you fit in my world, so how about letting me into yours?”
Your eyes filled with tears as you rose and embraced him tightly. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” 
He pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you before leaning in for a kiss. Then, he turned on some soft music from the stereo. “Will you dance with me?” 
You nodded. “Absolutely.” 
You found yourselves swaying together, lost in the slow, sweet melody, savoring the magic of the moment in comfortable silence.
But then the tension between you began to rise. Harry ran his hand through the fabric of your dress. “Great choice of dress by the way.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it,” he whispered.
“What about my bra?” you said huskily, guiding his hand to the lace strap of it.
“I admire it,” he purred.
You lifted the skirt of the dress, revealing your lace garter stockings. “My stockings?” your eyes twinkling.
He smiled at you and reached out, drawing a circle on your leg with his fingertip. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “I worship it, baby,” he said, his voice breathy and deep.
Your arm found its way around his waist, and your fingertips caressed his back. “Mmm. Keep doing that, please.”
He chuckled and continued, his hands slowly creeping up under your dress. You gave a deep, breathy moan when he latched on to the spot behind your ear, licking, sucking. Getting eager, you found his lips and kissed him, your tongue sweeping into his mouth tentatively. He responded by grabbing your hips and pulling you, lifting you into his lap. Then you broke the kiss to unbutton his shirt.
Taking a brief moment to admire you he let you stripped him out of his shirt before kissing you deeply, exploring your mouth hungrily. Popping the clasp on your bra with ease he let it fell to the floor, whilst he kissed a path between your breasts leaving a trail of goose flesh in his wake. Noticing your nipples were already pert betraying your arousal, taking one between his thumb and forefinger he rolled it making you cried out, lowering his head he circled you other with his tongue before drawing it into his hot mouth and sucking. He could feel his cock straining against the his pants but he ignored it focusing all his attention on you. He repeated the action with your other nipple before moving on, his lips gliding down over your ribs, across your stomach towards the garter belt and waistband of your panties.
Hooking his thumbs into the lace, he pulled the small scrap of material down your shapely legs until you could kick them off, but letting the garter belt still be on you. Kneeling before you he cupped your hips bringing you closer to him inhaling your scent, then he ran his tongue along your wet folds the cry that escaped you when he circled your clit was guttural, he felt his cock throb begging for attention but he ignored it once again. Slowly he worked you over, teasing you with shallow thrusts of his tongue into your velvety softness over and over again until your skin was slick with sweat and your thighs began to tremble.
“Please,” you begged, your fingers tangled in his curls, clinging to him. In answer to your plea, he flicked his tongue over your swollen bundle of nerves until you cried out when your orgasm hit. Keeping a tight grip on your hips, he held you steady, letting you ride it out before kissing his way back up your body, finally claiming your lips once more. You tasted yourself on his tongue, but you didn’t care; you devoured each other desperately.
Once your equilibrium returned, your hands found his belt, quickly you unbuckled it and pulled it from the loops before popping the buttons on his fly and pushing the material down over his hips. He shucked his pants and his boxers off and before he knew it your hand was around the base of his throbbing member and you were pumping him into your fist. He gritted his teeth, "Fuck, baby, you are such a needy kitten aren't you? Good girl. But there’s no way I’ll last if you keep that up."
Taking your hands in his, he threaded your fingers together and crushed his lips to yours once more, pinning you against the wall with your interlocked hands above your head. You gasped in response. His aching cock lied heavily against your core, you shuddered. He realized he couldn’t stand it anymore; he needed to be inside you.
Hoisting you up, he hooked your legs around his waist, pushing into you in one smooth stroke.
"Harry," you moaned, feeling dizzy with incredible consuming lust.
Your hair was plastered to your sweaty face now and in the throes of passion when your pupils dilate, cheeks flushed.
"You're breathtakingly beautiful just like this, darling," he hummed.
You were soft and warm, and your walls gripped him tightly as he thrust into you, making love to you against the wall. God he’s missed you so damn much, burying his head into the crook of your shoulder he picked up his pace, he knew you were close because he can feel your inner walls begin to tremble around him. Your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, your heels press into his firm ass as he pounds into you deeper and deeper.
As you ran your fingers through his hair down to his neck, spurring him on with sweet cries. "Harder, faster, please."
"Fuck," he growled, pressed his forehead against yours so that he held your gaze as your second orgasm striked. You screamed his name as your body locked up, your sex gripping his cock in an iron grasp.
He made an incoherent sound and cursed as your orgasm triggered his, and he released himself inside of you. You collapsed into each other a hot, sticky, sweaty mess, panting heavily. When finally he caught his breath, he ran his nose along your smiling devilishly down at you.
“So how was it, baby?” he asked waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“Fast, delicious, hair-raisingly good,” you giggled.
"How about a second round? This time in the bedroom?" he panted, still catching his breath.
You tightened your arms around him playfully. “You betcha, mister."
Just as your words finished, he scooped you up and rushed toward the bedroom, causing your laughter to ring out cheekily through the hall.
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Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your comments, likes, and reblogs. I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter!
here's the taglist...
@balhoneysweetstuff @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @lailathepedritofan @queenofodds @darkheartgatita @ccmoonshine @suzysface @javiismyhsbnd @aurorathegreekprincess @daejangandimja @longlivekingminnn @jisungandpedrolover @urlivingdeadgirl @laliceee @sincerelywithheartt @indiegirlunited @fancyyoouu @blackborndue @shinymusicpanda @her-fandom-sanctum @aegoniipascal @zanylightmilkshake @bonadeaamo @spencercmlover @heramj @pedroloverbilmemkac @churchofjoemiller @urlivingdeadgirl @thanyatargaryen @icanbringyouinhot @universallygentlemenharmony @bitchyfestnight @sukivenue @l1zzygr0nt @pedrofan @javiismyhsbnd @00honey @brittmb115 @picketniffler @javiismyhsbnd @00honey @kneelarmhstrung @zanylightmilkshake @melsunshine @inept-the-magnificent @catofash @secretlettersfromyourlove @pedge-page @speaktothehandpeasants @krystal---meth @pasc4lfuzz @brittmb115 @behomewhenthestreetlightscomeon @kneelarmhstrung @pedrofan @l1zzygr0nt @sukivenue @cherri-zaza @0-moonbeam-0 @krystal---meth @joelmillerpascal @harrington-thedad @darkheartgatita @javiismyhsbnd
If you want me to add you to the tag list or remove you from it, just let me know! if I missed your name, I'm sorry, remind me, plz.
lots of love 💋💋❤️❤️
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bows4tyun · 1 month ago
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OBNOXIOUSLY YOURS ⸝⸝ 최범규
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synopsis: your best friend always plays tricks on you, what happens when an accident goes successfully wrong?
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pairing!- bestfriend!beomgyu x fem!reader
warnings!- friends to lovers, soft/harddom!beomgyu, sub!reader, kissing, unprotected sex, breast worship, nipple play, praise kink, dacryphilia, beomgyu calls reader 'pretty girl' and 'baby'
lexi adds!- here is bsf beomgyu as the winner of the poll! thank you anon for requesting I hope you all enjoy this!! also not proofread!
feedback and reblogs are appreciated!
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when you said beomgyu was a complete pain in the ass, it was an understatement. yes, he was your bestfriend but oh how he loved to mess with you and get you riled up.
it was almost late at night when you and beomgyu were sitting on the couch of your shared apartment together, you playing super smash bros while beomgyu watched both you and the screen, watching your skilful fingers glide across the controller to ace each attack, it was so satisfying to watch you focus on something so serious to you.
his mind couldn't help but ponder, thinking of what would happen if he just kissed you in the middle of your game. he knew that he shouldn't have those thoughts, especially with his best friend of five years but he couldn't seem to help himself. he wanted you to think of him as more than just a friend, was that too much to ask for?
beomgyu has always thought of you as pretty, getting jealous of any guy who talked to you or any of your past boyfriends who he thought you were too good for. he thought you were out of their league with your stunning visuals and fond personality that any man were bound to fall for at the sight of you. he didn't even think he was good enough for you yet the feeling of tenderness and warmth laid deep inside his heart, waiting for the right moment to have you. it was only a matter of time before he got his way.
maybe beomgyu wasn't used to feeling like this, he couldn't even describe and put into words just how much he's always liked you. he had never felt like this for anyone. his way of showing his liking wasn't the typical flowers and dinners that you'd think it'd be. he didn't know how to express himself other than just making you laugh and also getting you riled up from the different pranks he'd pull on you. he was fond of your cute irritated reactions.
but this time, beomgyu would keep quiet, waiting for the time to be right. he'd find the perfect timing to get you angry, he always did.
"what if I just unplug your game right now?" beomgyu threatened jokingly, knowing that this specific round was an important one.
"choi beomgyu don't you dare..." you warned him as you tried your best to not pay him much attention, your full focus on the game as your finger movements quickened to beat the round.
beomgyu scooted himself closer to the edge of the couch, threatening to lift himself off and head towards the plug that connected the video game to the tv.
"beomgyu don't!" your tone became anxious as you played, swiftly pressing his back against the couch in an attempt to stop him.
a menacing smirk and glare painted his face, his eyes watching as your eyebrows furrowed with the determination of winning. but his eyes didn't stop wondering there. they went down to your chest, the small baby tee you wore made it seem as if your tits would fall out of your shirt. beomgyu caught himself in the act as he briskly moved his gaze away, not wanting to think of his best friend in that sort of way.
he chuckled at your defensive reaction, finding it adorable how badly you cared for your game. your finger's pace quickened even more before you finally beat the round, a bright smile illuminating your face with cheerfulness and the relief of beomgyu not unplugging your video game.
when you gaze at beomgyu, a hint of shock could be evident in his eyes as he tried to play off how impressive your gameplay was.
"you should use your fast fingers for something else..." he mumbled under his breath, not expecting you to hear him since the volume of his voice wasn't as loud as it usually is.
"what do you mean?" his words have you flustered. what ever he was implying couldn't have been innocent or else he would've said it out loud for you to clearly hear him.
he shakes his head, ignoring your question, "it's nothing..."
with that, he gets up from the couch for real this time, making his way to grab a cup from the kitchen cabinet above the stove. after getting his cup he heads to the fridge, pressing the edge of the cup against the water dispenser, fresh and cool water flowing out. when beomgyu reaches his desired amount of water, he turns around, only to be met with you unexpectedly, water spilling onto your shirt from how close you were to him.
"beomgyu!" you say, stunned by the fact beomgyu had spilt more than half of the cup on you.
his hand is covering his mouth from shock, but he regains his composure. quickly, his reaches to the counter as he grabs the nearest dish towel in his sight.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to I swear!" the piece of plaid cloth is now being dabbed against the fabric of your shirt as beomgyu tried his hardest to absorb all the water out of the mess he created. "why were you even behind me?"
"I was trying to grab a pudding..."
beomgyu lets out a sigh, poking his tongue against his inner cheek in frustration, "how careless can you be...?"
beomgyu tried his hardest not to look, he really did. the scene displayed in front of him just played with his mind. you were standing right before him, your shirt wet as it gave him the perfect view of your cleavage and an outline of your bra.
his face turned red while thinking and imagining dirty things. you didn't seem to notice since you were focused on continuing to pat the water off enough to leave your shirt less damp than before. the sight of you like this made beomgyu weak in the knees, he felt so stupid in love.
suddenly, the towel dropped to the floor and you were pulled up into his arms.
"beomgyu what are you doing? put me down!" you protested but beomgyu wouldn't budge, taking you straight into his room without saying a word.
the next you know is that you're placed on the mattress, looking up to meet the lustful gaze of your best friend. the look in his eyes made you see him in another light, you've never seen him like this.
"beomgyu...?" you questioned innocently, nervous to what'd he planned on doing.
"I- I can't take it anymore... do you want this as much as I do?" he asked, the desire in his eyes making it clear what he was implying. "you can say no."
but you didn't want to say no, you did want it.
with a small forbearing nod, you looked him in the eye, "I-I do..."
it almost seemed too good to be true, was beomgyu hearing you right? maybe this was just a silly wet dream he was having all playing out in his head.
he blinked once. and then twice just to make sure.
he began blinking back into the reality of the situation. a grin spread across his lips, the joker look never leaving as he gripped your waist with his slim and strong fingers. your shirt had risen up, exposing your soft skin that beomgyu dreamed to touch and feel forever.
he touched you with caution, his hands gliding across your body with a gentleness you’d never expect from his prankster-like persona. “you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this…” he huffed out, almost breathless from the sight of your ethereal beauty and body, he felt like the luckiest man on earth. his fingers then crawled to meet the hem of your shirt, wrapping around it and removing it off your body, revealing your delicate figure. seeing you in this state made him feel almost dizzy, you were so beautiful, too good for him and this world, a true angel.
“beomgyu…?” you spoke, noticing the look on beongyu’s face, his eyes almost forming hearts as he looked and just admired you. he snapped out of his thoughts to answer your worried voice.
“sorry, you’re just so pretty, my pretty girl…” he mumbled gently, leaning in towards your face and kissing you along your jawline, making sure his kisses were light and warm just for you.
you gave in and melted into his kisses, your hands making their way into his soft fluffed up hair. ”I’m going to make sure I love you tonight, baby,” his voice was sweet, honey-dipped and full of promise. his body teased against yours and you felt him growing hard in his pants, his erection grinding against your clothed folds. this action makes you emit a small whimper, causing beomgyu to grin. he grinder harder, listening to the noises of your pleasure fill the room and air of sweetness. a small chuckle left his lips before he spoke teasingly, “you like that baby? want me to give you the real thing?”
without hesitation, you nodded and he gave you what you wanted. he almost speedily pulled both your cute panties and shorts down, spreading your legs and watched your pussy glisten with slick as the cold air brushed against it. you couldn’t help but close your legs at the feeling of him watching you like this, you became shy.
this made beomgyu feel so powerful over you. swiftly, he places both hands on each of your knees, spreading them apart once more with a devious stare in his eyes. “don’t shy away if you want me to be gentle…” and with that, he works to get his own clothes off, pulling his plain white tee over his head to reveal his soft toned abs, his muscles defined on his cream skin. he knew you liked the sight of him like this just by watching the way your eyes wandered around his body. “what?” he questioned, a cocky look plastered on his face. “I go to the gym, y’know.” his pants was next in his agenda. his fingers found their way to the zipper and button of his pants, making it seem so quick and easy the way he unbottoned and unzipped.
with that, his dick sprung out, eager for action as it twitched with need. his tip was painted a soft pink strawberry hue with veins running down the sides. he was big. big enough for you to think it wouldn’t even fit inside of you.
beomgyu smirked at your bewildered expression as he watched your eyes look at his cock as if you were having a staring contest. “don’t be too intimidated baby, it’ll fit.” he reassured you like he already knew the answer, gripping the base of his thick cock and rubbing it up and down between your folds, riling you up once more. your eyebrows furrowed as you whined, wanting him inside of you already.
”beomgyu… don’t keep me waiting!”
“watch your tone pretty girl.” he spoke in a blunt tone, a hint of threat lingering in the air that surrounded the two of you. he aligns and rubs his dick against your aching hole, teasing you softly and making it seem as if he weren’t ever going to push himself inside.
you gasp out loud with a moan when his dick is pushed inside of you without any further notice, catching you off guard. the stretch felt so delicious as his cock reached so deep it brushed against your sweet spot ever so slightly. “gyu!”
an almost villainous chuckle escapes past beomgyu’s lips, watching and feeling the way you struggled to take his cock. “so now you wanna stay quiet, huh?” he said, keeping himself deep inside, “you won’t be able to keep quiet much longer” and with that, he begins a merciless pace, not caring about his past promise of being gentle.
at this point, tears began to swell in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling of beomgyu’s dick bolting inside of you with his unforgiving speed. your tearful eyes didn’t go unnoticed by beomgyu, he smiled watching you like that, barely slowing down his pace. “don’t cry baby,” he cooed softly in a warm but still teasing manner. “just enjoy it, please.” his words sounded close to a plea as he pulled your bra off, getting a complete view of your plump breasts instead of just a small outline. without further thought, his hands cupped them, squeezing the soft peachy flesh while his pointer finger and thumb worked to tweak and rub the hardened bud of your nipple.
you open your mouth, small sounds of pleasure the only thing leaving instead of words. singular tears ran down your face and one of beomgyu’s hands left your chest to wipe your tears away before he leaned down and kissed you softly, the opposite of the speed of his thrusts.
he huffed as he pulled away from the kiss, “I love you…” his words seemed to come from the. bottom of his heart as his eyes glistened with love.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly as you could barely make out words. in between whimpers and moan you spoke, “I love you too, beomgyu… please, kiss me again?”
he complies and presses his lips against yours, the kiss soft and slow as he took in all of you. this feeling of strong love and affection has you almost in a spiral as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten, beomgyu cupped your face as he kissed you and poured all of his heart into the kiss. his thrusts and movements in general became sloppy, wet lewd sounds of his hips rutting into yours echoed through the room and you could tell he was close to.
beomgyu moved his hands from your face and gripped your hips, his thrusts inhumanely fast as both of you felt your climax near.
”beomgyu…!”
”I know baby, I know… fuck you’re milking my cock dry, aren’t you?”
with a final thrust, both of you came at the same time, panting to catch your breaths and beomgyu fell on top of you, kissing your jaw and then your lips.
”will you be my girlfriend?”
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taglist!- @hyunj00 @lovingbeomgyudayone @bambiihee @saejinniestar (pls lmk if you want to be added!)
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m0reighn4 · 2 months ago
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His voice
Sypnosis: Sae realises that his voice affects you. But he wants to test just how much...
Warnings: Smut under the cut; a little out of character (ooc); a tad rushed; Google translated Spanish (your girl just don't know the language ✌🏽😔)
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Sae's voice is hot. That much is a given. If he spoke English, it was heavenly. When he spoke his native language, Japanese? Argh! That right there is the ticket straight to heaven!
Now, this had been something you'd gotten used to until one day, when travelling with him in Madrid, Sae is speaking to someone in Spanish. This makes you pause. Similarly to when he speaks English, you can still hear the Japanese accent in his voice. The syllables roll off his tongue so naturally.
Your surprised reaction doesn't go unnoticed by the soccer genius, who subtly slips his arm around your waist. Though it doesn't show, a subtle smirk forms on his face as he continues his discussion.
But when it really comes through is when Sae has got you— pressed into his pristine sheets, back arched into the soft mattress, moaning and whimpering his name just the way he likes.
With the way he skillfully works your body, he draws the best reactions from you. But tonight, it isn't enough. Tonight, he wants even more from you.
Sae leans down, draping your back in his heat as his face comes close to your ear. This is action is all too common for him. Expecting the usual groaning or panting of his, you immediately offer your attention to him. And that's when you hear it— soft and hot against the shell of your ear.
"Allí vamos mi amor, [There we go, my love],"he pants.
And that when he feels it, just the mere sound of his voice being used like this driving you wild. You can't help but shudder, bring the man above his much desired satisfaction.
The both of you groan in unison, his much softer than yours. A soft head of auburn hair drops to your shoulder. His lips tugs into a small, subtle smirk. Oh, he's got you.
Feathery kisses are pressed to the plane of your shoulder, up the column of your neck, right to your ear once more. And you can almost hear his smug smirk in his voice as his thrusts turn the slightest bit sharper.
"Mmh, entonces te gusta mi voz[Mmh, so you do like my voice]?"
His smirk widens when a whine is ripped right from your throat. Sae leaves a sweet kiss right under your ear. And that just leaves you even hotter.
All that runs through your mind is Sae, Sae, Sae! It's driving you nuts in the best way possible. As you ride further up on cloud nine, his voice pulls you right back down to earth once again.
"Te vas a correr para mí, ¿no?[You're gonna cum for me, aren't you?]" And it doesn't take a genius to know how right he is. With your eyes rolled back and your jaw going slack, he whispers in your ear one more time, "Anda, cúmpleme[Go on, cum for me.]"
And that's all you need. With a gasp of his name, white, hot pleasure bursts through your body as you shiver against him. Sae holds you close, reaching his hand over to tilt your jaw to his face. It doesn't take too long before he falls right over the edge with you, smashing his lips to yours to forcing you to swallow the soft sigh of relief he releases.
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Aight, so a lot went down with this one. First off, it took me a month to complete (most of that time, it was just sitting in my drafts, collecting dust). Then, came the inevitable issue, me not knowing any Spanish other than the microscopic amounts I learnt from Dora when I was like 4 😭🤷🏽‍♀️. So feel free to correct any mistakes I made in between. And then, my worst one, posting this WAY earlier than I was supposed to. It was so bad that it wasn't even DONE! So I actually had to rush it a little towards the end 😭
So on that note, thanks to everyone who liked and reblogged my incomplete work. And I hope you enjoy the finished work even more now! Thank you all for reading! 🤍🤍💙💙
(Also, thanks to @reigensuperstar for the help with the Spanish bits. Your advice helped a ton 🙏🏽😔)
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buckybuckyboo · 6 months ago
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Where does Bucky go after missions?
Warnings: Little bit of smut. Fluff.
A/N: Let me know what you think! Should I write meeting Steve and the others? Enjoy reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated. Feedback is always welcome.
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Steve always wonders but he tells himself when Bucky is ready he will tell him. As soon as they get back to the compound he showers quickly, changes into some jeans and a Hanley and he's gone for a couple of days. They always try to get him to stay for a bit to eat or just unwind especially if it's been a tough mission. He turns them down every time with a big smile and then leaves the compound.
Of course Steve calls but it's likely Bucky won't answer. He always sees him again after a few days and his mood is always better than it was when he got back from the mission. So where does Bucky go?
He goes to you of course.
You're wondering around your apartment while eating some left over Chinese food when you hear a knock at the door. When you open it and see that beautiful face your arms automatically wrap around his neck and your legs around his waist. His head in the crook of your neck inhaling your sent that he has missed so much.
"I'm so happy you're home safe baby! Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
He doesn't answer but smashes his lips to yours in a heated kiss. He carries you back inside, kicking the door closed with his foot and heading towards your bedroom. This was nothing new of course this is what happened after missions. Especially long missions.
For the next day or two... or maybe four, there are some rules.
1) nobody leaves the apartment.
2) clothes stay off.
3) Food will be ordered in. And
4) you are always in arms reach.
Once he's got you naked on the bed he can't help slipping his cock in stright away. He needs to feel you hugging his cock. He slides all the way in and the moans from both of you are pornagraphic.
There are no words spoken that first time, but when he looks into your eyes he smiles making you smile back. "Hi baby" you whisper. He leans in kissing you sweetly "Hi doll, I missed you".
That first night you don't move far from each other. Then gradually you will move about the apartment but Bucky is always right beside you. You moved from the bed to the couch to watch some TV but Buckys head always ended up between your legs after a few minutes.
After about 3 or 4 days of being together, Bucky felt he had relaxed and was happy to be home and to see you. His phone started to ring on the coffee table and you seen it was Steve. "Answer it, he just wants to know you're alive" you giggle kissing his cheek.
Bucky laughs and picks up the phone and answers.
"Hey steve"
"Hey Buck, where have you been?"
"Uh just winding down after the mission"
"Oh okay, you wanna hang out later or are ypu still winding down?"
Bucky looks at you and smiles.
"No I'll be over soon I uh- I have someone I want you to meet"
"Oh? So there is someone you've been sneaking off to see. Well I can't wait to meet her!"
Bucky laughs and leans in kissing you. "Okay, I'll see you later punk"
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lazy-ahh · 29 days ago
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CHAOS LIKES COMPANY. A.K.A I LIKE YOU
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pairing mohawk! mark grayson x (vigilante) male reader
you always imagined your grand exit would be more dramatic - maybe a hail of gunfire, a building collapsing in slow motion, at least a decent fucking punchline. instead you're testing a theory: if you disappear now, will mark grayson (your idiot, your disaster, the love of your shitty life) even notice? were you gonna be a tragic loss that haunted him forever, or the weird stain on the couch he learned to ignore?
this is for you MM (mohawk mark) anon! hope you enjoyed this one <3
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you’re standing on a rooftop, the city sprawled out beneath you like a toy set some rich kid smashed in a tantrum. the wind’s tugging at your hair, the strands whipping across your face like it’s personally offended by your existence. not that you mind—gives you that "tragically windswept" look, and hey, maybe the audience is into that.
"nice view, huh?" you say, grinning at no one in particular. "seriously, take a screenshot or something. this is prime wallpaper material."
mark—mohawk mark, because this universe just had to make him extra—lands beside you with a thud that cracks the concrete under his boots. his black-and-blue suit is all "look at me, i’m edgier than the original", complete with that ridiculous "i" logo stretching down to his knees like it’s trying to escape. his mohawk’s practically defying gravity (and common sense), and the bags under his eyes make him look like he hasn’t slept since the invention of energy drinks.
"who the hell are you talking to?" he asks, squinting like he’s trying to spot your imaginary friends.
"the audience," you say, like it’s obvious. "you know, the people watching our lives like some messed-up reality show? hi guys, love ya, don’t forget to leave a like and reblog."
"the… what?" his nose scrunches up, and oh, that’s adorable.
"don’t worry about it." you wave a hand. "they’re cool. mostly. some of them probably ship us already—oh, and spoiler alert, they’re gonna love the angst fest coming up."
mark blinks. "what does that even—you know what, never mind." he shakes his head, but you can tell he feels it—that weird shift in the air when you break the fourth wall like it’s made of wet paper. he doesn’t see them, but he knows something’s off, like the universe just glitched for a second.
"you’re weird," he mutters, but there’s no real bite to it. just that same fond exasperation he’s had since you were kids throwing rocks at mailboxes (okay, you threw rocks—mark just watched and panicked, because back then, he was a "rules" kind of guy. boring).
"and you’re rocking a haircut that screams ‘i got into a fight with a lawnmower and lost’," you shoot back, reaching out to flick his mohawk. he swats your hand away, but he’s grinning now, all sharp edges and "i could kill you but i won’t (today)" energy.
"shut up," he says, but it’s half-hearted. then, quieter: "you’re the only one who gets to say shit like that and live."
and oh, that stings a little, doesn’t it? because you’ve known each other forever—since back when he was just mark, not invincible, not this version of him with blood under his fingernails and a smile that’s too wide to be sane. you know him better than anyone, even when he’s pretending he doesn’t care.
and yeah, maybe you’re a little (a lot) in love with him. maybe you’ve always been.
"lucky me," you say, forcing a smirk. "guess that means i’m special."
"guess it does," he says, and for a second, his eyes flicker with something almost soft.
(too bad you won’t be around long enough to enjoy it. because let’s be real—this is mark’s story, and in every universe, the best friend always dies. you’ve read the comics. you know how this ends. but hey, at least you’ll go out in style, right? saving this idiot’s life like some tragic, self-sacrificing idiot. classic.)
"so," mark cracks his knuckles, the sound sharp in the quiet before chaos, his fingers flexing like he's already imagining them wrapped around someone's throat. his grin is all teeth, too wide, too eager—the kind that makes normal people back up slowly and call the cops. his boot taps impatiently against the rooftop ledge, vibrating with barely-contained violence. "wanna go wreck some bad guys?"
you sigh, dramatic and long-suffering, like he’s just asked you to help him move a couch instead of commit several felonies. "oh, sweetie," you drawl, flipping a knife between your fingers just to watch the way his eyes track it—hungry, amused. "i was already doing that. you’re just late to the party." you tilt your head toward the alley below, where a bunch of armed goons are currently trying (and failing) to look intimidating. "see? they even brought balloons."
mark rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck, but before he can fire back some half-assed insult, he’s already leaping off the roof, arms spread like he’s embracing the inevitable chaos. you don’t even hesitate—just tuck your weapons back and dive after him, the wind screaming in your ears.
(you always follow. you always will. that's how you'll die, remember?)
the fight starts before your feet even hit the ground.
you land in a roll, coming up with a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other, already firing before the first thug even registers you’re there. the bullet takes him in the knee—"oops, guess you won’t be running anymore. well, not on that leg, anyway."
mark, meanwhile, doesn’t bother with weapons. he is the weapon. he plows into a guy twice his size like a freight train, sending him flying through a storefront window. glass shatters, the guy screams, and mark just laughs, kicking him in the ribs hard enough to crack bone. "aw, what’s wrong?" he taunts, tilting his head. "thought you were tough?"
one of the half-conscious goons on the pavement groans, dragging himself up on trembling elbows. his face is a mess of blood and regret as he glares up at you through one swollen eye. "what the fuck?" he slurs, spitting out a broken tooth. "i thought you guys were supposed to be heroes- AGH!"
your boot connects with his family jewels before he can finish that thought - a picture-perfect punt right to the baby factory, the twig and berries, the ol' troublepuffs. his voice cracks into a shrill, eunuch-like squeal as he folds like a lawn chair, hands cupped protectively over his now-useless crown jewels. "heroes?" you echo, tilting your head with mock sympathy as he dry-heaves onto the asphalt. "aw, cupcake. we're the guys your mom warned you about."
a bat comes swinging at your head from the blindside - amateur hour. you duck without even looking, feeling the whoosh of air ruffle your hair as you pivot and sink your combat knife deep into the guy's meaty thigh. he screams like a banshee as you twist the blade, feeling tendon grind against steel. "shhh, it's okay," you coo, patting his sweaty cheek with your free hand while he trembles. "you're doing great for someone with the fighting skills of a concussed koala."
then - classic move incoming - another meathead charges you with a crowbar raised high. is this also a reference to the author's other fictional crush? you sidestep like a matador, snatching his wrist mid-swing and using his momentum to yank him face-first into your rising knee. the satisfying crunch of cartilage tells you his nose just became abstract art. as he wheezes through the blood bubbling from his nostrils, you grab a fistful of his greasy hair and introduce his forehead to the nearest car hood. DING. "and that's the dinner bell!" you announce as he slumps to the pavement. "congrats, you just failed villainy 101. solid d-minus for the effort."
another shrill scream tears through the alleyway, high-pitched and desperate enough to make you pause mid-swing. you glance over your shoulder just in time to see mark - your personal hurricane of violence - plant his boots against the pavement, grip some poor 6'2 bastard by the waistband of his jeans, and heave. the guy goes airborne with a comical yelp, flipping ass-over-teakettle before crashing windshield-first onto a parked sedan. glass explodes outward in a glittering shower, the car alarm immediately wailing like a wounded animal.
"ohoho," you purr, letting your (new) bloodstained bat rest against your shoulder as you backpedal toward the nearest brick wall. you prop yourself against it, crossing your ankles with deliberate casualness as you watch mark work. the way his muscles flex under that skintight suit should be illegal. the way his mohawk bobs with each brutal movement? downright obscene.
mark doesn't even pause for breath before stomping toward the next threat, those unfairly thick thighs straining against his suit with each step - god, the way that fabric clings to him should be classified as a war crime. his fingers curl around a dented street sign, biceps flexing obscenely as he wrenches it free from the concrete with a screech of protesting metal. when he swings, it's with the practiced ease of a major league slugger, his whole body twisting in a way that makes his ass look absolutely sinful in that skin-tight suit - and then the aluminum connects with some mobster's jaw in a spray of saliva and enamel, three pearly whites skittering across the asphalt like tiny dice.
you swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. it's ridiculous how good he looks like this - all coiled violence and barely-contained power, his mohawk sticking up in every direction like he just rolled out of bed (your bed, preferably). the way his shoulders bunch under the fabric when he lifts the sign again, the way his thighs flex as he plants his feet - christ, you could write poetry about those thighs.
but then something tightens in your chest, sharp and sudden, stealing the breath from your lungs. you turn to glare at no one in particular, pointing an accusing finger. "woah woah woah, hey! don't you dare. i know what you're going to write in the next paragraph and i swear to god-"
because one day - soon - you won't be here to see this. won't be here to watch the way the streetlights catch the sweat on mark's neck, or the way his nose scrunches up when he's trying not to laugh at your shitty jokes. one day, you'll just be... gone. and mark will keep fighting, keep living, with some other poor bastard at his side who isn't you.
the thought hits you like a punch to the gut. fuck...
(you hope, when it happens, it's quick. you hope it's saving his stupid, reckless life. you hope he misses you, just a little.)
"homerun!" you crow as you look back at mark, pushing off the wall to deliver slow, sarcastic applause, trying to erase your negative thoughts. no need for allat when you're still alive and breathing, right? one of your gloves comes away sticky with someone else's blood. "ten outta ten for form, but i'm deducting points for lack of showmanship. where's the flair, grayson?"
"shut up," mark growls through gritted teeth, but the way his lips twitch betrays him. he chucks the ruined sign aside like trash before lunging for his next victim - some meathead who clearly skipped neck day. mark's fingers close around the guy's throat, lifting him clean off his feet until their faces are level. the thug's sneakers scrabble against empty air, his face blooming an impressive shade of eggplant as mark just... watches. his head tilts slightly, eyes dark with something between scientific curiosity and outright glee. it's the same look kids get when they poke dead things with sticks.
you whistle low through your teeth, nudging an unconscious goon with your toe. "y'know most heroes don't commit felonies on the daily. pretty sure throttling dudes counts as excessive force."
"we're not most heroes," mark snarls, finally dropping the gasping thug in a heap. he wipes his palms on his thighs, leaving smears of red across the blue fabric. "and i literally saw what you did to those guys back there," he jerks his chin toward the alley mouth where four bodies lay in increasingly creative positions, "so don't even start, hypocrite."
your grin stretches wide enough to hurt. he's got you there. while mark was playing fast and loose with the geneva suggestions, you'd been busy turning a switchblade into a modern art installation in someone's shoulder socket.
"touche, mohawk," you concede, flipping your bat in a lazy arc. "but in my defense?" the aluminum cracks against the skull of some sneaky bastard trying to flank mark. the guy folds like a lawn chair. "my felonies have panache."
mark's answering laugh is all teeth and no remorse. the sirens wailing in the distance mean it's time to bounce, but neither of you move just yet. not when there's still blood in the air and that electric hum of violence buzzing under your skin.
(and if your eyes linger on the way mark's chest heaves, on the wild light in his eyes - well. that's between you and the audience. you can't judge him, can you? perverts.)
luckily for the two of you, the universe apparently decided this shit-show wasn't over yet, with one final act left. with a running start, you plant one boot against the side of a overflowing dumpster and push off, tucking into a neat flip that would make any olympic gymnast weep with envy. you land in a crouch behind two meatheads who clearly skipped villain orientation day - their matching "we do crime" energy is almost cute in its patheticness.
the first guy telegraphs his punch like he's sending smoke signals. you catch his fist mid-swing, twisting his wrist in one fluid motion until the bone gives with an audible snap. his scream is high enough to shatter glass. "dude," you sigh, shaking your head as he crumples to his knees, "you gotta warm up first. this is just sad. i'm embarrassed for you."
his buddy takes this moment to make a terrible life choice, fumbling a glock from his waistband. the barrel wavers wildly as he tries to aim.
you blink. "oh, rude."
the gunshot cracks through the alley, but you're already moving - twisting sideways just enough that the bullet parts your hair like a fucked-up comb. before the echo even fades, your knife is airborne, burying itself to the hilt in the guy's shoulder with a meaty thunk. his shriek is music to your ears as the gun clatters to the pavement. you saunter over, planting a boot on his chest for leverage as you yank your blade free. "thanks for the target practice," you muse, wiping the blood on his shirt before he passes out. "tell your friends."
meanwhile, mark has apparently decided physics are optional. you turn just in time to see him grab some poor bastard by the belt and collar, muscles straining under his suit as he heaves - the guy goes sailing through the air like a ragdoll, crashing through a fruit stand in an explosion of splintered wood and flying oranges. before the first body even stops rolling, mark's already pivoted to grab another thug, launching him ass-first into a trash can with enough force to dent the metal. the clang echoes down the alley like a demented church bell.
"having fun?" you call, spinning your pistol around your finger before slotting a fresh magazine home with practiced ease. the click of it seating is downright pornographic.
"shut up," mark pants for the umpteenth time, but there's no heat behind it - just that breathless, unhinged laughter that makes your stomach do funny things. he grabs the last guy by his collar, hauling him up until they're nose-to-nose. for a heartbeat, they just stare at each other - then mark slams their foreheads together with a crunch that would make a butcher wince. the guy's nose practically explodes in a crimson spray, his eyes rolling back as he collapses in a boneless heap.
suddenly, it's quiet.
the aftermath looks like a tornado hit a butcher shop - bodies strewn about like broken dolls, glass glittering amidst pools of darkening blood, the distant wail of sirens growing steadily closer. mark's chest heaves with each breath, his knuckles split and dripping onto the pavement. his mohawk's gone full hedgehog mode, sticking up in every direction, and there's a smear of someone else's blood across his cheekbone that you have the sudden, overwhelming urge to lick off. weird. last you checked, you were a picky eater.
when he turns to look at you, his eyes are alive - pupils blown wide with adrenaline, that manic grin still tugging at his lips. it's terrifying. it's beautiful. it's so mark that your chest aches with it. so mark that you can literally feel the blood in your veins start to make its way down.
"so," you say, holstering your gun with a flourish, "same time tomorrow?"
mark scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he turns to leave. but he doesn't check if you're following - doesn't need to.
(you always do.)
(≧∇≦)ノ☆
"i feel like i'm going crazy. like my brain's been stuffed with cotton and set on fire at the same time." you stare at the water-stained ceiling talking to no one in particular, fingers digging into your pillow hard enough to tear seams. the eyebags under your eyes have gotten so dark they look like bruises (at least now you and mark match, his from violence, yours from... whatever this is). your hair's a disheveled mess, strands sticking to your forehead after days of bedrotting and only wearing t-shirts and sweatpants. you need to do your laundry soon, you were about to run out of t-shirts and sweatpants from your closet. you can feel death crouched at the foot of your bed like a stray cat waiting to be let in. "i'm literally about to die and what do i do? play fucking martyr instead of just... just..." your voice cracks as you press the heels of your hands against your burning eyes.
this was supposed to be some noble gesture - giving mark a trial run at life without you. you'd dove into the plan half-delirious, imagining how he'd come pounding on your door by sundown, all wild-eyed and vibrating with barely-contained panic. he'd drag you out of bed by your ankle, that adorable angry crease between his brows as he yelled about how you can't just disappear for hours, how he'd torn the city apart looking for you, how maybe - just maybe - he'd been a little more brutal than usual with the criminals today because what if something had happened to you and -
except that's not what happened.
three days. seventy-two hours of radio silence. the notifications on your phone have tapered off to nothing. you keep checking it like a pathetic loser, thumb smearing fingerprints across the cracked screen as you scroll through increasingly distant messages:
sidehoe #1 🐈💨 2:43 AM
we both know you don't got other sidehoes, so why is there a number next to my nickname??
manwhore <3
why would i tell you who the others are? you'd just kill them anyway, so i gotta keep the huzz safe, you feel me?
and don't worry, marky, you'll always be number 1 in my heart <33
sidehoe #1 🐈💨 7:58 AM
oh shut up
8:02 AM
okay when i said shut up, i didn't mean literally
8:15 AM
you alive?
9:29 AM
you haven't watched the tiktoks i sent yet watch them or you're going to get it tonight
9:31 AM
when i said you're going to get it tonight i meant i'm going to grab you by the throat and glue your phone screen to your eyes or sexual intercourse don't even make fun of me for calling it that whichever one gets you to answer my fucking messages
8:16 PM
whatever
"it's like..." you rasp to the empty room, throat raw from disuse. "like when you stop texting your boyfriend first to see how long it takes him to notice you're gone. except you're the idiot who breaks after five minutes because the silence makes your chest hurt, while he's just... fine." you let your phone clatter to the floor, screen-up so you can watch it stay dark. "fuck. that doesn't even make sense. i fucking hate myself."
outside your window, the city keeps turning. somewhere out there, mark's probably elbow-deep in someone's ribcage, not even realizing there's a you-shaped hole in the world. the thought makes you laugh - a wet, broken sound that turns into a sob halfway through. you roll over and bury your face in the pillow that stopped smelling like him days ago.
(you always knew you'd die for him. you just never thought you'd have to watch him stop needing you first.)
(≧∇≦)ノ☆
that suffocating dread finally lifts one night - not because it's gone, but because you've grown too tired to carry it anymore. it had clung to your ribs like tar for days, weighing down every breath no matter how many shitty jokes you cracked or how many bad decisions you made. hiding in your room didn't help either, the walls pressing closer each day like they knew what was coming. part of you wondered if the danger was you all along, if you'd somehow become the villain in this story. but no - you know how this ends. you've always known. you'll die saving that reckless, mohawked idiot who still doesn't realize you're in love with him.
after your first proper shower in days (the water scalding your skin pink), you crack open another soda and watch the bubbles fizz against the can's rim. the carbonation burns your throat as you gulp it down, the sugar rush doing nothing to steady your hands as you strap on your gear. your suit smells like old blood and gunpowder when you shrug it on, the familiar weight of weapons settling against your thighs as you step out into the night.
you take your usual patrol route - yours and mark's route, the one where he always complains about stopping for hot dogs but eats three anyway. every shadow makes your pulse jump, half-hoping you won't see him, half-terrified this might be your last chance if you do. the city stretches below you, all glittering lights and oblivious crowds. it looks peaceful from up here. you almost feel peaceful after finally accepting that you only have a few pages left before your book ends. (liar.)
"but of course," you murmur to no one in particular, gloved fingers tightening around the rooftop's edge, "you've got different plans for me, right?" the wind doesn't answer. then -
a rush of air colder than the night itself. the scent of leather and that cheap citrus body wash mark refuses to stop using.
"where the fuck have you been?" his voice loud like a gunshot, raw with something between rage and devastation. you don't turn. can't. the city lights blur beneath you as you focus on keeping your breathing even. "i said," mark snarls, closer now, "where the fuck have you been, you stupid son of a bitch-"
"you've been doing fine without me." your mask hits the concrete with a dull thud when you pull it off. the smile you force feels like a death rattle. "see? proof you won't completely lose it when something does happen to me-"
"will you fucking quit that?" mark's boots scuff against concrete as he storms forward. when you finally turn, his face is a mess of anger and fear, eyes glassy under the moonlight. "you always - fuck - you always talk like you've got one foot in the grave. why do you keep talking like that? are you- " his breath hitches, hands flexing at his sides like he wants to shake you or hold you or both, "are you planning on killing yourself?"
the laugh that tears from your throat sounds alien even to you. "what? no, i'm not-"
"stop lying!" mark's shout echoes off the rooftops, his composure shattering as tears finally spill over. your chest caves in at the sight - mark never cries, not even when he's bleeding out in some alleyway. his hands find yours with desperate urgency, calloused fingers trembling as they squeeze yours hard enough to bruise. "just... stop. if you're hurting, tell me. am i - " his voice breaks, "am i really not someone you can trust with this?"
he drags your joined hands up, pressing your knuckles to his forehead like a prayer. his breath brushes your wrists as he leans into the contact, hot against your skin. when he speaks again, it's so quiet the wind almost steals it: "i might be a disaster, but i fucking care. so please... let me in."
the dam breaks.
"i'm sorry," the words spill out in a broken whisper, saltwater dripping off your chin as tears carve hot paths down your wind-chapped cheeks. "god, mark, i'm so fucking sorry."
your hands slip from his trembling grip, moving on instinct as you drag him into the tightest embrace your battered body can manage. one hand finds its way between his shoulder blades, fingers spreading wide over the familiar topography of his suit's fabric as you rub slow, grounding circles into the knotted muscles beneath. the other settles at the dip of his waist, thumb tracing absentminded patterns against the curve of his hip through the thin material - that same spot you've secretly ached to touch for years, now warm and solid under your palm.
his breathing hitches when you pull him closer, his forehead coming to rest heavily against your shoulder as his hands fist in the back of your jacket like you might vanish if he lets go. (and he's almost right.) the scent of his shampoo mixes with gunpowder and copper as you tuck your face into the mess of his mohawk, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear when you murmur another apology into the space between you.
but it wasn't enough to just whisper apologies into his skin, not when you still hadn't told him the crushing truth - that soon you'd be nothing more than another ghost haunting his memories.
his breath is warm against your neck as you hold him, his heartbeat thundering against your chest in a rhythm you've memorized through countless battles. you let your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, smiling faintly when he shivers at the touch. "hey audience," you murmur silently against mark's shoulder, your voice barely a thought, "funny how i can take a bullet without flinching, but can't say three stupid little words to the guy who actually gives a shit if i live or die, huh?"
mark shifts in your arms, his calloused palm sliding up to cradle the back of your head like you're something precious. the moonlight paints silver and blue along the curve of his cheekbone when he tilts his face up, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your throat tight. you press your forehead to his instead, breathing him in - the citrus of his shampoo, the iron tang of blood from split knuckles, the unmistakable scent that's just mark. your thumb traces the arch of his cheekbone, wiping away tear tracks you pretend not to notice.
(you don't say i love you. but when his lips brush yours in something too soft to be a kiss and too tender to be an accident, you think maybe he knows anyway.)
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OH MY GOD 4.5k WORDS??? THIS MIGHT BE THE LONGEST ONE-SHOT I'VE EVER WRITTEN, and honestly... i think i might have cooked with this one-
321 notes · View notes
megalony · 5 months ago
Text
Accidental Damage
As promised, here is a new Eddie Diaz imagine which I think has turned out rather well.
Please let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Summary: Shannon turns up out of the blue, wanting to see Chris, but he doesn't want to see her. He thinks of (Y/n) as his mum now. (Y/n) tries to calm the situation, but things end up getting out of hand and an incident occurs.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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A groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she leaned forward until her arms were folded across the kitchen counter. Her forehead pressed into her arms and her lower back arched out to try and relieve the tension in her system.
It felt like her head was being smashed with a hammer and although leaning over like this was helping her head, it made her stomach feel heavy and weigh towards the floor.
Her eyes remained closed which seemed to help with her headache and she slid one arm off the counter to run along the side of her stomach. The baby was lively today. That was probably why she had a headache. The baby had been active enough last night that (Y/n) couldn't get much sleep and now she felt groggy and run down. She couldn't wait for Eddie to come home this afternoon; he always knew how to make her feel better.
The doorbell jolted (Y/n) out of her wallowing state and acted as a restart button in her system.
She pushed off the counter and slid her hand around to press into her back to click her spine into place as she straightened up. Two and a half months left of these aches and pains, and then she and Eddie would have a baby in their arms. It couldn't come soon enough.
She slowly headed out the kitchen and when she was in the hall, she heard the pop music blasting from Chris's bedroom which made her smile. He was doing some colouring and singing away to himself. He was happy and content in his room.
The doorbell chimed again and (Y/n) quietly groaned and began trudging down the hall.
It couldn't be Buck because he was supposed to be on shift the same as Eddie today, both of them should finish later this afternoon and Eddie said he would be home in time for tea. And (Y/n) knew her sister was at work at dispatch today, so it couldn't be Maddie popping round for a chat either.
She couldn't think who it would be as she shuffled towards the door on unsteady feet.
(Y/n) took a deep breath and tried to hold her chin up and straighten her shoulders as she unlocked the door. Greeting anyone while she was doubled over and looked like she had just woken up from a thousand year nap wasn't going to give the best impression, no matter who was on the other side of the threshold.
"Hello?" Her smile morphed into a look of confusion and uncertainty when she looked at the woman on the doorstep.
Oh dear.
Shannon.
Her long brown curls were hanging over her shoulders and her fringe, as always, was cut very close to her eyes like she used her fringe as a curtain to hide away from the world. But there was something scrutinising behind her eyes that made (Y/n) shiver and feel like retreating into her home for safety and sanctuary.
Shannon's smile wasn't inviting. It was a tight smile, as if smiling any wider or relaxing any further would cause her to fragment into pieces.
She had one hand around her bag on her shoulder and her other hand was nervously rubbing across her hip like she had too much energy and didn't know what to do with herself.
"What're you doing here?" (Y/n) tried to keep her tone neutral but it was extremely hard when Shannon was glaring at her like that with curled lips and an upturned nose. She looked displeased, but it was (Y/n) who should be unsettled out of the pair of them.
Shannon couldn't just turn up here whenever she felt like it. If she wanted to see Chris she had to call first and arrange a date to visit, and they didn't usually do visits at home. (Y/n) couldn't recall the last time Chris had seen Shannon, it had been months ago when she had last been in town. Unscheduled visits weren't good for Chris because seeing Shannon always unsettled him and made him upset.
"Hi to you too." Shannon's hand tightened around her bag but the way she looked (Y/n) up and down made her shiver.
(Y/n) hadn't had too many run-ins with Eddie's ex. They knew each other, of course they did, (Y/n) had been to the very few scheduled meets between Shannon and Chris. And Eddie had to tell Shannon when he got re-married because (Y/n) was all Chris had talked about at the time. But both women hardly ever saw one another these days.
"Eddie never said you were expecting." A disgruntled look flooded Shannon's face and (Y/n) could of sworn she could see jealousy pooling within her eyes.
She glanced down to her stomach and moved one arm to curve around her waist almost protectively.
Did Eddie have to tell Shannon everything that went on in his life? They hardly spoke, only when they wanted to arrange meets for Chris and that wasn't a regular occurrence in itself. But a pang did shoot through (Y/n)'s chest at the thought that Eddie didn't mention it. He didn't have to, but surely it was something that should come up in conversation.
Them having a baby changed things. It cemented things for Chris, it made them a family and a sibling was something Chris was going to talk about if he had more meetings with Shannon.
"Did he need to?" She tilted her head to one side and tried to keep her stoic expression. Eddie wasn't on good speaking terms with Shannon these days, and he didn't have to tell her anything about his life if he didn't want to.
(Y/n) found herself stepping closer to the threshold so she could pull the door with her, standing in the small space between the frame and the door. She didn't want Chris hearing or knowing who was at the door because seeing Shannon only upset him.
He hadn't understood in the beginning when Shannon left, he had been frightened and confused, but he didn't hold it against her. When she came back into his life after three years, he was delighted. But it didn't last very long. Chris didn't see her often, Shannon wasn't ready to commit to him fully and that broke Chris.
When Eddie married (Y/n), Chris felt like he had another mum, someone who loved him and who he could rely on. He felt that stability being threatened whenever Shannon came around.
How would Chris take this if he found his mother on the doorstep? He would get worried about being abandoned again or worry that Shannon would try and take him from this home. This family where he was happier than ever. And if Shannon left again, (Y/n) and Eddie would have to deal with the aftermath. They couldn't let him get hurt again.
She could see the anger that swirled in Shannon's eyes and the resentment that was plastered across her face when her upper lip curled and she was at the point of baring her teeth.
"I think it's rather important, don't you?"
"Maybe if you were more involved, he would have told you." (Y/n) couldn't help her quipped response.
Shannon and Eddie were divorced, they were legally cut from one another, no more ties connecting them to reopen the wounds that had taken years to heal. Did Shannon believe Eddie would never get into another serious relationship with someone else?
It wasn't as if he had left Shannon a few months ago and had quickly moved onto (Y/n). It had been four years since they split up, not four months.
"Why're you here?"
"I want to see my son."
Shannon pursed her lips and squared her shoulders like she was preparing herself for an interview. She tried to lean around (Y/n) and look into the house, but she couldn't see very much with the way (Y/n) had angled the door.
"Not today." (Y/n) shook her head and clung to the door a bit tighter. Why couldn't Shannon have turned up yesterday when Eddie had been home? Why did she have to come here now, when (Y/n) was on her own and more importantly, when Chris was home? This wasn't fair.
"You don't get to make the rules here-"
"And you don't get to turn up when it suits you, and mess with Chris's head and then flaunt off for God knows how long again. I know Eddie's talked to you about this. Call him if you want to see Chris and we can arrange something, but you can't do this."
It wasn't fair on Chris. They had it in writing. When Eddie and Shannon got divorced, it was part of the agreement that Chris would stay with Eddie and Shannon was able to visit. But she had to pre-arrange those visits and if Chris said no, he couldn't be forced to see her. But Chris often felt guilty and he didn't feel able to say no.
Shannon couldn't turn up and decide when and where she wanted to see Chris, that wasn't good for him. He liked routines and structure and turning up unannounced like this was only going to unsettle him.
"Mum, can we do some more painting?"
(Y/n) tilted her head down and stared at her feet as she leaned on the door frame.
She had been worried about this.
When Chris asked her if she would adopt him, (Y/n) had cried. It had been such a good moment, one she would never forget and she couldn't quite wrap her head around it when Chris started calling her mum. It was delightful, but (Y/n) feared the day it would happen when Shannon was within earshot.
She knew it couldn't be nice to hear her son calling someone else his mother, but then again, this whole situation was Shannon's doing. She wasn't the victim here.
A dangerous look crossed Shannon's face. It was as if all the anger was physically bubbling up inside of her and her skin started to turn a dark shade of rouge while her hands balled up into fists at her sides.
She wasn't stupid. She knew Chris didn't know she was here on the doorstep and if he did, that wouldn't be the first thing he called out to her. He was asking for (Y/n). He was calling (Y/n) his mum. It was as if reality came crashing down onto Shannon and showed her just how much time had passed since she last saw her son. Time was telling her that there was always a deadline and she had far missed it by a few years.
(Y/n) had stepped into the role Shannon had left behind. She had become Chris's mother and he was thrilled to have her in his life.
"You are not his mother. I am." The way she sneered the words made (Y/n)'s breathing quicken and she swallowed hard, willing herself not to throw up.
She wished Eddie was home.
Her hand stayed on her stomach and began to rub soothing circles when the baby started to kick up a fuss, but it didn't feel the same as when Eddie was here. His touch was a natural remedy for (Y/n), the baby livened up when Eddie was around and settled at the sound of his voice.
"What kind of mother disappears for four years at a time? I'm here with him every day-"
"I had to leave, you wouldn't understand, but I thought of him every single day."
The tears in her eyes almost made (Y/n) feel bad. Almost. But she couldn't agree with her. Leaving for a few weeks, a few months at a push, was understandable. But all this time was simply incomprehensible. No calls. No letters or visits or zoom calls. She cut all ties with Chris like he was nothing but a distant relative to her and (Y/n) couldn't understand that and if it was her place, she wouldn't forgive that either.
"While you thought of him, I took care of him. He wants to call me his mum and Eddie's fine with that. It's his choice."
(Y/n) loved Chris, but she wouldn't say that to Shannon. She wouldn't dig the knife in any harder when it wasn't necessary. She would try and be civil because she wasn't in any mood or any state to be stood here arguing when this was her own home and Shannon shouldn't be here.
"Mum!" Chris's high-pitched whine broke through the corridor and (Y/n) cringed when she heard his footsteps approaching and the sound of him patting his hands on the walls. Something he often did when he was walking without his crutches, his way of making sure he didn't go too fast and trip up.
"Just a minute-" She closed her eyes and sighed when he barrelled over to her.
He was a social butterfly. Chris loved going out places and having people come over and he loved to see who was at the door and invite people in.
He hurried over to (Y/n) and looped his arms around her waist with his head on her shoulder. But when he leaned forward and nudged the door so he could see who was on the doorstep, all the colour seemed to fade from his skin. His smile disappeared and the light burned out of his eyes when he saw Shannon stood on the doorstep.
Panic welled up in Chris's chest and he clutched at (Y/n) tighter until she winced and felt like he was going to squeeze her until she burst.
Her arm looped around his shoulders and she ran her hand up and down his back to try and keep him calm and reassure him that everything was okay, but he looked worried. The way he pressed into her side and tucked his cheek into her chest told (Y/n) he wasn't happy. He tended to cling to her a lot more when he was unsettled or worried about something, and right now, he was scared.
He actually winced when Shannon smiled and tried to lean closer to him and he saw how her face fell when he pushed into (Y/n) and twisted away from Shannon like he thought her touch was infectious.
"Why you here?" His words were slightly muffled against (Y/n)'s chest and he actually flinched when Shannon tried to squeeze his arm.
He hated the way her expression dropped and he could see tears in her eyes because Chris hated upsetting her. Before she left, they had been close. She had been his mum and she meant the world to Chris, but that had all changed.
(Y/n) was his mum now.
She was the one who cooked with him, who picked him up from school and helped him with his homework. She tucked him in bed at night and read books with him. (Y/n) held him when he was panicking or having a meltdown and she laid with him when he was sick. She took him out on trips and was with him every day without fail.
She was the woman his dad loved, she was the one who lived with them and who was always making his dad smile. She had become his mum and now he was having a baby sister. This was his family, Chris didn't want Shannon disrupting what they had.
"She just came to talk for a minute, that's all." (Y/n) lifted her hand from Chris's shoulder so she could card her fingers through his curls.
She didn't want him to get upset or start panicking. He didn't have to sit and talk to Shannon today if he didn't want to and no one was going to make him go out for contact with her if he wanted to stay home.
(Y/n) darted her eyes from Chris back to Shannon and she tried not to flinch at the look she was being given by the other woman. Shannon had her nose curled and her arms were deadlocked around her chest, but (Y/n) could see her fingers tapping on her arms and one foot was tapping irrationally against the floor. She was clearly distraught about this news and didn't know what to do with herself.
"What gives you the right to be his mother?" Her voice was quiet but the malice laced in her tone made (Y/n)'s stomach drop and she knew Chris heard because he flinched and tucked further into (Y/n)'s side.
"I adopted him."
(Y/n) sucked in a deep breath when she felt Chris's arms pinch into her waist and he bound himself tighter into her side until he was pressing uncomfortably on the baby. She tried not to lean into Chris too much but she couldn't help but fidget when the baby started to wriggle and Chris was squeezing all the air out of her lungs.
The way he looked up at her made (Y/n) want to cry. She could see the fright hidden within his eyes, and she knew exactly what he was afraid of.
When (Y/n) and Eddie got married, Chris had sat down with them one afternoon and timidly asked if (Y/n) would adopt him. It had been his idea and both (Y/n) and Eddie had been in shock and tears at his request. They both agreed immediately because it was a lovely thing for Chris to ask and it was the responsible thing for them to do.
That way, if Eddie ever got hurt on shift again like when he got shot, or something happened, he didn't have to worry about who would look after Chris. He wouldn't panic about a fight happening between his parents and (Y/n) because Eddie knew Chris would want to stay with (Y/n) if anything happened to him, but his parents might want to take Chris. This way, it was all legal and set in stone.
And it felt more safe and secure for Chris and meant he could call (Y/n) his mum for real because she technically was now.
But Chris had been worried. He was frightened that because he asked for (Y/n) to adopt him, then he might upset Shannon. He was scared she would think he was replacing he. He used to be so close to Shannon before she left and Chris never liked to upset her and he knew this would hurt her. He only calmed down when Eddie promised him that he had nothing to be ashamed of and everything was okay.
"What?" Shannon spoke as if this was some kind of atrocity and her expression was as livid as anyone (Y/n) had ever seen.
Her eyes darted between (Y/n) and Chris, but it was (Y/n) she was glaring holes into and (Y/n) feared if she weren't pregnant, the elder woman might have slapped her.
"But he's my son!"
"I married Eddie and his job is risky. I asked if I could adopt Chris so if anything happens to Eddie or the school can't get hold of him, I have a right to care for Chris. It was a precaution."
It meant Chris would never have to go and stay with Shannon or Eddie's parents if he didn't want to. He could stay with the person who had been raising him since she met Eddie. The woman who had taken him on as her own child. It meant he could stay with (Y/n).
The way Chris relaxed against (Y/n) made her feel a little better, especially when he stopped squeezing her. But the way he relaxed his arms made (Y/n)'s waist throb; he had been cutting off her circulation without realising. She could sense the panic dwindling down within him and it made her relieved.
She had made sure Shannon wouldn't find out Chris had asked for the adoption. She wouldn't let Chris panic or give Shannon any reason to be upset with him. (Y/n) was perfectly fine with Shannon hating her.
"Go inside baby, I won't be long." Turning to the side, (Y/n) kissed the top of Chris's curls and gently ushered him to go back inside.
Her eyes followed him as he headed towards the living room but he was constantly looking back over his shoulder to make sure both of them were okay and a fight wasn't going to break out. Chris didn't like this. He wanted (Y/n) to come back inside with him too and for Shannon to leave.
(Y/n) prayed that he was out of earshot, but she knew he hadn't turned the tv on so she figured he would be trying to eavesdrop. He was nervous and he wanted to make sure they weren't arguing about him and find out what was happening. Chris was going to try and listen in if he could.
She turned back to look at Shannon and her hand tightened around the door. "You need to go."
"You've taken my family. Chris is our son, I gave birth to him-" The way Shannon's hand splayed out at her side and she stomped her foot on the porch made (Y/n) shudder.
"And I'm the one who stayed. You have a problem with that, go call Eddie."
She wasn't doing this anymore. She wasn't standing around arguing with her husband's ex. If Shannon wanted to talk, she could go and phone Eddie and arrange to meet with him or try and meet with Chris. She couldn't turn up and start a fight like this and expect (Y/n) to back down and go along with it.
With a deep breath, she stepped back and tried to shut the door but it didn't work so well when Shannon stuck her foot in the way and tried to push her way inside.
This argument wasn't over and Shannon wasn't leaving now she had heard this bombshell. She wanted to talk about this and she wanted to talk to Chris.
"Get out or I'm calling Eddie." Panic struck a chord in (Y/n)'s chest and she shivered as she tried to shove the door again to get Shannon to move.
She was going to have to phone Eddie.
He was at work, he could be out on a call in the middle of a hectic situation and (Y/n) promised herself never to call him at work unless it was an emergency. Or she was calling in the evening so he could say goodnight to Chris.
Did this count as an emergency?
Shannon was trying to get into their home, she was going to cause an argument and she was going to upset Chris. Maybe getting Eddie on the phone or at least pretending to call him might make Shannon relent and leave. She must know this wasn't going to do Chris any good, it wasn't fair to him.
"Call him." The way Shannon leaned closer and sneered down at (Y/n) made her stumble back a step which in turn allowed Shannon to push inside. "How would you like it if I took your baby?"
Her hand swatted out near (Y/n)'s stomach and for the first time, she thought she saw tears welling up in Shannon's eyes. But she couldn't be sure if they were tears of agony, anguish or frustration at being left behind.
"Shannon stop- please-" (Y/n) looked over her shoulder towards the living room but she couldn't see Chris.
She was going to upset him.
(Y/n) couldn't be sure what words tumbled past Shannon's lips in a fury, but she knew she heard '… isn't fair' and 'not yours' and those last words cut to her heart. She may not have given birth to Chris, but she had certainly bonded with him and took him on as her own. She was as good a mother as anyone else and it wasn't her fault that Shannon had stepped aside long enough for (Y/n) to take her place. Wasn't it better for Chris to have someone he saw as a mum than nobody at all?
Trying again to shut the door, (Y/n) nudged Shannon back and planted her feet on the spot so Shannon couldn't push past her. This was her home and she wasn't having anyone barge their way inside like this.
But the way Shannon shoved the door with so much frustration and callousness made the door swing back at (Y/n). Coupled with the way Shannon pushed into her, (Y/n) stumbled back.
Her eyes snapped closed and her arms coiled into her chest but it didn't prevent the shriek from leaving her lips when her feet slid from beneath her and her back collided with the cabinet. Shockwaves rattled through her system and she felt her limbs shaking and jerking when her lower back rammed into the edge of the cabinet before she landed on the floor on her bum with a thud.
"Shit!" Her hand slammed out into the cabinet in frustration and she tilted her head back until she was leaning against the wall.
Both her legs trembled against the floor and one hand pressed into the floor to steady herself while the other moved to cradle her bump. It had been her back that hit the cabinet, her back that was now pulsing in agony from the shock. But she could feel the baby wriggling and kicking as if she had suddenly woken them up from a nap.
She hadn't fell on her stomach or knocked her bump at all and she wasn't crippled in horrible agony, it was just her lower back that was going to be bruised come tomorrow.
"Mum?!" The terror in Chris's voice made (Y/n) cringe and she opened her bleary eyes to see him hurrying her way.
His knees made a horrid sound when he crashed to the floor beside her and his hands were instantly grabbing at her arms, trying to comfort her and check whether she was okay. The way Chris's features steadily started to redden and tense made (Y/n) wince; her boy looked furious.
"It's okay- I'm okay." She couldn't hide the wince that flashed across her face when she sat up and she moved her hand to rub at her back near her hips. But when she felt Shannon's hands reaching out for her arms to try and help her up, she roughly flung her arm out.
"Don't touch me." She spat roughly and grabbed the cabinet to try and use it as leverage to get herself up.
She could feel Chris's hands on her back and arm, trying to help her up and once she was on her feet, he attached himself to her like a leech. His face merged into her chest and he tried to let her lean on him just in case she didn't feel well or she might collapse. But when he turned to look at Shannon, anger burned within his chocolate eyes.
"Go away!" His voice was high and rough and he tugged (Y/n) back with him to add distance between them and Shannon.
For the first time, Shannon looked at a loss for words and what to do and she seemed to dither on the spot. She wanted to protest, it was clear in her expression that she wanted to try and explain and patch up this situation because she didn't want Chris to be upset with her. But the damage was already done and there wasn't anything Shannon could do.
"Just leave."
The moment she slammed the door behind her, (Y/n) turned and kissed Chris's temple. She curled her arms around him and they stood there for a little while, hugging one another.
"You hurt?" She could hear the panic in his voice and it made her arms tighten around him.
"No baby, I'm alright." She hummed into his hair and slowly turned to try and guide him back to the living room. She was okay, but she wanted to sit down, and she didn't want Chris to be worrying about her. He was upset enough as it was. He didn't have to try and look after (Y/n), she was okay and she was the one who needed to comfort him.
"Should I call dad?"
"No, don't tell your dad."
(Y/n) didn't want Eddie panicking. She would tell him later on when he came home if she needed to. There was no point worrying him now when he was at work.
***
"What have you been up to today?" Eddie tilted his head down and kissed the top of Chris's head when his boy barrelled into him. He had barely been in the house two minutes and Chris was hugging him like they hadn't seen each other in days, weeks, months even.
"Panting." The word was mumbled into Eddie's chest, but it was the tone of Chris's voice that set Eddie on edge.
"Oh yeah, let me see." He glanced his eyes around the living room but he looked back down to Chris when he shook his head against Eddie's chest.
"Not finished yet."
With that, Chris huffed and finally unravelled from their hug. He snatched up the few paintings he had been trying to work on all afternoon and trudged down the hall in a sluggish manner like he was half asleep.
Eddie stood watching him, a dumbfounded expression on his face and his head tilting to one side as Chris disappeared into his room.
That wasn't the usual welcome he got when he came home. Chris never usually hugged him that desperately unless Eddie had been on double shifts or Chris wasn't well or was feeling upset. And he was usually bright and bubbly and eager to tell Eddie what he had been up to whether it was about his lessons in school or what he and (Y/n) had been doing during the day.
With a shake of his head, Eddie headed out the living room and peered into the dining room before he headed into the kitchen, looking for his wife.
His eyes settled on (Y/n) who was drifting around the kitchen like she was in a world of her own. She looked like she was tidying up, but the way she practically thrust the plates into the cupboard and how they rattled like they were about to shatter told Eddie that maybe, (Y/n) wasn't herself either.
"Baby, are you both okay? Chris barely spoke to me, he seems anxious." Eddie headed into the kitchen and leaned one hand on the kitchen island while his other hand found his hip and his head tilted to one side.
Leaning forward, (Y/n) arched her back out and leaned on the counter while she moved one hand to run up and down her face. She was glad her back was currently to Eddie or he would have seen the tears welling up in her eyes. She knew he could read every one of her expressions and if she turned to look at him, he would know she was upset- no, she was furious. And in agony.
"Shannon stopped by." It took a lot of effort to control her voice and try to sound passive and calm rather than infuriated and pained.
She put another few pots back in the cupboards but she couldn't refrain from reaching her hand around to press into her lower back that felt like it was on fire. It was as if every nerve was igniting and sizzling like a fuse on a firework.
When she went to the bathroom, (Y/n) didn't dare turn around and look in the mirror because she didn't want to see the bruises that were going to be littering her lower back. It didn't feel like she had fallen that badly earlier, but after an hour, her back began to seize up and ache and now it was getting worse.
"What? Why?"
"I don't know." She shook her head, wiped her hands beneath her eyes and finally turned around to face him. "You tell her not to pull a stunt like that again, Chris saw her and it's rattled him. She does that again and I'll swing for her."
Eddie's eyes widened and he took a deep breath as he moved to stand in front of her. The way her voice wobbled and the way she kept tensing her neck and tilting her chin told Eddie she was finding it hard not to burst into tears.
He hadn't known Shannon would turn up today. Eddie couldn't remember the last time he spoke to her, it had been that long. She never usually turned up unannounced and if she did, it was to talk to Eddie about something, not to blunder in and try to disrupt their lives and see Chris. She knew how upsetting it would be for hi,- at least, Eddie thought he had made that clear.
His heart lurched into his throat when he saw the grimace that flooded (Y/n)'s face and the way she leaned back on the counter like she couldn't hold herself up.
Reaching out, Eddie took (Y/n)'s arms and reeled her off the counter in favour of looping her arms around his neck instead. His hands moved to her waist and he pulled her closer until her bump was pressing into his abdomen and he leant his head down until their temples were pressed together.
"Hey, hey calm down." His hands gently squeezed her waist and he took a few deep breaths to try and coax (Y/n) to do the same. "I'll call her tomorrow and set the ground rules again, I'll make it clear she can't come by unannounced."
(Y/n) nodded and tried to take a deep breath. "Good."
Her eyes closed for a few moments but her hands tightened around Eddie's neck and she leaned into him when her back twinged.
"Are you okay?" Eddie's hand shifted from her waist to cup the side of her face and he stroked his thumb across her cheek as his eyes narrowed.
"Just- just worked up." She tried to nod her head but the reassuring look faded from her eyes and she let her eyes cast down to Eddie's chest so he didn't see the pain sparking within them. She didn't want to worry him. That was the last thing (Y/n) wanted to do. She didn't want to argue about Shannon either, her being here had caused enough arguments and problems as it was.
"Well that's not allowed, so go sit down and calm down for me. Hm?"
He tilted his head down to steal a kiss but he felt the way (Y/n)'s breathing hitched against his and how she seemed to lean into him a little more as if she didn't want him to let go. His touch lingered on her hips when (Y/n) finally moved out of his hold and his eyes followed her and the way she kept moving her hand towards her back as she walked.
Something wasn't right. She didn't look well.
(Y/n) was sure she heard the kettle flick on in the background and she heard Eddie humming as he set about making a drink.
Her eyes cast about the living room but she sighed when she realised Chris must have gone to his room. He usually sat with them when Eddie came home and he hadn't finished his paintings, the brushes and paint pallet were still on the coffee table along with the painting table cloth. Chris usually tried to finish any artwork he started, he didn't like leaving them. Shannon had really disgruntled him today.
(Y/n) shuffled between the chair and the sofa, aiming to tidy the coffee table but she doubled over when her back twinged again.
Her left hand moved to cradle her lower bump and her other hand grabbed the armchair before she stumbled to her knees.
"Fuck." She tipped her head down and closed her eyes, trying to ward off the pain in her back. She was going to have to get Eddie to take a look, she couldn't carry on with this striking pain that was steadily getting worse; she had definitely pulled a muscle or trapped a nerve when she fell.
Maybe sitting down like Eddie suggested would do her some good and make her feel better.
She moved to try and ease onto the sofa, but she stopped abruptly when another pain struck her, but it wasn't her back again. It was her stomach.
Her left hand reached out for the sofa but when she moved her right hand down from her stomach to her thighs, a cold slither of dread slithered down her spine. Everything started to spin and her body succumbed to trembling when she saw the blood coating her palm.
Her fingers rapidly skimmed across her thighs again and she pulled at her leggings and noticed they were starting to become damp.
"Eddie… Eddie, oh God."
Tears welled up in her eyes and she whimpered, unable to take her eyes off her palm that was coated with blood. This wasn't good. Why was she bleeding? She had been okay earlier, except for the back pain.
"What- baby what happened?" He felt the way she jumped when his hands found her arms and he carefully turned her around so she was facing him when (Y/n) stayed deadlocked in place.
His eyes narrowed and he looked (Y/n) up and down, trying to see what was worrying her. But he hated the look on her face when she held her hand out towards him and whimpered. He didn't realise he was moving until his hand was gripping her wrist tightly and his other hand stayed on her elbow.
He stepped closer until there was barely any space between them and he roamed his frantic eyes up and down her frame to find the source of the blood. He didn't like what he saw.
"I don't- oow." When she crippled forward and pressed her face into his chest, Eddie cupped the back of her neck and kissed her head.
He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, trying its best to break out of her chest and envelope around (Y/n). He wanted to calm her down, he wanted to tuck her safely into his heart and look after her but to do that he was going to have to take her to hospital.
"Shit, shit baby just stay there a minute. I'll grab Chris and see if Buck can watch him, you need to go to the ER."
(Y/n) shook her head and tried to push into Eddie when he moved to weave around her. She choked on her breath, desperate for Eddie to stay here with her. She didn't want to be left on her own, not for a second. She didn't know what was happening and she needed to keep the baby safe.
"One minute baby, I swear." His wet lips pressed into her rather warm temple and he helped her lean against the sofa before he sped down the hall.
He sent a few rushed texts off to Buck to see if he could have Chris and he could of cried when he got an instant response saying to drop Chris off. Both Eddie and Buck had just left shift and come home, Buck had no plans and he would always look after his nephew whether it was an emergency or not.
He rapped his knuckles on the bedroom door and leaned in the doorway, waving his hand at Chris who was laid on his bed on his stomach with a book in front of him.
"Buddy, come with me, I'm gonna drop you with uncle Buck. I need to take mum to the doctor." He didn't want to worry Chris, he really didn't, but he needed them to get a move on. They had to leave now.
"Is she hurt?"
The panic that flooded Chris's face took Eddie by surprise and he tilted his head to one side, squinting at his son in confusion. Eddie said the doctor, not the hospital. Could he see the panic on Eddie's face so clearly, or was he worried about something else?
"Uh, no, she's not feeling well. Come on, quick as you can." When he motioned his hand out towards Chris, his boy hopped off the bed and scuttled over to him immediately.
He burrowed into Eddie's side and let his dad usher him out of the room and into the hall. But Eddie could feel his boy trembling and shrinking in on himself like he was afraid of something.
Their speed-walk slowed down somewhat when Chris tilted his head back into Eddie's chest and looked up at his dad with big blown eyes and pursed lips.
"Is- is it because of the fall?" He cringed when he saw his dad's face fall and a manic look flooded his face.
Chris knew he wasn't technically supposed to talk about it, his mum asked him not to because she would explain. And he didn't want to think back to what happened this morning when Shannon turned up. But if his mum wasn't well, then maybe it was because of what happened and if that was the case, then Shannon was to blame in this situation.
"What, what fall?" The suspicious tone in Eddie's voice made Chris shrink in on himself and he darted his head into the living room to look at his mum.
A dark look passed over Eddie's eyes and (Y/n) leaned on the back of the sofa to prop herself up when she felt like those daggers he was shooting her way were going to cut her into pieces. Her hands clutched at the sofa and her lower back arched out as she shook her head in Chris's direction.
"Chris, no-"
"You fell? Somebody explain to me now what happened."
(Y/n) could feel tears glistening in her eyes and trickling down her face at the demanding tone to Eddie's voice and the possessive look in his eyes. He looked more riled up than she had ever seen him and she knew it was making Chris unsure. He felt like he had said something wrong.
Moving her arm to point behind her, (Y/n) muttered "Go get in the car," to which Chris nodded immediately. He felt Eddie pass him down the car keys and he hurried towards the front door. He knew they would be in the car within a minute because they needed to go and whatever they talked about wasn't going to last long when (Y/n) needed a doctor.
Biting her lip, (Y/n) cast her eyes down to stare into her bump when she felt Eddie advance towards her. She shivered and held her breath when he stood beside her and she felt his hands cupping he face. His thumbs stroked her cheekbones and he tilted her head up so she was staring into those dark eyes that were burning through into her soul.
The way his lips pursed and his brows rose made (Y/n) shudder and she tried to hold back tears when his eyes burned into hers.
"What. Fall?"
His words were punctuated and slow and the deep breath he took made (Y/n) reach up and cling to his wrists to keep herself steady.
"Shannon wouldn't leave, I- I tried to get her to go… she blundered in a-and I fell against the cabinet. I thought- it was just my back, Eddie I didn't know," When her eyes cast down to her bump, (Y/n) couldn't help the little sob that bubbled past her lips and she gripped his wrists so tightly she cut off the circulation to his fingers.
It had been her back that hit the cabinet and it felt like she had hurt a muscle, she hadn't hit her stomach or fell on her bump or fallen with that much of a thud. She thought she would be okay. She thought the baby was okay, they had been wriggling and kicking since the small accident and she hadn't had any pains until this last hour.
"Okay, okay shh. It happens…" His lips attached to her temple and he let her lean into his chest and bind her arms around his chest.
Eddie understood, he knew some tiny falls could cause big impacts and other times a big fall or accident didn't do any harm at all to the baby. And if (Y/n) had felt fine until now then no one would have figured anything would of been wrong. But he needed to get her to the hospital now to look after her and the baby.
When a sudden thought dwelled at the front of his mind, Eddie's hands stiffened against her neck and he held his breath. He carefully reeled her head up from his chest to look down at her.
"Did she push you?" The dark, gravelly tone to his voice made (Y/n) tighten her arms around him.
"No, not really, but she- she wouldn't leave," More tears trickled down her face as Eddie carefully turned her around in his arms so her back was pressed up against his chest.
Eddie kept one hand firmly on her hip and held the other hand out in front of her so she could grip his hand for stability. He started to guide her towards the door with his lips attached to the back of her head and they walked in slow tandem together. But Eddie could feel every wave of pain that tore through (Y/n) and had her whimpering and doubling over.
She felt the growl that vibrated from Eddie's chest through to hers when they headed out the door and Eddie locked it behind them.
"I'll kill her for this."
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wonryllis · 1 year ago
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✶ 𝟭𝟳𝟳𝟱 (𝓥 ) SATAN'S IMAGINATION, AGENT ENHYPEN.
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╰ 𝖠𝖫𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤𝖫𝖸, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋.
THE ATELIER. agent!enhypen hanging on that line between act and reality with agent!reader. word count 1261 CONTAINS— fluff, suggestive, fem!reader. ( ARCHIVE? ) pls reblog!!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he feels his breath caught in a dangerously thin line between staying professional and kissing the hell out of you, your body pressed against him between the narrow shelves.
he's probably at fault for blowing your cover earlier but all he can think about right now is the way the light through the windows make your glossed lips glow and your messy hair look sensual.
each inhale and exhale a battle against his self-control.
"do you think they noticed?" your voice sounds more tempting than ever in the low whisper you let out against his chest and heeseung swears he's fighting demons right now. "i hope not," he sighs heavy, feeling himself leaning into you, getting carried away as his conscience slowly slips and cracks.
lips almost brushing when you suddenly look up, wide eyes boring into his,"i think they just walked past," unaware and painfully oblivious of what your partner was about to do to you. of how he was ready to devour you.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 with the biggest lovesick smile ever, jay watches you act coy in your character, gently excusing yourself to the washroom.
"act like you want me, but more like you love me," your soft words tingle his ear as you discreetly whisper to him just before you leave the dinner table. are you dense or are you just too professional? there is no way you think the look on his face isn't already giving away his feelings to all these people around the table you're supposed to fool.
he chuckles deep and smitten as he stands seconds after,"i apologize gentlemen, but my love needs my help," excusing himself as well.
with each step he takes towards you, he realizes the wicked idea you have in your wicked little brain.
his heart skipping beats and blood rushing everywhere when you throw yourself at him, dragging him to bathroom with your lips hovering over his making sure the targeted people get a glimpse of it and get the wrong idea.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 jake grins wider as your palm presses flat against his chest first and then fingers curl to mimic a gun, your tips emulating a spark of electricity through his veins, feeling the blood pump harder in his heart.
"you better not take advantage of our cover to steal kisses, sim," it is crazy how he feels disappointed yet amused at the same time, you doing this right now is the hottest thing ever but you refusing to let him kiss you later is a tad bit upsetting plus you knowing he loves to do that has him dazed.
"can't promis—" his breath gets knocked out mid sentence as you grab him by his tie and smash your lips together in a sloppy and short kiss.
"that's is all you can have for the night, focus on the mission agent three,"
now that was hotter than the hottest thing you could have ever done to him, and you decide to do it right before work. oh how he wishes he had kissed back harder and show you just what you'd be missing out on later.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 his eyes scan across your rather overly feminine dressed figure amble over to him, stance seductive and alluring in the red cocktail gown he helped you pick hours ago.
"that was disgusting," he says as soon as you stop beside him.
he was glad the mission was successful and he was so glad he picked this dress for you. feeling a sense of pride that he has always been the first one to see you dolled up and that he has always been your date and that he has always been gotten to take you home at the end of night.
the only thing he feels jealous about right now is that while he has always been all that, it has always been the targets who get to feel you all up and who get to see your siren side showing them how it would be if you were interested in them.
"well it wasn't for you anyway, mr hotshot," you bite back and sunghoon almost breaks on the verge of exposing that he'd die for it to him, for you to seduce the heck out of him.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 the hawk-like focus sunoo had on you seemed so normal to you both, you didn't even realize when it turned into something possesive and unfitting for agents just working together.
perhaps it was for the reason that you two had been paired up together for couple missions, or perhaps it was because you both trained together everyday. there was this sense of belonging you had developed, unaware of how it was changing things in your work dynamics.
"your gaze is so fake, come on baby i know you can give a more sultry one, remember our practice?" sunoo speaks through the in-ears, his eyes locked with yours across the other end of the vip club, watching you try to seduce the target.
the sparkle of tension crackling in the air as you held the eye contact, sunoo's ego blasting at the back of his mind knowing he's the only one who's seen the real thing.
"just imagine it's me, and finish it up so you can actually come back to me,"
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 his gaze is envious and bitter, feeling his blood boil over the revelation you just made. "so you know him well?" the tone being one of grudge and spite, he continues to watch you strap on the weapons around you body. places under your dress where one would probably not have the chance to touch, unless it's him.
which amplifies his jealousy to a staggering height at the realization that the target you are chasing this time probably has touched you in those places before. maybe even more than he has.
the dismissive nod you respond with, makes jungwon's impatience fly through the roof, walking closer to trap you against the table where the weapons laid. "better than me?"
the air thickens with implication of his words, jungwon himself is unaware what the undertone of it means.
if it's how well you know him or if it's something entirely different, something that makes him want to leave kisses down your neck like he did the last time.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 his breath is laboured as he helps you rush out the pool, your fancy dress drenched and heavy weighing you down more than he'd anticipated. quickly you both find a spot in the showers to hide, squeezing into a single booth.
he's brisk and sharp, giving you a hand in stepping out your wet dress into the latex suit underneath. letting you put your weight on him, your hands holding onto his body while you undo the strings and sleeves. the possibilities of getting caught are on high alert yet riki can't find it in him to focus on anything besides you.
the way you look so hot in your agent attire, your hair wet and sticking to the sides of your face making you appear so cute in contrast to you getting ready to fight men a step outside the door.
he has always found it so attractive, and the thought of admitting it openly just makes him more dazed.
his fingers reach out to push away the strands around your eyes and lips, thumb brushing a second longer on your lips, "i really wanna kiss you right now," he whispers into your ears, lips grazing against it softly.
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taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries
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their reaction to you wearing a flavoured lipstick
task force 141 x reader headcanons
synopsis: headcanons of how would they react when the reader wears a flavoured lipstick/lip gloss/lip balm
notes: can you tell who is my favourite?
comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈
warnings: mentions of smoking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff
find it on a03 masterlist
Captain 'John' Price - chocolate and red velvet
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He may be slightly old-fashioned and love it when you wear red lipstick as he considers it a classy, but bold choice of colour
He is aware that you own more than one red lipstick, yet he secretly cannot differentiate one shade from another. Not that he'll ever let you know
That is until one day you visit him at work. He won't let it show, but he becomes jealous the second you walk in the base, your lips painted in a rich, velvety crimson. He cannot take his eyes off you, hypnotized by the captivating movement of your lips as you speak to him, telling him about your day and what you thought you should have for dinner.
John does not miss the hungry looks that are thrown across your way. He is quick to snake his hand around your waist and usher you to his office, where he could be the only one relishing in the allure the red lipstick cast over you-
"John, you're not really listening, are you?" your playful tone snaps him out of his reverie, a sheepish look plastered on his face.
"Love, did I ever tell you how much red lipstick suits you?"
"Only twice per day and more than ten times per night…" you roll your eyes at his antics, cupping his cheeks in your hands and planting a kiss at the corner of his lips, letting out a small giggle as his stubble tickled your lips.
"Well, I am headed home to get started on that dinner you didn't pay attention to!" you keep teasing him, amused by his dazzled expression. Little did you know, you had him wrapped around your finger.
"A…Alright, drive safe! I'll be there as soon as I finish this paperwork!"
Only he spends the next hour daydreaming about your red lips and the tender way they made contact with his skin, the phantom touch still lingering on the corner of his lips. Unconsciously, he traces his tongue over the place, freezing when he feels a mild flavour of chocolate.
He checks it once again, partially ashamed of the childish gesture. If any of his teammates caught him at that moment, they wouldn't let him live it down. But the subtle taste is there, sweet yet distant, almost as if it was teasing him.
The paperwork's long forgotten before he realizes it must be your lipstick. You might have told him that you found a new flavoured collection, but he had been too busy staring at your giddy figure to pay attention.
So he becomes a man with a plan and does not delay heading home anymore. The drive there seems endless, but it's all worth it the moment he opens the door and sees you standing by the kitchen counter, wearing the apron he gave you for Christmas
One second he's by the door, the next he's smashing his lips against yours, a small sigh of pleasure leaving him as he relishes in the now-intense aroma of chocolate.
"Warn an old man next time, will ya?"
From that day on, he starts calling you "chocolate". The pet name raises a few eyebrows here and there, but none of you are bothered by it. Not when you could tease him about his newly-found sweet tooth and he could lose himself in your delicate kisses.
Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley - strawberries and cigarettes
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There are times when he becomes a heavy smoker, sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment and burning through a pack in one day while his mind is mulling over the previous or the next mission
In times like those, he has nothing against your presence, secretly enjoying when you lay his head atop his shoulder and hug him from behind, but he always refuses to kiss you afterwards, arguing that the acrid taste of cigarettes would gross you out
It definitely doesn't- it is an integral part of him that you'd come to accept and love- and now you couldn't live without it
Until one evening, you opt to sit across him, leaning your hands on the balcony railing, while your eyes wander over the city lights. Over the course of your relationship with Simon, you had grown used to his long bouts of silence, becoming accustomed to all of his telltale signs: his left eyebrow would twitch when he doesn't like something, his right foot would continuously tap against the ground when he is distressed.
Three cigarettes in, and his foot is reenacting Radetzky's March. He is utterly unaware of the amused glances you steal at him
"Something the matter, love?" you ask him in a sweet tone, trying to pull off your most innocent face.
"'s nothing", he begins hesitantly, his voice rough from not using it. "��just a little cold, I guess"
You have to turn your head away from him and back to the city, a satisfied smirk spreading on your face. Simon might have been the deadliest operator the Special Forces have had in a long time, but deep down he was also a touch-starved man who found solace and peace in your arms
When the foot tapping does not stop, you struggle to school your face into a neutral expression and turn towards him, your eyes melting at the sight of his dishevelled blonde hair and furrowed brow. He sheepishly looks up in your direction, a silent plea dancing in his chocolate eyes.
You stand and approach him slowly, stopping only when your faces are inches apart. His half-burnt cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray, the remnants of smoke in his breath fanning over your face.
His eyes hold a hundred unanswered questions: did he do something to upset you, did you grow sick of him, can he do anything to get you back; but they are all silenced when you lean in further, placing a gentle and intimate kiss on his lips
The unexpected gesture sends shivers of pleasure down his spine and he has to take a moment before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you back, the way you deserve to be kissed
You chuckle in his mouth before pecking both his eyes and forehead and returning to your original position, your head resting in the crook of his neck as your arms engulf him in a warm hug
He opens his mouth to scold you for kissing him when he is smoking. In his mind, it is almost like he is tainting your presence with the stale smell of smoked cigarettes. But as the words form on his lips, he hesitates, his mind struggling to acknowledge the foreign taste on his tongue
He turns to look at you with a confused look on his face. It was October so there could be no strawberries at the market and the freezer was empty as you had eaten all ice cream when you were on your period-
So why did he taste strawberries on your kiss?
"I may have found a lip gloss from high school", you eventually break the silence, blowing a huff of strawberry-scented air in his direction. "One I bought and swore to keep untouched until I found someone worth using it for!"
His thunderous laugh has you opening your mouth in shock. You could count on your fingers the number of times he'd laugh openly and without reserves
"Bloody hell, darling. You'll get me killed before smoking does! That thing must have been expired for years now!"
You shake your head in disbelief, faintly blushing at his words. You know he is teasing you, but that does not stop you from taking revenge as you start to plant messy pecks and kisses on his neck and cheeks. You eventually stop when your lips are once again inches apart from his, your breaths slowly mingling into a shared one
"Then I guess we are going down together"
Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish - cherries and chapped lips
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It all begins one cold morning when he leans in to kiss you goodbye before leaving for work
"Hold on! Johnny, you've got to do something about your chapped lips! You know what, let me get you a lip balm!"
He is quick to place a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyebrows are raised in disbelief and he has to do a double-take before words tumble out of his mouth
"Ain't no way I'm using such a thing, bonnie! Lip balms and such are made for wee lasses like you, not for demolition experts like me!"
You roll your eyes at his badly constructed argument and give him an unimpressed look when an idea pops into your mind.
"You stay right here, I'll be back in a jiffy!"
"What even is a jiffy?"
But you don't bother to answer as you head towards the bedroom, looking for the cherry-flavoured lip balm you bought specifically for the cold season. With precise movements, you apply a thick layer on your lips, smacking your lips to check if the cherry flavour is strong enough to linger. It fortunately is.
So you hurry into the hallway where Soap's waiting for you, hands on his hips as he angles his head in your direction. If he notices that your lips have just got shinier, he doesn't mention it
Instead, he leans in to properly kiss you goodbye this time, eyes comically widening when you deepen the kiss and make it last longer than usually
A small chuckle leaves his lips as you cup his cheeks in your hand and place a small kiss on the top of his nose
"How about we continue this when I come home?", he smiles at the ticklish sensation of your lips against his skin, the constant stinging of his own being forgotten for the moment
"Is that a promise, Sergeant?"
He has a hard time leaving home that day, the drive to the base being plagued by thoughts of you and how much you care for him. His lips have been chapped ever since spending the last two weeks on a mission that required him to be on constant watches in freezing temperatures. He eventually got used to it, the cracks and fissures becoming familiar from the countless times he dragged his tongue over lips, in a hopeless attempt to soothe the pain radiating from them
He does not realise that he is currently doing the same thing, his brain temporarily freezing as it detects a new, yet familiar aroma
Why do his lips taste like cherries?
He remains in the car, long after he's parked, his mind deep in thought as he runs his tongue over his lips once more, partially scared that he'll make the mysterious taste go away if he's too insistent. He does not see Ghost approaching his car from the back and actually flinches when he hears someone pounding on the window.
"D'you lock yourself in here, Johnny? The briefing's about to start in five and you haven't even geared up yet!"
"Bloody hell, you should really do something about your lips- they look like cracked desert earth or something…"
"Did not take you for a poet, L.T."
"Never said I was."
He is in the middle of the briefing when he figures out the source of the mystery taste. It all starts to make sense - the quick detour you had to take, the passionate kiss. He has to give it to you - you could do anything you put your mind to.
Because, besides the compelling taste, the chapstick you must have used started to have a soothing effect on his lips, the stinging becoming more bearable with every passing moment
He spends the rest of the day struggling to make the cherry flavour last longer, but it eventually fades out after he's forced to drink water. A small pout etches itself into his face and he starts to regret not listening to you.
The moment he comes home, he's in the bedroom, unscrewing the cap of every lip balm and smelling it before trying to place it back exactly as it was
You silently linger in the doorway, an amused smile creeping across your face as your fingers shift with the cherry-flavoured lip balm. Soap is so distracted by his covert operations task that he does not hear you trying to contain your chuckles.
"I believe you are looking for this?"
He is quick to snatch the small tube from your hands before bringing it closer to his nose and drawing a deep breath in. You shake your head in exasperation, a loud laugh escaping your lips as he clumsily tries to rub the chapstick across his lips.
"Love, you're doing it wrong! You might break it if you apply that much pressure!"
"Here, let me help you!"
Ends up insisting you order a batch just for him.
In just days, his lips go from cracked and fissured to soft and plump, perfect for the customary morning kiss
Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - vanilla and stained teeth
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Combat training is fun and games until you are paired up with someone like Ghost, Soap, or Gaz and get your ass handed to you
Lucky you, today Gaz is the person who slams your back on the hard mattress and pins your hands above your head, interlocking your feet with his
Your mind replays the steamy events of last night and you can't help but give him a suggestive smirk which is quickly followed by a toothy grin upon seeing the blush that spreads on his face
He shakes his head in disbelief, not letting go of your arms or feet. Instead, he leans forward, cocks his head and openly stares at you
"Darling, you've got lipstick on your teeth!"
You comically widen your eyes and try to bring your hands to your mouth, struggling to escape his firm grip, but to no avail.
"'m n't s'ppos'd to we'r lipstick 't w'rk", you try to mumble with your mouth closed while your tongue is running over your teeth, looking for any traces of lipstick.
"Ok, has it gone now?", you open your mouth and practically bar your teeth at him, frowning at his unreadable expression. "Gaz- you're scaring m-"
Before you finish your sentence, he smashes his lips against yours and it takes all you have not to whimper when you feel his tongue repeatedly swiping over your teeth
Once he breaks up the kiss, he makes a show of checking you up, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lips
"Yeah, I think I got it all…"
You roll your eyes at the shit-eating grin he's sporting as he runs his tongue over his lips and freezes, his jaw going slack
"Why am I tasting vanilla? Are you tasting vanilla?"
You try to give him an answer, but before being able to say a word, his lips are back on yours and he is kissing you hard and long, his hold remaining as firm as before
"Alright, lovebirds - go get a room before I cite you for public indecency!"
Upon hearing Captain Price, your combat instincts kick back in and you manage to push Gaz off of you, switching position, so that you are atop him, pinning him to the ground
"Sorry, Captain! We'll go back to training!", you call out to him, offering him an apologetic smile which he accepts with a subtle nod.
"Next time you wear that lipstick, let a man know!"
"It screams you need someone to kiss it better"
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neowinestainedress · 2 years ago
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SECRET — lee jeno
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𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)
𝐖𝐂: 10.202k
𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!
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Jeno has a secret.
Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.
It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.
It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.
Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.
Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.
And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.
But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.
And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.
So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.
Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.
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Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.
Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.
But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.
Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.
And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.
You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.
Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.
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You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.
But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.
Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.   
You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.
You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.
But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.
You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.
Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?
But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.
And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.
“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.
He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?
You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”
“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”
“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.
“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.
“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”
“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.
You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”
“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”
You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”
“All?”
“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.  
Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.
“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”
“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?
“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.
Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.
“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.
But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.
“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.
But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.
You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.
You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.
“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”
He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”
You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”
He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.
“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”
His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”
You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”
Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?
You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.
Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”
You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”
“But I —”
“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”
“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.
“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”
That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.
“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.
You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.
Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”
He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.
“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”
“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.
“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”
Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.
You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.
“Words.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.
“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.
You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.
You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.
Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.
You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”
Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”
“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.
He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”
You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.
“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.
Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.
“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”
It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.
“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.
“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.
“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.
Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.
He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.
Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.
After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.
“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.
“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.
“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”
And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.
It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.
“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.
“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.
Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.
“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”
You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.
“Was it good?”
Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”
You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”
“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.
“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.
He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.
“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”
Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.
“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”
He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”
“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.
“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.
“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.  
“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.
“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”
You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”
“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.
“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.  
He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”
“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.
“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”
“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”
“No, miss, I’m sorry.”
“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”
Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”
“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”
You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.
“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”
“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?
You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.
“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.
Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.
“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.
“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”
You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.
He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.
“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”
“But —”
“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”
“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.
“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.
“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”
“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.
His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.
“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.
You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.
“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.
“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”
It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.
“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”
You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.
“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.
You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.
“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”
“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.
Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”
You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”
“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”
It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.
“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.
Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.
“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.
“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.
“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.
“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.
“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”
Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.
“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”
“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.  
“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”
“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.
Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”
Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.
“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.
But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.
“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.
You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”
Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”
“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.
“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”
“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”
You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.
His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.
Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.
“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”
He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.
It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.
“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.
“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”
He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.
“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”
He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.
“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”
His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”
“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.
“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.
“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.
“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.
“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.
“Please, please, please, ma’am.”
“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”
When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.
Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.
“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.
“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”
“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.  
“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.
Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.
And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.
And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.  
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When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.
Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.
“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”
Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.
“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”
“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.
“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”
He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.
You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.
Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.
“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”
You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”
“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”
You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. “I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.
“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”  
Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”
You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”
He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”
“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”
Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.
“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.
When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.
“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”
“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”
Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.
“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”
Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @rbf-aceu ; @shiningnono ; @jaeminsbebu | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo
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allthesmutl0vers · 7 months ago
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Dating Fred and George Weasley Headcanons
MDNI, 18+, NSFW
Masterlist Requests/Asks: OPEN (please read) Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader x George Weasley Request: Not a request just wanted to write to fight writer's block. TW: Sexual Situations, Kinks, Some Fluff, Pseudo-Twincest A/N: I feel like I ate with this, tbh. Been working on it for two mf days. 😮‍💨💞 I hope you enjoy! Comment here if you want to be added to the tag list for any/all HP content.
Please feel free to let me know how you feel about this. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. ✨💞
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How you got together:
You had been friends with them forever, but you never expected them to have the same feelings towards you as you did for them. None of you were willing to admit it until it was called out by Ginny and her loud ass mouth when she told you guys to 'just fucking kiss already, for Merlin's sake.'
They had just finished a match against Slytherin and won, of course, so their adrenaline was already flooding. You had opened your mouth to fire back at Ginny with some sarcastic ass comment when Fred grabbed your face and smashed his lips to yours, stealing the breath right out of your lungs.
When Fred finally pulled back, your head was in a daze, and before you could suck in a breath, George grabbed you by your waist, dipped you, and kissed you with the same passionate intensity.
After that, everything else was history, and the only thought any of you could form was, 'Why didn't we do this sooner?'
Fred
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Song that best describes your relationship with Fred:
Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship (Iykyk)
Nicknames he has for you:
Darling: His go-to nickname, he uses it all of the time.
Love: Uses this one when he is being extra lovey, or giving you presents.
Sweetheart: (this one is for when you're in trouble and he wants you to know it)
Kinks:
Biting: Fred loves to bite you while he's fucking you. Leaving trails of bite marks all over your neck and going down your collarbones and, especially, between your thighs when he's eating you out. Though he never breaks the skin, he does bite hard enough to bruise. Fred's biggest turn-on is the sounds that leave your lips when he bites down hard and then licks and kisses the same spot, melting pain with pleasure until you can't tell the difference.
Bit of an exhibitionist: Nothing revs Fred up more than the risk of getting caught, especially if it's George walking in when he has you bent over, face down, ass up. He knows you're with George, too, but it's not necessarily about who catches you two in the act. It's about simply being caught.
"Looks like we've been caught, darling," he taunts with a dark chuckle and pulls your head back by your hair to make you look at George while he pile drives into you from behind. "Show Georgie how good I make you feel. Come on, let him hear how I make you scream."
Begging: Hearing you beg, 'Just fuck me already,' almost makes him break and do it. His response? Shoving his cock down your throat, all the while taunting you with little phrases like, 'What was that, darling? Didn't quite catch that,' or 'But you look so good, down on your knees begging for me.' He will definitely give you what you want, but only after tears are running down your cheeks as your need becomes almost too much to bear. Almost. He's not a complete sadist, after all.
Honorable Mentions:
Hair Pulling I mean, need I say more?
Teasing at the MOST inappropriate times, family dinner? Ha, his fingers are right at the apex of your thighs, silently challenging you to keep your facial expressions schooled.
Breeding Kink: You think he doesn't fantasize about filling you up so fucking full with cum, that it's only thanks to your birth control you haven't gotten pregnant yet? That's fucking adorable.
Favorite Positions:
Face down, ass up: What's not to love? It's the perfect position for Fred to slam into you at the brutal pace that leaves you cock-drunk. Perfect for him to either hold your hips still or slam you back onto his cock to match his pace, all the while leaving perfect little fingertip bruises on your hips. Even better is when he pulls you back, flush to his chest, a large hand holding just under your chin, supporting your weight while he leaves a trail of bite marks down your neck and shoulders while you whimper and plead for mercy, not that you actually want it, he just loves to hear you beg.
Against a wall: Being the exhibitionist he is, Fred will fuck you any and everywhere. An empty classroom, a broom closet, the locker room after an intense quidditch match, win or lose, he doesn't care. So long as he gets you. But there is just something about holding you up with your legs wrapped around him, back pinned to the wall (or a locker), that makes Fred fucking feral. The way he can watch your pupils blow with arousal, your lips part and quiver as your orgasm crashes into you like a fucking freight train, the way you tug on his hair as if you're trying to keep some semblance of grounding as you feel your soul leave your body. Fuck, he's sure he's never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life.
Spit roasting: When you're on all fours on the bed (or anywhere, really), and he pounds into you while you suck off George. Fucking you so hard it forces you to take more of George down your throat. What are brothers for? He's not sexually attracted to George, but there's nothing like watching you take his other half while he slams into you. Both of them work in a delicious and synchronized rhythm, filling you up so full that you might just burst, will burst. Body trembling while George offers you sweet praise and Fred reaches around your body, rubbing tight and fast circles over your clit; all the while, they drag you further and further down to hell or up to heaven. Is there even a difference anymore?
Random Head Canons:
Fred is more possessive, not so much that you're not allowed to have friends of the opposite sex. He knows full well he can trust you to tell him if someone makes you uncomfortable. He knows damn well you're not going to be fucking around with anyone else, given how fucking incredible he and George make you feel. Possessive in the aspect that he will brutally, if not mercilessly, prank anyone who so much as looks at you in any way that isn't platonic.
When you chastise him for these methods, he stops because you are bloody terrifying when you're truly angry. He switches to pulling you onto his lap or brushing your hair over your shoulder in front of them to reveal the litter of bite marks he made or the hickies that George made all over your neck, all with the cockiest fucking smirk on his face.
Fred's Ideal Date: While he loves being buried deep inside of you, he loves treating you to an adventure. His favorite? Walking into the forbidden forest, finding the perfect place to swim (he found the best swimming hole with a ledge to jump off of.) In the warmer months, he'll pack a lunch and take you here, loving the adrenaline rush of jumping and diving off of the small cliff ledge. Swimming behind the waterfall and exploring the caves inside with you. In the colder months, he will challenge you to a snowball fight in the courtyard, George is allowed, too, of course, but one of them will always be on your side against the other. Otherwise it's not really fair, is it?
George
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Song that best describes your relationship with George:
Ride - SoMo
Nicknames he has for you:
Baby/Baby girl: Uses this as a placement for your name.
Little One: Uses this when he's teasing you; typically whispers it in your ear when his hands are around your waist. Or when he is watching Fred fuck you before he steps in and joins.
Mine/Ours: Uses this one the most in the bedroom when either he or both of them are fucking you.
Kinks:
Hickies: While Fred loves biting, George is a little more gentle. Note that I said a little. He'll fuck you like a whore in church, but he prefers to drag out the pleasure by sucking the soft skin right behind your ear all the way down your body down to your clit, right to his favorite part on your body, which brings me to my next point-
Eating you out: Holy. Fucking. Shit. If this was an Olympic sport, George would take the gold every single fucking time. Sure, Fred knows how to send you over the edge, but George takes his time. Licking and sucking your clit with slow, purposeful movements, drawing out sounds from your throat that sound inhuman. The way his fingers curl just fucking right inside of you, thrusting against that spongy spot inside of you, scissoring them to spread your walls and thrust his tongue in and out. Seriously, this man would live between your thighs if he could. Sending you over the edge again and again with just his devilish fucking tongue and fingers, he gets off on that shit, literally. This man has cum simply from eating you out before.
Edging: Remember how I said George is 'a little more gentle'? This is what I meant by that. George's favorite hobby when he's buried deep inside of you is bringing you right up to the edge, then pulling out, leaving you feeling empty as your walls clamp around nothing. You whine, and you whimper, and suddenly, he thrusts into you with a snap of his hips. Only to do it all over again.
"You want me to fill you up, baby? Is that what you want?" He teases as he only pushes his tip inside. You try to rock against him, to take him in deeper to satisfy the craving inside of you. "Hmm, I'm not sure you deserve it," he taunts as his thumb lands on your clit. Just as you open your mouth to beg, his hand grips your throat, and he slams into you so hard you see stars, his cock buried so deep that you swear you can feel him in your guts as he finally lets you cum with an Earth-shattering cry around him.
Honorable Mentions:
Choking: Because you know what would make you even more beautiful? A hand necklace. His, to be specific.
Bit of a voyeur: He loves watching you get pounded hard and fast when he typically fucks you hard and slow. The way your face contorts slightly differently when Fred is fucking you amuses him like no other.
Breeding Kink to the fucking MAX: He wants your pussy flooded with cum, if some spills out? No big deal, he'll fuck it right back into you. And after you finish school? Yeah, that shit is going into the fucking trash. (But you have no arguments, tbh.)
Favorite Positions:
Riding him: Guiding your hips, thrusting up into you as your hands rest on his chest to hold yourself up. Sure, George is dominant. But that doesn't love to see the look on your face above him as you come apart, over and over again, until you're a sweaty, shaky mess. George doesn't mind reverse- cowgirl, but he'd much rather see your face as his hand wraps around your throat just hard enough to make you dizzy as he tosses you over the edge, following right behind you.
Missionary (hear me out): Who says missionary is boring? Not you. Sure, nothing beats a bed, but George prefers you laid out across his desk. Or with your legs thrown over his shoulders, ass hanging over the bed as he stands and pounds into you. His thrusts are slow and firm, sliding into the hilt and then grinding against your core, making damned sure to draw out every last moan your body can produce.
Between him and Fred: George is not biased when it comes to fucking you in your ass or your pussy, if he's honest. So long as you're on your knees on the bed, while he's in either hole while Fred is in the other, both slamming into you with an animalistic ferocity. Filling you up so full with their cum that it'll be dripping out of you for days.
Random Head Canons:
George LOVES it when people stare/flirt with you. It drives Fred up the fucking wall when George doesn't try to brutally prank or show off just how much you're theirs. But it gets George off when guys try to flirt with you only to have a drink thrown at them, or you simply laugh at them before pointing out him and Fred. While Fred's anger is palpable, George just winks at you with a shit-eating grin on his face. Maybe it's the voyeur in him, but he loves watching you interact with people, male or female, because he knows you're not going anywhere except right back to him and Fred.
George's Ideal Date: George loves to fly with you on his broom, you in front of him as he grips the broom between your thighs. His favorite time to do it is at night, flying up so high you swear you can almost touch the stars as you soar over the clouds. You know this is what you two are doing when he bundles you up in one or maybe two of his sweaters. Because Merlin forbid you get cold. If it's too cold to fly or it's snowing, he loves to take a walk to Hogsmeade and share a butterbeer. So long as he's spending time with you, he couldn't be happier.
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I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it. Please don't forget to reblog and comment! ✨✨🤞🏻😇
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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago
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And The Law Won
Yandere Police Officer x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Imminent noncon, coerced oral sex, cum swallowing, handcuffing, kidnapping, chloroforming, general yandere behavior, abuse of power, DILF) Word Count: 754 (Drabble that became a minific, deleted due to typo that had already been reblogged a lot. Hope you all enjoy)
It all started when you were driving home late one night. You had been held up at work and all of the roads were pretty clear at this hour, you hadn’t encountered even a single car on the road the entire time. So you didn’t really see much harm in running a red light or two. But almost immediately after you had, even at 3 in the am a police car was on your tail, seemingly materializing out of nowhere. You pulled over and waited for the inevitable ticket. This was just great. You were already so behind on bills and the tickets were ridiculous. You sighed in defeat as you rolled down your window while thinking to yourself that you would never financially recover from this. The officer approached your window, a tall and fairly muscular looking older gentleman. He was a grizzled bear of a man who appeared to be in his mid 40s. His voice was deep and authoritative. “I am Hewlett, the chief of police. Do you know why I pulled you over?” “I ran a red light…” You said meekly, unable to meet the intense gaze of his eyes. “You ran two red lights,” he corrected harshly. He could see you look even farther away in embarrassment and shame, you clearly dreaded the ticket that was about to come your way and would probably go pretty far to avoid it. Times were hard. And he had gotten pretty good at telling how far an individual would go to avoid a hefty fine. “I am afraid I am going to have to write you two tickets.” You were fucked, you could never afford two separate tickets! He smirked. “Or…” He started. And before you knew it he was on the other side of the vehicle, where your car would shield him from any potential passersby, with you sitting in the passenger seat. Your head bobbing back and forth on his cock. Now you knew why the Chief of Police, someone of such a high rank, was doing traffic stops at an out of the way light. He ran his strong calloused hands through your hair as you dutifully blew him. The warmth felt amazing. You were pretty good at this. Your jaw hurt, but it was worth it to avoid two tickets. Something about you made his heart beat faster. Maybe it was the way you looked up at him intermittently to read his face to tell if you were pleasing him, maybe it was just the way you carried yourself, or just how obedient you were and how easily you melted to his desire. Whatever it was didn’t matter really, he just knew he needed more of you. His balls tensed and his cock throbbed, suddenly your mouth was full of his cum. He held both sides of your head and spoke one more command. “Swallow.” You did without hesitation, even though the lingering flavor made you feel dirty. Even after you got home and washed your mouth out twice over. The next time you drove home you made sure to take a new route. Even though it was 15min. longer. But it wouldn’t help you now. Hewlett had your license plate info. A few nights later, when you were watching some youtube videos to relax after work, you heard a sudden crash at your window. You went to investigate, thinking maybe the neighbor’s cat had knocked over another one of your terracotta flower pots. Your window was smashed open. You turned around to rush out the door. At best there was a vandal in your neighborhood, at worst someone had broken in. It was the latter. As you ran you smacked right into Hewlett, his all black attire barely visible in the shadows. He grabbed you and pressed a rag to your face. You were out cold quickly. When you woke up your head was killing you and your thoughts were fuzzy. It took a good few minutes to completely be aware of what was happening to you. You were handcuffed to a bed in a room that looked like it had been sound proofed. Hewlett stood over you grinning, grinding his lubed cock into your entrance as those rough hands of his rubbed your thighs. “Oh good, you’re awake. Now we can begin~” You struggled weakly against the cuffs. But it was no use. You thought you were fucked when you were about to receive two tickets, but no. Now you were truly about to be screwed.
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ninii-winchester · 10 months ago
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Only Girl
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Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader
Word count : 1.8k
Warnings: smut, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, spanking, language, age gap. MDNI NSFW
Part 2 to One of your girls
A/n : I wrote smut for the first time so go easy on me please.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
Still pressed against the wall outside the bar, Y/n whimpered waiting for Dean to make a move, Kiss her, touch her, just to do anything. Dean squeezed her hips once before pulling away. She turned around to look at him, her face turned into a small frown. Dean chuckled as he noticed her disappointment.
"As much I'd like to give everyone a show like you did, I'm not fucking you outside a bar for our first time together." Dean said dragging her towards the Impala. The drive back to the motel was quick and the she didn't waste anytime walking inside. Dean slowly followed behind her.
Y/n started walking towards their room but stopped when she saw Dean stopping at the counter, "Room's this way, Dean." She pointed her finger to the hallway. He looked at her but didn't respond, instead he clicked his tongue and turned back to the clerk. She watched him put his credit card on the counter, getting another keycard. Dean took his time walking them to their new room and it was making her go crazy. She wanted him bad, she needed him to fuck her into next week but his unhurried and slow moves were driving her nuts.
He opened the room and let her walk in first, her heart was beating loudly in her chest, anticipation getting the best of her. The moment he stepped inside the room his lips were on hers. Fucking finally. She desperately kissed back, grabbing the back of his head pulling him closer. She let out whine when he pulled apart.
"So needy." He tsked gripping her waist.
"Dean please." She whispered batting her lashes at him. He smashed his lips to hers again, his hands moving down to grab her ass. A moan escaped her lips as he landed a slap on her left ass cheek. He let his tongue graze hers, moving in perfect synchronisation. He picked her up and slammed her back into the door, not breaking the kiss.
"Fuck." He pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. "Do you really want this?" He questioned in all seriousness, if she wants to stop better now because he knows if he went any further he won't be able to. She nodded her head. "Words, baby."
"Yes Dean, fuck me." Dean groaned when he heard her say that. "Hard." She added and Dean's eyes darkened. He put her back on her feet.
"You have a safe word, sweet girl?" He asked in his deep voice. Y/n could feel her pussy clenching around nothing and clit throbbing.
"Cherry." She replied. Dean nodded before pulling away completely. He walked backwards and she took a step but he stopped her.
"Didn't ask you to move, did I?" He questioned sitting on the edge of the bed and she shook her head, taking a step back. "Now strip, and crawl to me." Whatever self respect she had left, after the bar stunt she pulled, went flying out of the window as soon as those words left his mouth. She worked fast to get off every piece of clothing off her body, once she was completely naked she dropped to knees and crawled towards Dean. She stopped right in front of him, he gave her an approving look. "Good girl." He said grabbing the back of her hair. "You're such a slut for cock aren't you, pretty girl." He pulled her body up so she was sat up straight.
"Only for you cock Dean. I want it so bad." She whimpered, feeling an ache in her throbbing cunt.
"I know sweetheart, isn't that why you acted like a whore in front everyone." Dean taunted unbuckling his belt. He grabbed both of her hands and tied them behind her back using the belt. He unzipped his pants, pulling them down to his thighs, he pulled out his hard dick from the confines of his boxers, Y/n licked her lips watching the pre cum oozing out of the tip. "Now suck like the cockslut you are." She didn't waste a second before wrapping her lips around the tip, sucking it like her favourite candy. Dean threw his head back as she swiped her tongue on underside of his shaft, she then took the whole length inside her mouth, deep throating him, "God fuck baby." He snapped his hips, fucking her mouth, Dean sucked in a breath as she choked on his dick, breathing through her nose. He pulled her hair harshly. "Fuck, that mouth feels like heaven."
She continued licking and sucking, hollowing her cheeks intent on making him cum but Dean had other plans. He grabbed her head to pull her off him but she tightened her lips on his cock, he yanked her off harshly, a string of saliva drooled down her chin. He glared at her.  "You're fucking insatiable." He pulled her to straddle his thigh, he could feel her juices coating his bare thigh. His knuckles brushed against her clit and she gasped. "So fucking wet, just from sucking my cock."
"I've been a good girl haven't I? Make me cum please." Y/n whined. She was getting impatient, she needed her release now, without a thought she started grinding her pussy against his thigh.
"You've been good, go on fucking rut against my thigh, make yourself cum." Dean leaned back on his arms watching her struggle to move on his thigh with her hands bound. Tears of frustration pooled in her eyes and she let out a loud whimper.
"Dean please, need to touch you, I wanna cum on your cock." She cried and he grabbed her face kissing her, at was all teeth and tongue clashing, his hand left her face and moved behind her to undo the belt. As soon her hands were unbound she pulled at his shirt, borderline close to ripping it off. Dean flipped her, so laid on the bed. She moved a bit up and laid her head on the pillows. Dean kicked his jeans and boxers and joined her on the bed.
Dean spread her legs open revealing her glistening pussy. "Look at that, such a pretty pussy." He dragged his fingers over her folds making her clutch the sheets tightly. He didn't waste another second before latching his lips onto her clit, sucking harshly. He then shoved his tongue inside her. "Fuck tastes so good." He groaned into her pussy. "I could stay here forever." Y/n grabbed the back of his head and pushed it to her core. She locked her legs on his shoulder keeping him in place.
"Oh God yea, fuck don't stop." She yelled as Dean continued lapping on her juices. "Yes baby, I'm so close."
"That's it baby, say my name." He groaned, pushing two fingers knuckles deep inside her cunt. And she screamed his name, loudly. "Let everyone know who's making you feel so good." He moaned against her clit, scissoring his fingers inside her, hitting her sensitive spot that made her see stars. "Cum for me, sweetheart." And she did. Hard. she felt her whole body shake as her orgasm came crashing. She panted heavily, Dean continued to suck on her clit making her push at his shoulders slightly but he didn't move, he went on relentlessly, overstimulating her. "Dean fuck." He felt her clench around his fingers again, indicating her approaching orgasm. Dean chuckled darkly before he abruptly pulled away.
"Dean what the fuck." She looked down at him.
"I'm still in charge, hot stuff. You cum when I say you cum." Dean smacked her ass sitting up. He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her closer to himself, settling between her legs. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around her right nipple, his tongue circling the hardened nub while one of his hands groped her left tit. She reached down between their bodies and grabbing his cock, rubbing the tip over her folds. Dean slapped her tit harshly, "such a whore." he said pulling away from her nipple. "You just can't live without cock, can ya?" Before she could answer he gripped her hips tightly and slammed his cock inside her cunt making her back arch from the bed. He didn't let adjust before pulling out and shoving it back in.
"Oh Dean yes fuck me." She bit her bottom lip as he continued to fuck her at a harsh pace, he pushed her legs over his shoulders, hitting her deep from the new angle.
"Look at that tight little cunt taking me so well." She heard Dean groan above her, his gaze locked on where their bodies meet. Her walls clenched around his length, he continued thrusting, hitting her g-spot. He smacked her ass multiple times, "You're squeezing my cock so hard, you like being spanked, little slut." He landed a few more slaps to her ass, "Is this what you wanted?" He wrapped his hand around her throat, "Putting up a show at the bar, begging for my cock, little slut couldn't even wait for me to get another room. You wanted me to fuck you in that room when Sammy could walk in on us huh? Such a whore aren't ya.?"
"Yes yes fuck I'm a whore for you cock. I'm your cockslut, fill me up, fuck i want it so bad."  She begged reaching down and rubbing her own clit. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpered, "please I can't hold it." She waited for him to give her permission to cum but he took his sweet time.
"Hold it baby, I'm right behind ya." Dean choked out, his thrusts faltering, a telltale sign he's close. "Cum. Fucking cum on my cock." He growled squeezing her throat slightly as he spilled his seed inside her. The coil in her stomach snapped and she let go, spilling her juices all over his cock. He stilled inside her, both of them panting heavily, coming down from their highs. He pulled out of her slowly, she winched slightly suddenly feeling empty. "You okay?" Dean asked looking over at her.
"Yeah." She replied smiling at him.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked gently and Y/n could feel her heart burst at his softness. As much as she liked him manhandling her, she was loving his softer side.
"Nope, not at all." She replied honestly.
"Okay." He pecked her lips "I'll be back in a second." He went to the bathroom and came out a washcloth. He joined her bed after he helped her clean up. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her closer to his chest.
"Dean." She called out his name softly, "this changes every thing you know that, right?" She whispered lowly.
"Yeah I know but this isn't going to be a one time thing and we'll talk about this tomorrow I promise. You need to rest okay?" Dean replied kissing the top of her head.
"Okay." In the soft after glow, he held her close, peacefully falling asleep in each other's arms.
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kaleldobrev · 1 year ago
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Possessive
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader
Summary: Ben is highly against when other men hit on you
Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | HEYYY THERE. First of all- I love your work so freaking much. Second of all- if you’re still accepting requests I was wondering if I could ask for a soldier boy x reader where they’re out at a bar and some creepy guys hits on her?? Basically how Ben would react and everything. THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE <333
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Cursing (21x) & Possessive!Ben
Authors Note: I re-wrote this I think like a handful of times cause I honestly wasn’t happy with it. But now I am finally happy with it | I really hope you guys liked the way this turned out | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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“So tell me why you fucking dragged me here again?” Ben asked, walking very close behind you that he might as well be attached to your back.
“Hughie’s birthday,” you reminded him.
“Remind me again why he invited me?” Ben asked. “Because we aren’t really buddy-buddy babe.”
“Because believe it or not, he doesn’t hate you,” you said. “Besides, even if he didn’t invite you, I would have dragged you here anyway cause he said I could bring a plus one. And you my guy, are my plus one.”
He rolled his eyes. “I seriously do not want to fucking be here. I have other things I could be doing than hanging out with your friends.”
You turned to him, cocking a brow. “Like what? Smashing bennies on our kitchen counter while you watch re-runs of M*A*S*H?”
He furrowed his brow, hating that you knew him all too well. “Fuck you,” was how he chose to respond.
“Fuck you too,” you smirked. “Now let’s go grandpa,” you said, taking his hand in yours and making your way to the back table where your friends probably already were.
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“Y/N!” Hughie exclaimed, holding a beer in his hand. “You made it!”
“Of course I did,” you smiled; him and you exchanging hug. “I wouldn’t miss actually seeing Butcher let loose,” you winked.
“You’ve seen it plenty of times luv,” he said, picking up a shot of vodka.
“Yeah but, that was when strictly murder was involved,” you clarified. He shrugged his shoulders in response, knocking back the shot.
“Hey. I’m shocked you actually came,” Hughie said, gesturing toward Ben.
“She dr—” he started to say, but changed his mind when he saw you, looking at him with the biggest ‘do not piss me off’ look. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”
“So, what’s everyone drinking?” You asked.
“White claw as usual for me. But we have beer and vodka shots too,” Annie replied, gesturing around the table as your eyes followed the drinks.
“Anyone in the mood for some rum?” You asked. “Kinda in the mood for a rum and coke myself.”
“You’re always in the mood for rum and coke,” Ben mumbled. “Rum and my coc—” He mumbled again, but you quickly cut him off, not wanting him to finish his sentence.
“Okay!” You clapped. “I’m gonna go get some rum and coke. Ben, you wanna come with me?” You asked, turning in his direction.
Ben weighed his options: he could either sit at this table making small talk with your friends that he had nothing in common with, or he could go with you to the bar and maybe have the chance to convince you to have a quickie in the bathroom. “I’ll come with you.”
“Perfect!” You clapped again, aggressively taking his hand as the two of you started making your way toward the bar.
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As soon as you and Ben were out of ear and eyeshot, Annie was the first one to break the silence. “So, what’s going on with them? Because whenever I bring up their relationship she always changes the subject.”
“They aren’t in a relationship,” Butcher clarified. “Not a real one anyway.”
“I mean, friends with benefits is kind of a relationship,” Annie said. “I mean, it’s not like the two of them don’t have feelings for each other ya know?”
“How do you figure?” Butcher asked.
“You don’t see the way the two of them look at each other? Those are more than ‘I only fuck you cause you’re convenient eyes’,” she explained.
“He doesn’t love her. Dont think the cunt is even capable of love,” Butcher replied, taking another shot of vodka.
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“Did you actually want rum and coke or did you just want us to have some alone time?” He smirked. “Come and cock if you will.”
“Why does everything that comes out of your mouth sound disgusting?” You asked, not nearly as disgusted as you were over a year ago when you had first met him. Because you had been around him for as long as you have, you had basically become desensitized to basically everything he had said or did. Him walking around naked? Just an average Tuesday. Him snorting coke while you make pasta? Just an average Friday.
“I thought you liked the things that came out of my mouth,” he winked.
“We are not doing this right now,” you warned him.
“I mean we could. Your heart is beatin’ rather fast right now. And your cheeks are turning that pinkish color they usually get whenever you wanna jump me,” he smirked.
“Either go and sit down or stay quiet. Cause I don’t need these random people in this bar to know about our sex life,” you whispered yelled.
“Where’s your sense of adventure Sweetheart?” He smirked again, starting to tug on your empty belt loop on your jeans.
“Ben,” you whispered through gritted teeth.
“What?” He asked, whispering in your ear. “It’s not like anyone’s paying attention to us. This bar is fucking crowded.” He pulled you close, and kissed your neck; which caused you to let you a tiny moan. “There she is,” he smirked against your skin.
“Okay. I need you to go sit down,” you said, Ben still very much kissing your neck.
“You really want me to go and do that when we can go into the bathroom and have a good and quick fuck?” He whispered.
His offer was tempting, more tempting than you would have liked to admit. But you had to restrain yourself, at least right now — because you didn’t want to get fucked in a dirty bar bathroom. “Ben,” your voice stern.
He knew that voice all too well, and he immediately stopped what he was doing. “Fine,” his voice annoyed. “Gonna go sit by your friends.”
“Ben, you can still stand here. Just keep your hands to yourself,” you told him, but he was already half way across the room. “Fucking child,” you whispered, full well knowing that he would still be able to hear you.
“Pain in my fucking ass,” he mumbled to himself.
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“They’re been over there a long time,” Hughie said, trying to see over the sea of people. “Oh wait! Here they come.” But instead of you and Ben coming back toward the table, it was just Ben; and everyone looked at him with slight confusion. “Where’s Y/N?”
“Getting her rum and coke. Weren’t you paying attention?” Ben slightly snapped.
“Jesus,” Hughie mumbled.
“I think what he means is, I thought you were getting one with her,” Annie said.
“Trouble in paradise?” Butcher asked slightly smirking; holding up a shot of vodka for Ben to take. Ben just rolled his eyes and took the shot. “That’s what I thought.”
“Can someone fucking move so I can sit the fuck down?” Ben asked, his voice full of annoyance.
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As you waited at the bar for yours and Ben’s drinks, you tapped your fingers along to the music that was playing even though it was very muffled sounding due to the immense crowd in the bar tonight. “Hey little lady,” you heard a male voice say, but you ignored it, thinking that he was probably talking to the girl next to you. But then you felt an aggressive tapping on your shoulders. For a split second you thought that maybe it was Ben, but you knew he would never do something like that to you.
When you turned around, a man about a few inches taller than you stood in front of you. “You talking to me?” You asked.
He scoffed. “Yeah, who else would I be talking to pretty lady?” His words made you shudder. “Cold?”
“Uh yeah…I uh…I run a little cold,” you lied. Fuck, he noticed the shuddering, you thought.
“You can borrow my jacket,” he said, starting to take off a leather jacket that reeked of menthol and cheap whiskey.
“No I’m good, thanks though,” you said, trying your best to be nice. “Besides, I’d never see you again, so you would never get your jacket back.”
“See, I fully intend on seeing you Sweetheart,” he said. “In more ways than one,” he winked. Again, you felt your body shudder. “Are you sure you don’t want my jacket? It’s honestly really fucking hot. Kinda like you.”
Oh sweet baby Jesus, you thought. “I’m good honestly. And plus, I’m sure my friends have a jacket I can borrow.”
“Your friends uh?” He cocked a brow. “They as hot as you?” You honestly didn’t know how to answer that, so you just stood there a little dumbfounded. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you my number and we can meet up later for a little party.”
“I don’t thin—” you started to answer.
“And before you say no. I’m sure you would love it, it’s a sex party. Like uh, that Herogasm. Ever been to Herogasm?” He asked.
Of course you’ve been to Herogasm; but it wasn’t for pleasure on any account (as that kind of thing wasn’t remotely your thing). You were strictly there to make sure things didn’t go more south than they already did. “That’s not really my —”
“I really think you’d enjoy it,” he said. “The guy who created it must of been such a freak.” You have no idea, you wanted to say.
“Soldier Boy,” you said, and the man looked at you with slight confusion, furrowing his brow. “Created it…Hero…gasm…”
“Oh shit he did! Man, that guy is a fucking legend,” the man said. “Hey, you think he would still be going to those if he didn’t get killed in that nuclear thing in Ohio back in the eighties?”
“I honestly wouldn’t know,” you said, starting to actually get embarrassed.
“Anyway, enough about that guy. Have you ever had a threesome?” He asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“Hey Sugar,” you heard Ben say from behind you.
“Get in line pal,” the guy said. “She’s with me.”
Ben raised a brow out of amusement. “Oh she is, is she?”
“Yeah and—hey, has anyone ever told you that you kinda look like Soldier Boy? Man, he was my favorite,” the man said. If Ben’s ego couldn’t get any higher…
“He gets that a lot,” you chimed in.
“Shit, you two know each other?” The man said, looking back and forth between you and Ben.
“Yeah,” Ben said. “We’re real familiar with each other. So why don’t you scam before I break your nose for hitting on my girlfriend here?”
The man couldn’t help himself but scoff. “Girlfriend? Dude, you wish.” Oh no.
“Excuse me?” Ben asked. “I don’t think I heard you quite right.”
“Of course you didn’t, cause you’re an old, fucking —”
Ben’s hands went into fists, and you felt him start to push past you, but you stopped him by pressing a firm hand on his chest, which was starting to get unbelievably hot. “Let’s go sit down. Annie just texted me asking me where we are.”
The drinks that the bartender made you and Ben got slid toward you, and you picked them up, attempting to hand a glass for him to hold to replace one of his fists. “Don’t wanna worry her now would we?” Ben said, his voice still full of anger, but it was attempting to sound calm.
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“You’re pissed at me aren’t you?” Ben asked, as the two of you started making your way toward the table.
“Why do you think I’m pissed at you?” You questioned.
“Because I didn’t let you handle that yourself,” he answered. “I know you’re all about feminism or whatever, but I didn’t like the way he was talking to you.”
“I admit what you did was slightly more alpha than I would have liked but, I’m not remotely pissed at you,” you told him. “It was kinda…hot actually,” you confessed. “I’m just more intrigued by the choice of words you used.”
“What words?” He raised a brow, the two of you stopping in your tracks mere feet away from the table.
“The fact that you called me your girlfriend,” you said. “You could have just said friend, but you choose to use the word girlfriend.”
“Jesus Christ,” he rolled his eyes. “We are not having this conversation now.”
“But you can grope me in a crowded bar?” You asked, cocking your head.
“That’s different,” he said.
“H-okay, I’m not gonna touch that. But seriously? I think we should really talk about this at some point because you’ve been doing that a lot lately,” you said.
“Doing what?” It was his turn to cock his head, and look at you with slight confusion.
“Calling me your girlfriend,” you stated.
He rolled his eyes again. “Tell me one time before this time that I called you my girlfriend.”
“Literally yesterday,” you responded all too quickly.
“Because some creep was hitting on you. To be fair, you call me your boyfriend,” he said, trying to turn this conversation in his favor somehow.
“I have never once called you my boyfriend,” you stated.
“You did. Yesterday when you were on the phone with your mom,” he told you.
“A conversation that I told you not to listen in on might I add,” you retorted.
“Okay, that’s besides the point. Point is —”
“Look, I’m gonna make this simple. Do you want me to be your actual girlfriend or not?” You asked bluntly, cutting him off.
“What?” He asked, for some reason acting like he was confused.
"I'm tired of beating around the bush okay? We like fucking, we already live together, and we genuinely like spending time with each other. So, why not just make things official?" Ben knew that you had a point. "So, do you want to be my boyfriend or not?"
"Yes," he replied, sounding slightly annoyed.
"What?" You asked, sighing.
"I wanted to be the one to ask," he mumbled.
"Fucking Christ," you mumbled.
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