#also can reader rail me next | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iceunhie · 5 months ago

Text

— PUSH AND PULL : honkai star rail.

premise. as someone who's always believed in the term “try and try again,” (peak delusion, you know) rooting yourself in their heart has always been your goal, no matter the cold rejections and curt declines you receive. however, even you have your limits; perhaps this little push and pull you two have going isn't worth your time after all... but what happens then, if the chaser becomes the chased? (oh, how the turns have tabled.)

...or, when you play hard to get with them.

— ft. sunday, aventurine, jing yuan.

warnings: angst n fluff, messy messy, these boys are in love but are wayyy too chicken to admit they actually adore you, genderless reader.

a/n. inspired by @/xiaowhore's playing hard to get headcanons! my holy trinity 😇 n MY FAVES RAHHH

NEXT : BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX

SUNDAY is perplexed. very much aware of his qualities which enlists him as one of the finer (finest) bachelors of Penacony (he was the Robin's one and only blood, and was also the head of one of the main guiding forces of the Family, after all), sunday isn't sure he's ever come across someone as.... tenacious as you.

foolish, to be more precise, for he cannot for the life of him comprehend exactly why you are the way you are with... him.

no matter his respectful declines of your invitations to promenade around Penacony (re: going on dates), you really didn't know how to leave him be. though he hasn't exactly said he hated it, sunday was, admittedly, rather... affronted. your gifts, in particular, were your loud declarations of your affection (that make his wings flutter more rapidly than he'd like); but sunday was rather inconvenienced at the whole thing.

nonetheless, he does still accept them. reluctantly, mind you. not because he was fond of your constant shower of affections, which seemed so permanent that he began to look forward to them got used to it. to your credit, your gifts were very much to his tastes. (Robin once gave him a rather soul-searching look when he found himself wearing the gloves you gifted, light blue and white in color. he still uses it, just not when his sister is in the vicinity.)

in fact, perhaps he may have gotten too comfortable. little by little, your constant intrusions on his time have thawed a way to his heart; making sunday look forward to your jovial greetings and grandeur elaborations on your day, and such a thing makes him feel scared sunday needed to nip this in the bud, and fast.

so he confronts you, abruptly one day as you give him his newest gift—a jewelry box for his earrings. (surely, the rapid thumping of his heart was due to his irritation at your constant persistence, right?) “i'm afraid this can no longer continue. i am flattered by your... fancy for me, but i do not wish to enter a relationship in the near future.”

the utter silence that follows is torture to him—but he endures. he tries not to look at the momentary flash of hurt on your face. you seemed to quickly recover, though. giving him a simple smile (it didn't reach your eyes. it shocks him how his chest ached at the realization) and shaking your head when he returns the gift to you.

“i understand, mr. sunday.” the formal usage of his name instead of your chipper ‘sunday!’ makes his face twitch. “but please, keep the gift. think of this as my last declaration. it... would do me a great comfort, just this last time, if you accepted it instead.”

(if he had grabbed your hand at that moment as you left for the door, would he regret it?)

when you leave, sunday thought it would put the conflicting feelings in his mind at ease—but it doesn't. a week and two days counting, true to your word, sunday receives no flagrant gifts, nor little messages on his phone that tell him to take care of himself, to eat, and to make sure to remember to check up on Robin.

instead, contrary to the feeling of ease, regret follows him instead.

it's at two weeks and five days counting when sunday could no longer stand the sight of papers that stacked atop his desk and the image of you leaving for the door replaying in his head far too many times for him to count, that he contacts Robin.

and she, once hearing about the situation, gives him a very, very enlightening talk. (of course, not without giving her brother a lecture of the lifetime. part of him felt shame to know that his sister knew of his... turbulent love life, but she was the only one who he could trust, anyway).

“absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she says. “but in your case, brother, your heart has already decided it's course, right?”

sunday eyes the smooth velvet of the jewelry box you gifted, ruminating. his earrings lie there, carefully pristine and beautiful, gold and silver intertwined. he has worn them without fail, clean and spotless. (of course it was. such a design so intricate was only chosen by you. the thought makes his ears warm).

the next days are agonizing. vigor renewed and epiphanies well-spent, sunday spends the rest of his time after finishing his duties researching and painstakingly finding the best jeweller he can find (even employing the suggestions of a certain gambler, much to his dislike), and spending a god awful amount of time revisiting and rechecking which spots you like, which places you enjoy, to the point it comes up in Penacony's headlines that sunday is interested in someone.

surely, it should've reached your ears by now, yes? sunday panics. your preferences are well-accounted for, and he's sure the Bloodhound family members that report to him have to tell you that the person he had in mind was you. even Robin, who was your closest friend, has probably told you already.

it's embarrassing to admit, but; to hell with it, the day he meets you after three weeks and sees you having a pleasant chat with aventurine, of all people, sunday thinks his heart had shattered into little pieces and stabbed themselves into his body. not so much as sparing him a glance, moreso.

so when, finally at his wits end, sunday chooses to corner you at the dewlight pavilion and spills out how he has royally screwed up in the worst way possible, no one is surprised. at this rate, you would be swept up in the charms of that wretched gambler, and what sunday lacked in, aventurine more than made up for.

“wait, don't go to that gambler just yet.” he's breathless, he's chaotic—and something in his heart squeezes when you finally look at him. “i... i wish to take up your time now, if that's possible.” (he wishes he would take up your time forever, really, but that was still too early).

you eye his getup. all of your gifts, lined on the man you spent so long chasing after—you see the gloves you gifted, the tie with not so much as a single crease, and the earrings that shine more brightly in the light of the pavilion. (it suits him. like you) it was as if sunday had completely surrendered himself to you, had all but decided to proclaim that he was yours, and this was nothing short of a plea for you to hear him.

“please.” he says. almost begs. “i can't bear not seeing you anymore. allow me to correct such a damning mistake.”

and if you were skeptical, the way sunday looks at you would dispel any doubt you could ever have. (his wings, they were fluttering.)

(months later, after a nerve-ending confession, many days of dinners, shared gifts involving matching jewelry and promenading to your wishes, it dawns on sunday he was absolutely dancing to your tune. did he regret it, though?

....no, most certainly not.)

if AVENTURINE were to be honest with himself, he saw you as a useful “friend” rather than a romantic interest. was it bad of him? of a sort. but risk cutting himself open and letting someone he might grow to care for know about all the ugliness that follows his life? no, he's fine as it is, thanks.

the first thing he notices is that you're kind—though he distrusted most of his colleagues and preferred none to get close to him, aventurine, in some morbid moment of curiosity, instead allowed himself to bask in your attention. instead of curtly disparaging you, he flirts back at your compliments (the way your face heated up in return was far too endearing that he can't help but want to kiss you he finds it amusing) and consistently texts you a “did you get home safe” or a “i bought you this because it reminded me of you”; at this point, it was like you two were dating.

was it leading you on? yes, but he supposes it was a win-win; he could send you those tiny bits of validation that was enough for you to stay respectfully at a distance while he probed at your intentions. unlike others who attempt to garner his favor, you're genuine, and you seriously take the time to know him. because you always text back with hearts, always reassure him, tell him to stay safe and wish him luck at every gamble, every high stakes bet he finds himself in. you even complimented his perfume once (and, if he had to be honest, he could not stop thinking about it all day—because that perfume he commissioned exclusively was based off of your own favorite scents and it was extremely embarrassing that he loved hugging you knowing that you loved the way he smelled and that it felt extremely domestic).

(sometimes, he doesn't reply. for months on end. suddenly the golden-haired man you love goes cold and you know then that aventurine ghosts you and then returns when he's in need of a friend—never a lover. it hurts you, but at the very least, you know he cares in his own way.)

and, if aventurine had to be honest, it was killing him from the inside bit by bit. as if to drive the knife deeper, you never danced around what exactly was going on with you two. you never ask why he ghosts you, then sends you a bundle of gifts all of a sudden and then rapidly spends time with you and repeating the cycle. no, you were consistently by his side, so warm and so caring—so unlike him—that aventurine wonders if it's really all right to open his heart to you.

if, by some chance, he actually wanted to be with you, would you treat him even more sweetly than before? aventurine thinks you would—you were beautiful in your entirety, and he was practically undeserving of you. he imagines himself kissing your hand and having you in his arms—and that feels like ice cold water being dumped onto his head, because you could do so much better and yet, why him?

so when aventurine hears about how a certain doctor was visiting you for some unknown reason, his already fragile sense of security in this little will-they, won't they crumbles.

and when he finds out that you were staying over with ratio? something twisted lodges itself in the little brushes of his heart, coiling and coiling—making him feel green. aventurine is aware you and the doctor are good friends, and ratio was the one who even told you to make a move on him! how could he just—suddenly interrupt?!

(was it dramatic? extremely. but knowing his friend and the person he secretly adores might end up together? you can't really blame him.)

he supposes this can be attributed to him. it was an egregious mistake, a blunder aventurine made—he never gave you a clear sight of whether he truly loved you or not and now you're slipping away from him.

so, he does something very unexpected.

at 3:00 AM in the wee early morning hours, aventurine practically barges into one Dr. veritas ratio's home, demanding what the hell was going on between you. and as if he had expected it, his doctor friend merely gives him a shrug in return.

“perhaps they were simply getting fed up by a certain IPC member—who is clearly head over heels in love with them—giving them mixed signals.” ratio's tone is stern, and aventurine definitely knows that the look he gives him is the one he gives only to fools.

you idiot, the doctor seems to say. yeah, yeah, he is; aventurine ignores the clear pinprick at his dignity.

yes, he supposes he is the fool here. “ah.”

“yes, ‘ah,’ indeed. now, let me propose a question.” the purple-haired man says. “will you react in such a way when i tell you that in order for my friend to stop their anguish, i managed to get them to fraternize with one of my colleagues?”

“...what?”

“they will be having a meet-up seven system hours from now.” ratio shrugs. eyes aventurine, who's looking at him like a gaping, stupid fish. “i can only hope that no one would dare to disrupt.”

...it doesn't take him long to be rid of the gambler by then.

(a few hours later, you stop by the Intelligentsia Guild to see one veritas ratio with a smug smile, eyeing the fur coat draped around your shoulders, and the flushed and happy expression written on your face.

“did it work?” he asks.

you laugh, “splendidly.”

indeed, that gambler was a fool, and there's nothing more than dr. ratio loved than to educate such fools to shape.

“that will teach him.”)

as a quote unquote ‘old man’ who knows that he's well up in his years for a relationship, JING YUAN finds you to be quite amusing.

it doesn't take a detailed analysis to know that you were smitten with him, really. you're a complete open book by his standards—if your heated face and slightly airy voice whenever you were even placed in the same vicinity with the Dozing General was anything to come by. while flattering, he also shares the similar mindset of being too old for any love his way—and he could be mara-struck at any given time, and jing yuan does not wish such a life filled with anguish and pain for the one who may steal his heart. but, worry not, brave suitor of the Arbiter General! unlike the other two above, this man has the experience of millenia, and is open-minded and aware that you truly wish to be perceived as a potential lover.

in fact, jing yuan's recent favorite habit is sneaking off the Seat of Divine Foresight purely to freak you out, watching you scramble up your words, seeing the heat crawl up your nape and bloom all across your face. adorable. you certainly knew how to appeal, that's for sure.

(“heh, it seems i've found a new place to stay in so that the Diviner Fu won't grill me alive when she sees me.”

and when he's rewarded with a bashful and speechless look in return, a smile and your, “i'm glad, general.” it surprisingly lightens up his mood by more than he expected.

that, in turn, gives him a frightening 30% energy boost; fu xuan was utterly shocked to see the languid man actually working and looking like he enjoyed it, for once.

“did something good happen today, jing yuan? why so enthusiastic?”

“i just felt like working more than usual, diviner Fu. i seem to have my energy levels at a high.”)

now, jing yuan is considerate and perceptive first and foremost, so there's a high chance that out of all the men here, he is the most open to giving you the chance to pursue him. he does inform you beforehand that he has no plans of accepting your confessions in the future, and that is where the ‘hard to get’ part comes in.

it's like playing a confusing romance visual novel with a fickle love interest—you never really know what you're doing, whether it's something jing yuan would like or not, and you don't know if he even thinks your attempts are moving his heart. (tldr: he friend zones you).

he maintains the same distance no matter his banters with you, no matter how many times you tell him that you'd help yanqing out with sword lessons. it's like he was just... treating you as he would a friend, and that you were basically stuck in the friend-zone forever.

(he keeps it to himself, but something warm stirs in his chest when he sees yanqing sleeping on your shoulder after training practice, with your arm protectively around the boy's side.

your sleeping face didn't make it easy to look away either; it's one of the few moments in which jing yuan shows just the slightest bit of reciprocating your pursuits; he brushes back the stray hairs covering your face, and drapes a blanket over the two of you.

of course, perhaps to tease yanqing, he also takes the calligraphy brush and makes a work out of his face, doodling all over it.

when you wake up, there's a lingering scent of ink and yellowed paper that fills your senses. when you turn to the boy beside you, you almost giggle out loud.)

it's a little disheartening—and while jing yuan did acknowledge that you were slowly, slowly burrowing yourself in his heart, he doesn't act on it fast enough, and instead lets the realization sit in his mind for a while.

it gets to the point where it feels as though he were preparing to distance himself, and even yanqing had asked if he was well. your visits with the Arbiter General also decrease, as he suddenly buried himself in his work even more than before.

he doesn't get to see you all that much afterwards, despite the lingering feeling of missing you filling his heart.

....that's until jing yuan hears word of a recent mara-struck incident involving the Sky-faring Commission; with your name listed among those heavily injured.

when he visits Bailu's clinic after yanqing urges him, jing yuan takes in the sight of you, littered in injuries from head to toe. your life, about to snap. he never even told you that you won; you did manage to steal his heart and for the first time in a long time, jing yuan allows himself to love.

so if, after three weeks later when you're finally healed up and ready to go, jing yuan brings you into his arms and drags you to let him sleep in your lap, you can't really blame him now, can you?

a/n: i love yearner hsr men,,, might do a pt 2 though. thinking of mayb ratio, jiaoqiu and f/heng next time...... sighs dreamily

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

5K notes · View notes

melminli · 5 days ago

Text

BANG BANG BANG

summery - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, death, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

prev. l next.

"I ask for your attention. The first game will begin shortly. Each player will have their picture taken, then they will follow the staff onto the pitch."

You eyed the confusing and pastel-colored building you were standing in as you listened to the instructions. It wasn't too loud although, there was a bit of whispering from the crowd, the line to the photo booths was pretty organized as well. That was until you suddenly noticed a commotion from a corner, and look who was at the center of it. You just rolled your eyes when you saw the purple-headed guy standing casually between his fans and looked away annoyed after he winked at you charmingly.

Thanos didn't let your subtle rejection bother him. He called out your name and gestured with his fingers to indicate that there was an empty spot next to him - you know, for the group photo. "Hey, you can join the photo too. Come on."

You continued to ignore his voice and moved forward as the gap between you and the others in front of you widened. Eventually, the loud voices faded into the background, and it was your turn to take the photo. However, while you stood in front of the camera and looked at the smiley face before you, all sense of happiness vanished. If only you weren't so desperate for money, you wouldn't feel compelled to remain in this strange place surrounded by these people.

The flash went off without you even realizing it and caught the absent look on your face. You continued to follow the moving queue like a grazing animal following its herd, lost somewhere in your thoughts until suddenly a person grabbed you by the shoulder.

You instinctively started to defend yourself with widened eyes. "What the hell dude?!" you screamed silently in a panic until you saw the grinning perpetrator in front of you. "Su-bong? What's your problem, I told you to stay away from me asshole, are you stupid?" you grunted angrily and tried again to catch up with the person in front of you so as not to block the way any further.

Thanos just shrugged his shoulders disinterestedly while he casually climbed the stairs behind you. "You really talk a lot, so don't hold it against me when I tune most of it out," he replied, which made you walk a little faster and made him pick up a little more speed to keep up with you.

"Hey, wait a second, woman!" he called out and followed you. "Besides, you know what? You should just call me Thanos, everyone does - it's the name I go by, you know? Not that I expect someone like you to understand the creative thought behind it, but come on. At least try."

You raised your palm to stop his flow of words and perhaps also to put up an imaginary wall between the two of you. "You can explain it however you want, but that's not your name, it's stupid and I'm definitely not going to call you that." you laughed at him. "Only someone like you could watch every single Marvel movie there is and then identify with the ugly mega villain, really."

That's why I'm not listening, he thought to himself, running his tongue through his teeth in annoyance. "Can you like not be a bitch for a second? You're killing the mood," he spoke out before leaning over the railing and shouting. "The mood is dying!"

"Shut up!" you whispered aggressively as you dragged him away by the arm and rubbed your face in frustration. "What did I do wrong in life besides being born to deserve this..."

Su-bong shook his sleeve from your grip as he sighed himself. "Don't be so dramatic. Are you really still angry about that thing with -"

"Yes," you answer without hesitation, not needing to know how he finished his sentence. Why? Because ever since you knew him, this guy had only made decisions that made you angry. When you thought of the reason that finally broke the camel's back, you had to stop yourself and take a deep breath. "Whatever, someone like you isn't worth it," you declared and then walked with several others through some gate, into the open. No, you were still surrounded by walls, even if they disguised themselves as the sky and clouds.

"Welcome to the first game. All players, please wait a moment on the field. I repeat -"

You continued to look around and noticed people entering from two more entrances. Thanos stood in front of you to block your view. "Are you seriously ignoring me right now? You women are all the same."

You only confirmed his statement with your silence and by averting your gaze from him. Before he could object any further, the gates suddenly closed behind you and the voice from the loudspeakers started talking again. "The first game is called: Green Light, red Light."

A game for children? You repeated perplex in your head and tuned out the voice explaining the rules of the game. You often played this game as a child anyway, you knew how to play it. Do we really earn money by playing this?

"Listen to me! Listen carefully, everyone!" A man suddenly shouted out, attracting the attention of the crowd by trying to explain that losing in this innocent game would mean death.

Unconsciously, your heart began to beat faster as various thoughts raced through your mind. What is this crazy guy talking about? You get killed if you lose? What nonsense. But on the other hand, there must be a catch, who else would give out money for something like this? Maybe -

"Don't worry, that guy just has a few screws loose." Su-bong's voice suddenly spoke out next to you as he turned his index finger next to his head to visualize it. "I can see that there are a million completely unnecessary thoughts running through your little head right now because you always have this funny look on your face when you do," he explained and you just tried really hard not to pay attention to him. He just had to make life difficult for you.

Your eyes wandered again and you looked at the disbelieving faces of the others, who were also just looking at the front man strangely. I'll just be careful and see what happens. Someone will probably lose and then we'll see if it's true or not, simple as that.

There was an announcement that the game was about to start and you saw the stopwatch at the front set to five minutes. You took a deep breath and finally, the robot girl moved to look away. "Red light, green light."

Your concentration was fixed on watching her movements so that you could stop at the right moment. You didn't want to rush, but the time pressure was real. You found yourself glancing at the time too often and subconsciously started to count the seconds you had left. You usually weren't a person who could work under such circumstances, but you had to manage the whole thing somehow. You really didn't want to lose, especially not be the first to do it.

"Freeze! Don't move!"

Shut the fuck up. This guy was seriously getting on your nerves. Your eyes were looking forward while you just stood still and then, a bee flew in front of you. Stay away you stupid thing, you thought as the distance between the insect and your face grew smaller and smaller.

A female voice next to you finally spoke out. "Is this guy on drugs?" She asked when the strange man started to scream again, you didn't know if it was that which caught the bee's attention or her sweet perfume that was suddenly being carried through the wind in your direction, but it didn't matter. You were just glad that it wasn't your problem anymore. Though, you couldn't breathe a sigh of relief since you didn't dare breathe at all when that creepy doll was turned in your direction. The thing looked like it could shoot lasers out of its eyes at any second or something.

"Nope, that's not how you act when you're high." Thanos replied from beside you, and even if you could hold your breath for as long as you needed to, things looked a lot different when it came to a petty comment.

Your mouth didn't move when you spoke, like that of a ventriloquist's. "Of course, you would know best, you fucking drug addict." was all that came out of you while you looked at his back.

Thanos grunted as several ideas popped into his head about how he could twist your words, but he tried really hard not to say any of them. I could really take some pills right now. "I'm about to really hurt your feelings, sweetie."

"No! Really?" you let out as you pretended to be really scared of what was about to happen before your tone changed back to being monotone. "I'm pissing in my pants, please don't."

Ignoring your little argument, the little innocent bee finally landed on the neck of number 196. "Hey, what's that?" she uttered as she felt a slight tingling sensation on her neck.

Thano's eyes turned to her figure beside him as he answered her. "Don't freak out, it's just a bee."

"A bee?!" She exclaimed in a panic and started waving her arms around wildly to scare the insect away as quickly as possible. You watched her, as many others probably did right now, but the girl herself realized her own mistake far too late when she finally stopped moving and looked up at Thanos. "Shit." she laughed out. "I just moved."

As soon as she finished her sentence, a bullet flew straight through her skull and dropped her body motionless to the floor. You felt a cold shiver run through your whole body and your heart suddenly stopped before it started beating like crazy in your chest. That didn't just happen. Your head automatically tried to calm you down with some kind of slander, but your eyes couldn't help but move to the dead body on the floor, which was now smeared with fresh blood. No, it really did.

next.

#squid game thanos #squid game season 2 #squid game #squid game x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x reader #thanos x reader #thanos #thanos squid game #choi seunghyun #chou su bong x reader #cho su-bong #choi su bong #choi su-bong x reader #fanfiction #t.o.p #player 230

2K notes · View notes

cleo-fox · 1 month ago

Text

Safehouse

Summary: This mission wasn't supposed to go as badly as it has. There wasn't supposed to be a blizzard, you weren't supposed to get snowed in at a remote cabin, and there certainly was supposed to be more than one bed. And none of this would be a problem were it not for your completely irrational, ill-advised crush on Loki.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, p in v sex, fingering, workplace crushes, There Was Only One Bed.

A/N: I didn't think this was going to be the next fic I posted, but this has been 95% finished for over a year and I just figured out the final 5% in the last 72 hours. Don't ask me how my brain works because I truly don't know sometimes. Also, perhaps after you read this, you will think "hey, I would like to read another fic that involves railing Loki in the middle of a blizzard." Well, my friend, then you should read Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark by the great @loki-cees-all because not only is there a blizzard and one bed, it is also beautifully written.

You didn’t expect this mission to go as badly as it has.

It was supposed to be quick, one of those tidy in and out things that almost feels routine—or at least as routine as things ever get in this line of work.

No one counted on a fucking blizzard, though.

It comes upon you suddenly enough to feel suspicious—one moment, it’s slate grey skies and barely a puff of wind and the next thing you know, the wind is howling and whipping at your coat and you can barely see three feet ahead of you.

“What the fuck is this?” you shout at Loki, who looks just as perplexed as you feel. “I thought you said the radar was clear.”

“It was,” he says, frowning. He taps at the screen of the device, an overly complicated piece of tech that you’d delegated to him because Tony’s brief training sessions had made your eyes glaze over. Still, though, you know enough to tell that you’re looking at a weather map and there’s absolutely no sign of the storm that’s howling around you.

An uneasy feeling is bubbling in the pit of your stomach and prickling up the back of your neck. Everything about this feels wrong.

“We need to find shelter,” says Loki. You know him well enough to tell that he’s pretending to be really calm and unbothered because he doesn’t want you to know that something’s wrong. Normally, you’d call him out on that bullshit, but the creepy crawly feeling running up your spine coupled with the storm that doesn’t seem to exist has you itching to get inside as soon as possible.

“There’s a safehouse just west of this hill,” he continues, tapping at the screen.

“Let’s go, then.”

The trek to the safehouse is fairly demanding, even though the distance is short. You’re walking straight into the wind, which seems to grow stronger and more biting by the minute. The snow under your feet grows slick with ice and your pace slows to a crawl, though even that doesn’t stop you from slipping.

The safehouse turns out to be an unassuming cabin that’s a little too shabby to be rustic; in the biting wind and dim light of the storm, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You make it to the door and a few minutes later, you’re inside.

The cabin has been unoccupied long enough to put a light layer of dust on some of the furniture, but not enough to render anything musty or moth-ridden. It is charming in a way that you don’t normally see with S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouses—handcrafted furniture that’s a little rough around the edges, pine board floors, a squat wood burning stove in the center of the room that makes you want to curl up and read a book. It’s…homey and maybe even comfortable, two qualities that S.H.I.E.L.D. is decidedly not known for. It’s a welcome surprise, given how this mission has gone so far.

Loki bolts the door the moment you’re both inside and quickly turns his attention to the windows.

“I’m putting up wards,” he says. There’s a grim set to his jaw that you don’t particularly like, largely because you only see it when something is wrong.

The back of your neck prickles.

The wood burning stove is not merely decorative—it’s the cabin’s only heat source. There are a few places that are intended to blend in no matter what—you suspect this is one of them. You manage to get a fire going and you settle yourself in front of it while Loki works. You know enough to not interrupt him, even though you feel like you’re about to bubble over with questions.

It takes him a while to finish warding all the windows and you notice he shuts the curtains for each one once he’s finished, which sends another chill up your spine. When he finally joins you by the fire, he looks a little tired.

“So, I take it you can’t just magic that storm away or something,” you say, with a casual sort of tone that sounds strained even to you.

“It doesn’t work like that,” he says, which you sort of expected. The set of his jaw is still tight. “And even if it did, this isn’t an ordinary storm. Someone is doing this.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that impression.” You pause, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. “Any idea who?”

He shakes his head. “Someone very ancient. Angry.”

You exhale. “Great. Do I want to know what the deal is with the curtains?”

“We should not look outside after the sun sets.”

The skin on the back of your neck prickles. “Why?”

There’s a reason that they call Loki “Silvertongue:” he is a compelling, eloquent speaker. And the somewhat irritating part is that he can do this extemporaneously and effortlessly—he doesn’t need to think about it at all.

So the fact that he pauses for a moment to think scares you a lot. His gaze drifts to the fire, quiet and thoughtful, as though he might find his answers written in the embers.

“Imagine every ghost story you heard as a child coming true,” he says finally.

You don’t like how spare he is on the details, but an icy chill works its way up your spine and you get the eerie sense that someone is listening. Suddenly, you don’t feel like asking any more questions.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Being in close quarters with Loki is…something.

There was a time early on, back when you first started working together when you thought something could maybe happen between the two of you. It was hard not to—Loki is attractive, certainly, but he has a particular magnetic quality that can make a stadium full of people think that he’s talking just to them (incidentally, this is also one of the qualities that gets red flags and warnings added to his file at S.H.I.E.L.D.) When you experience that up close, well…it’s intense, to say the least. It becomes easy to believe that his smiles mean something more, that he sees something intriguing in you.

Your feelings for Loki aren’t exactly a crush, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Crushes are silly infatuations that make people do incredibly stupid things and entertain incredibly stupid hopes. You are a professional with a good head on your shoulders: you know better. You’re attracted to him, but it doesn’t matter because nothing is going to happen.

Perhaps more importantly: Loki is a god and you are not. You have a good relationship—your banter comes easily and he seems to enjoy talking to you more than he likes talking to the average person—but it’s strictly professional and that’s all it ever will be. The fact that you’ve been working closely together for three years without a hint of anything romantic only confirms your theory. He’s your colleague, nothing more.

Except…being trapped in a small cabin with him is dredging up a whole swarm of feelings that you would have sworn you had gotten over.

And the storm is showing no signs of stopping.

And there’s only one bed.

It’s a fucking cliché, the kind of thing you’d roll your eyes at if you saw it in a movie or read it in a book, but you’re a professional and you’re also not sleeping on the floor. Besides, you’ve both got sleeping bags and it’s a double bed—it’s not like you’ve got to curl up together or anything.

Not that you’d complain if you had to.

Which, again, is another feeling you thought you were over.

The wood burning stove is doing its best to keep up, but it’s still no match for the storm outside, even though Loki’s done something to the logs to keep them regenerating as they burn. You dig out an extra pair of woolen socks from your pack and pull on your fleece over your sweater and long sleeved thermal. You pile your coat on top of your sleeping bag, along with your share of the scratchy wool blankets you’d pulled out of the cedar chest by the foot of the bed.

Loki watches you with the lightly amused look that always feels like he must be quietly making fun of you.

“What?” you say as you settle yourself under the blankets. “Some of us are delicate mortals who find the cold a little uncomfortable.”

“I said absolutely nothing,” he says, though the glimmer in his eyes undercuts his point.

“You were thinking it.”

“Oh, the things I think of would turn your head, darling.”

You know that there’s no innuendo specific to you in that statement, but your body reacts like there is: your heart and stomach do a complicated series of flips that would put trapeze artists to shame and a heavy, familiar heat stirs hopefully in your hips. Outwardly, you roll your eyes at him and focus on arranging the blankets over your legs.

“I’m well aware that your mind is a kaleidoscope of horrors,” you say.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s horrors so much as—”

You recognize that look in his eye: it is the herald of something wildly inappropriate. And while you’re no prude, the reality is that you’re about to share a bed with him and you will have no outlet for whatever feelings of lust this will inevitably provoke. Time to change the subject to something as far away from sex as possible, which happens to be whatever creepy fuckery is happening outside.

“Speaking of horrors: why are you being so cagey about what’s going on out there?” you say.

You almost feel a little guilty as the teasing expression disappears from his face and settles into something grimmer. “It’s safer this way,” he says as he sets about preparing his own sleeping bag and blankets.

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” you say.

“I know.”

It occurs to you that this is a perfect example of the cryptic bullshit that makes his intentions so hard to read. Is he saying this because he cares about you? Is he trying to prevent problems down the road? All of the above or something else entirely? Nobody fucking knows, least of all you.

You scowl at him and he looks completely unbothered, which is typical.

“I hate it when you do this, you know,” you say.

There’s a slight twitch to his lips that could be a hint of a smile and you’re embarrassed by how giddy that makes you feel.

“I know,” he says.

“It makes me feel like you don’t trust me or something.”

He stops what he’s doing and looks at you and his face is so honest and open that it makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Of course I trust you,” he says.

There’s something unsaid in his expression and you’re not quite sure what it is, but it leaves you with a warm glow in your chest.

“Okay,” you say softly.

For the briefest of moments, the difference between god and human doesn’t feel so impossibly vast.

But it’s only a moment.

You fall asleep quickly, even with Loki lying so close by that you could count his breaths if you wanted to.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. The wind is still howling outside. Your mouth is dry and you fumble on the nightstand for your water bottle. Your fingers close around empty space and it occurs to you that you’d left it over by the fire.

You lie still, staring at the ceiling. The blankets have warmed up with your body heat and you’re not keen to brave the chill of the cabin. You could wake Loki up, maybe ask him to summon your water bottle to you. You nearly snort with laughter at the thought. That would go over well.

After a moment, you muster up all of your strength and willpower and haul yourself out of bed.

It’s not as bad as you thought it would be, in the end. You pad over to the fire and take a long drink from your water bottle, which turns out to be almost empty. You go to the little kitchen to refill it, idly listening to the wind howl outside.

You wonder if it’s still snowing, if the snow is piling up in drifts against the doors and windows, freezing you in. The thought of being stranded here with Loki is admittedly appealing.

Your brain is still a fuzzy from sleep and you’re a little distracted thinking about being snowed in with Loki and for just a moment, you forget what he said about not looking outside. You reach up to the kitchen window and push the fabric of the curtain aside to see how bad the snow is.

You’re not frightened at first because you only see shadows, but after a moment, you realize that the shadows are moving in an unnatural, broken sort of way, like someone had sculpted them into rough facsimiles of people and commanded them to walk, without really explaining what walking was.

Quite suddenly, they all turn and look at you. Or they would be looking at you if they had eyes. There is simply a void where their faces are, though somehow you can tell that their mouths are open, gaping and hungry, showing all of their teeth.

You feel something hook into the thread of your thoughts, tugging and pulling at your mind. The world tilts on its axis and there’s a sharp and white hot burning at the base of your skull that makes you cry out.

In the haze of pain, you think to yourself that it’s like they’re trying to take your soul and the shadows grin at you with too many teeth and a hissing, sibilant chorus of voices says, yes, we are hungry. So very hungry.

You know in that moment that they intend to kill you.

You are leaning closer to the window, your thoughts growing dark and murky as something saws away at the thing that tethers your soul to your body and there is so much pain and all of those horrible spindly hands and grinning mouths are reaching for you—

Someone is grabbing you around the waist and you scream because you think this must be the end, but instead, they’re pulling you away from the window and yanking the curtain closed and you realize it’s Loki.

There is a flash of green light and the connection between you and whatever is outside breaks abruptly and the pain retreats to a dull ache, like your body is carefully starting to repair those shredded, fraying threads that the shadows were tugging on.

Loki’s eyes are wild and he looks at you like he half expects you to disintegrate or melt into the shadows. You are suddenly shaking so badly that your legs start to buckle.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you say through chattering teeth. The cold you feel is bone deep and unnatural. “F-f-forgot.”

“Foolish girl.” He says it without malice, almost with affection, though his face is drawn tight with something like worry. Your legs are about to fail you, but he’s right there before they can, scooping you up into his arms like it’s nothing.

You snuggle up against his chest almost automatically, your body instinctively seeking out heat. “S-s-s-sorry, c-c-c-cold,” you manage to squeak out.

“I know,” he says and it almost sounds gentle. He is carrying you across the room and climbing back into bed with you in his arms, drawing the pile of blankets and sleeping bags over the two of you.

The wind howls and you shudder, realizing for perhaps the first time that it may not be the wind making those noises. Loki stiffens, his grip on you tightening.

“Did you see their eyes?”

You shake your head.

You feel some of the tension leave him, though not all.

You have so many questions, but that unnatural, bone deep cold is making you sluggish and sleepy and your teeth are chattering so hard you wonder if you’d even be able to speak at all.

“You need to rest,” he says. The cold feels like the sort of thing that could easily claim you while you sleep and he must see that fear reflected in your eyes because his expression softens ever so slightly. “Rest. I’ll keep you safe.”

You don’t like how quickly that line melts you. You tell yourself that it’s only because you’re so cold and tired, but you know that’s not entirely true.

You allow your head to drop to his chest and he readjusts his grip on you, smoothing one hand against your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head. You try to catalog all of the different senses—the way he smells like snow and pine, the heat of his body pressed against yours, the feeling of his arms wrapped around you—but sleep is pulling insistently at your eyelids and you find yourself struggling to stay awake.

“Rest,” he says, and this time it sounds like a command.

Your eyes slowly slide shut and sleep finally claims you.

It seems like you sleep for a long time. Your dreams are strange and unsettling and have an odd sort of veneer, like they’re real but not quite.

The first time you wake up, it’s because of a nightmare. You are back at the window and the things outside are threading their fingers underneath the panes, reaching for you with their spindly hands, clacking their too sharp teeth. You don’t know where Loki is and you’re trying to back away as they reach for you, and one of them is wrapping its fingers around your wrist and you can see its eyes and—

You thrash out in your sleep and gentle hands are soothing you. You wake abruptly, shaking, blearily looking up at Loki’s face.

“They—they were coming for me,” you manage to sputter out.

“Shh.” Loki is stroking your back. “You’re safe. I won’t let them harm you.”

Your pounding heartbeat takes a moment to settle, but the gentle pressure of Loki’s hands on your back calms you slightly. There’s a tenderness in his actions that you don’t necessarily expect, but it also feels so right and natural that you wonder how you could have ever been surprised by it.

“What are they?” you ask.

“That’s an answer for daylight, love,” he says. “Go back to sleep. You’re safe.”

You want to protest and push for answers, but you’re so very tired and he’s smoothing your hair again and you can feel exhaustion tugging at your eyelids, ready to pull you back under.

“I’m holding you to that,” you manage to mumble at him. “I’m not going to forget.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Sleep, darling.”

You fall back under.

Your dreams are still wild and strange this time around. You wake again a few hours later, teeth chattering and tears streaming down your face. Loki wraps you even more tightly in his arms, drawing more blankets over the two of you, conjuring an additional pile of furs. You try to tell him to save his magic for the wards and the fire, but he hushes you and mutters something about how that’s not exactly how it works, even though you’re pretty sure it is.

You sleep again.

You have a half memory of him quieting you and pressing his lips against your forehead, but you’re not quite sure if it’s real or wishful thinking.

When you wake again, it’s still dark and the wind is still howling. The cold has retreated somewhat—it’s not as sharp, not as biting, but you still need the warmth of the blankets and Loki’s arms to keep it at bay.

You’re a bit more clearheaded now, so there’s part of you that feels a little embarrassed about what happened. It was a stupid mistake. Rookie level. You know better.

“Are you awake?” Loki’s voice rumbles pleasantly against your ear.

“Sort of.” You hope he continues holding you. You’re not quite ready to give up his warmth or his arms just yet.

“How is one ‘sort of’ awake? Either you aren’t or you are,” he says.

“I’m very talented,” you say. It’s not particularly funny, but he humors you with a soft laugh, more exhalation than anything else.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Still cold,” you say. While it is true, you’re also secretly hoping that the more you emphasize this, the more likely he is to continue holding you. “It’s better than it was, but it’s still bad.”

As if to prove a point, a shudder works its way through you. Loki shifts, rolling over so his body covers yours, pulling the blankets up so they cover your shoulders. It helps, but there’s now a degree of intimacy there that makes your heart stumble in your chest and your breath catch in your throat. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but with his green eyes bright above you, you can’t help but hope he does.

Leave it to him to ruin the moment.

“That was very foolish of you,” he says, his expression becoming serious and his voice taking on that hard edge that you only hear when he’s trying to pick a fight.

You exhale sharply. “Are you seriously trying to do this right now? I told you it was an accident. I was half asleep.”

“I’m not fond of close calls,” he says tightly.

“Oh bullshit,” you snap. “You fucking love chaos, don’t tell—”

“It’s not chaos, it was foolish and dangerous—”

“For fuck’s sake, do you think I’m not aware of that? I’m not—”

“You could have died.” He’s not yelling, but he’s raising his voice and there’s an unexpectedly strained quality to his tone that you don’t know what to do with. “It’s not chaos, it’s not an accident, it’s—”

For a moment, he seems like he might be at a loss for words, and for some reason, this enrages you.

“It’s what, Loki?” you say with more venom than you intend. “Please enlighten me, since you’re such a fucking expert.”

You’re not quite sure what line you’ve crossed, but you think it must be an important one based on how angry he looks.

“You truly are infuriating,” he says. “You nearly get yourself killed and you have the audacity to speak that way to me after I save your life!?”

And before you can say a word, he brings his mouth down on yours in a bruising kiss.

His tongue sweeps past your lips, seeking out yours, demanding and hungry. Your response is reflexive and instinctive, your lips parting, tongue meeting his. You return his kiss, even though you’re still a little mad at him and he’s maybe still a little mad at you. But his mouth loses that hard edge as you kiss him back, his touch turning softer, more tender, but still urgent and wanting.

“Do not scare me like that ever again,” he murmurs against your lips, kissing you in between words, each pause punctuated by the soft caress of his lips, the silky warmth of his tongue. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

You are astonished and somewhat perplexed. “I…I didn’t even know that you…that you wanted this—“

“Darling, I have thought of little else.”

His mouth covers yours again and you are drowning in the feeling of him. The cold that has settled in your bones is melting like snow in springtime. You move your hands along his shoulders, tentative at first, then a little braver. You thread your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and smooth it is. He deepens the kiss, his fingertips tracing the curve of your cheekbones.

It’s dizzingly good and you want more. You need more. You arch against him in a clear invitation, reveling in how perfectly his body fits against yours. He sighs and presses back against you briefly before pulling away.

“You should rest,” he says, his voice slightly strained. “You experienced some very powerful magic—I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“I won’t,” you say, tugging him back down to you. He allows this for a moment, his hands cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss with toe curling intensity.

And then he draws back.

“You really do need to rest,” he says.

You shake your head. “I need you, Loki.”

His lips and tongue are just as insistent as yours when you pull him back into a kiss. You can feel him growing hard against your thigh and when you wrap your legs around his waist and rock your hips against him, he groans and nips at your lip before withdrawing again.

“Darling,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“I can stay on my back,” you say.

“Appealing as that is, you’re rather ignoring my point.”

“And you’re ignoring mine,” you say, rolling your hips again. His eyes close for a moment as he presses back against you, his hand sliding along your thigh. Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him back down into a kiss that he returns without protest.

You catch his lower lip between your teeth and he sucks in a deep breath as he grinds his hips against you.

“Please,” you breathe. “I need you so bad.”

He groans as he lowers his head to the column of your throat. “I’m trying to keep you safe and you’re tempting me like this.”

“Touch me and tell me I need to rest more than I need you.”

It’s a bold thing to say and your heart pounds with anticipation as you feel him nip at your collarbone. His hand pauses at your hip, so close to where you need him. You wait a moment and then take his hand in yours and guide it underneath your waistband and between your legs. He lifts his head, gaze snapping to yours and the moment that his fingers graze your slickness, you know that you’ve won.

“Oh, you’re dripping,” he says, his voice dropping and his eyes darkening with lust as his fingers swipe across your clit.

You’re tempted to tell him that you told him so, but this still feels so fragile and tenuous that you settle for a more flattering truth: “Loki, I need you.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He shifts on top of you so that you feel the hard press of his cock against your hip.

“Same thing that you’re doing to me,” you say. “Which is why I need you to fuck me.”

He sighs, but his fingers don’t stop moving. “You really ought to rest.”

“I can stay on my back,” you say. “You can take me really slowly and gently. Think about how good that will feel.”

“Darling,” he says. You can see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes and you know that you’ve almost won. You feel your orgasm starting to coil like a snake in your belly and you moan, rocking your hips with his hand.

“Loki.” You lick your lips. “Don’t you want to feel me come on your cock?”

You know the exact moment he gives in—you see it in his eyes. Less than a second later, he’s sliding one long finger inside of you and curling it just right.

“Not before I finish what I started.” His voice is a low growl.

“Yes,” you breathe, letting your head tip back against the pillow. “God, that feels so good.”

“I can feel you trembling,” he says, his voice rough. “Are you going to come for me already? I’ve barely touched you.”

“I told you: I need you,” you say.

He raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening in a very attractive way. “You’re not getting pert with me, are you?”

There’s a particular tone to his voice, a sternness that makes you shiver. Something to explore later, perhaps—right now, you need him too badly to play games.

“No, just trying to emphasize that I need you.”

“Are you really that desperate for me? Do you really need me that much? Surely you could touch yourself, surely you don’t need me that badly.”

You know that he’s saying that to amp you up, to tease you. But you are also so desperate to come that the idea of not having him is beyond comprehension.

“I do,” you say, a bit of desperate note making its way into your voice. “I need you, Loki, I need to come for you, need you to fuck me, please don’t make me wait, please, please, please—”

He stops your mouth with a kiss as he eases a second finger inside of you. “I’m going to take care of you, sweet thing,” he says as you gasp at the stretch.

His fingers are curling inside of you, his thumb working your clit in small, tight circles that are pushing you closer and closer to the edge as a fantastic pressure builds inside of you.

“Oh, that’s it.” His eyes are dark, pupils wide and lust-blown. “I can feel how close you are.” He brings his lips to your ear. “Come for me and then I’ll fuck you properly.”

Your breath hitches as you reach your peak. “Oh god—I—fuck, I’m coming, I’m—”

Your voice cuts out as you come, pure pleasure blooming low in your hips, your back arching against the mattress as Loki works you through it, murmuring soft encouragement as he watches you shake in his arms.

“You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Utterly stunning.”

You fumble for the waistband of his pants, your fingers slipping over the fastenings. “I need you,” you say, tugging at the fabric.

His mouth curls into a smile, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Are you quite certain?”

Leather yields to warm skin and you slide your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He inhales sharply as you stroke him, his eyes turning dark.

“You’re presenting a very compelling argument,” he says.

“Think about how good you’ll feel inside of me,” you say, gently increasing the pressure on his shaft as you move your hand.

“Norns, woman.” But he’s rolling on top of you as he says this and sliding his pants off his hips. He pauses briefly to divest you of your pants and underwear. A shiver works through you during the brief moment when your bare skin is exposed to the chill of the room…and he notices right away, hesitating slightly as his brow furrows in concern.

“Don't you dare stop,” you say. “I don’t care if I get hypothermia and die, I will straight up implode if you don’t fuck me right now.”

He chuckles, pulling more blankets around the two of you as he settles himself between your thighs. “Are you always so demanding?”

“Look, you’ve been teasing me for the last twenty minutes and you’ve been strutting around in those fucking leather pants for a lot longer, so forgive me if I’m a little impatient.”

He pauses above you, his expression deadly serious. “Let's get one thing quite clear, my love: I do not strut.”

There’s a glimmer in his eyes and you smirk back at him. “You totally do.”

He lines up the tip of his cock with your entrance. “I walk with the gravitas and stature appropriate to my station.”

“You strut and I know you strut because it’s extremely distracting.”

His smile is sly. “Tell me more about how I distract you.”

“You make me think about doing this with you.”

The tip of his cock eases into you. “Do I? How often, would you say?”

“All the time.”

He sinks in another inch. “All the time?”

“Mmmhm.”

One more inch. “That does sound terribly distracting.”

“You’re still trying to tease me,” you say and he grins and gives you another inch.

“You wouldn’t want me as much if I didn’t.”

“I’d want you always, no matter what.”

His gaze turns serious and he leans into kiss you, his hands stroking your cheek as he sinks into you fully, all the way to the hilt. You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, your legs wrapping around his waist to hold him even closer. He’s still for a moment, his eyes shut.

He opens them.

“I’ve waited so long to have you,” he murmurs.

“You have me,” you say. “You always have.”

He kisses you deeply as he starts moving, slow as honey, sweetness in every thrust of his hips or touch of his lips. He fills you in a way that you’ve never experienced, his cock bumping up against that tender place inside you, making you gasp and pull him deeper.

It builds slowly and steadily, the muscles of your cunt tightening as he takes you higher. You shudder as your climax builds.

“That’s it, my love,” he breathes. “That’s it.”

You inhale sharply, your orgasm swelling within you, rising, about to pull you under. You ride that wave, your hips rocking with his. You try and hold on for as long as you can because he feels so good and you don’t want it to end, but eventually, it becomes too much.

You keen and he kisses you. “Come for me, darling. Let me feel you come.”

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and all your muscles tense and release as you come. Loki sucks in a sharp breath, brow furrowing.

“Fuck.” His pace increases slightly. “You’re divine.”

Less than a second later, he’s also unraveling, his expression of ecstasy particularly beautiful in the flickering firelight. Even in the hazy afterglow of your own pleasure, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly spellbound.

As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you deeply and slows to a halt, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

“I don’t want to say I told you so—” you start.

“That’s a lie.” His reply is prompt and accompanied by another deep kiss.

You smile against his lips. “Okay, maybe I did want to say I told you so.”

“Better.”

You feel pleasantly loose and sleepy, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. He seems to notice your fatigue and raises an eyebrow. “Is this the part where I say I told you so?” he asks as he slowly eases out of you.

“Mmm, but it was so worth it,” you say. “So I’m basically right.”

“That’s not how that works,” he says.

“I’m not listening to you,” you say. “I need to recover my strength.”

“Now you’re just being pert.” He shifts to his side and draws you close so he’s spooned up against your back.

“You like it,” you say, barely stifling a yawn.

“Mmm, I do,” he says, drawing the pile of blankets back over you both. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yeah, but don’t go anywhere.”

You feel him smile as he presses a kiss against the back of your neck. “I don’t intend to.”

“Good.”

You both fall asleep like this, wrapped around each other, warm and safe from the storm outside.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x yn #loki x yn smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

pathologicalreid · 4 months ago

Text

extraordinary measures | s.r.

in which your life hangs in the balance after a brutal attack, and Spencer has to hold himself together for the sake of you and your baby

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: fetal abduction, potentially inaccurate medical information, entirely from spencer's pov, very violent crime, mom!reader, hospitals, medication, spencer lashes out at jj, rossi's son. word count: 4.41k a/n: the people said dad!spencer angst and i delivered. also! trying something new with formatting my posts. i pay for canva pro and need to get my money's worth.

The hospital staff had moved them into a conference room, giving the BAU more space to spread out – and so Spencer’s pacing wouldn’t disturb the other people in the waiting room. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. Not to us. Not to me. Not to her.

The statistics on fetal abduction were alarming. Before today, there had only been thirteen cases since Spencer had joined the BAU. Today alone, there had been two.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice said, followed by two knocks on the door, “I’m so sorry, but have you had the chance to fill out some of the forms that we gave you?”

Answering for him, Penelope grabbed the clipboard off of the table and passed it to the nurse, “The insurance card is on the top,” she informed the nurse. Nervously, the blonde looked between the medical professional and Spencer, “Is there any update?”

The nurse cringed slightly, “I don’t have one. I’ll see if they can send someone to talk to you.” She nodded assuredly before peeling out of the room.

“Can I get you anything?” Garcia asked helplessly. He had already been given tea, water, coffee, and a sandwich, but he didn’t want any of it.

Shaking his head numbly, Spencer dragged his hands down his face as he replayed the events of this morning in his head.

He wasn’t even supposed to be working, you were due any day now, but Emily had called him with the case and gave him the choice of working. He was supposed to go with you to the check-up, but you had encouraged him to go save a life.

The woman who had been found this morning had her abdomen crudely cut open and her baby was born via a botched cesarean section, but her baby was too premature and didn’t make it. They were both found in an alley near the hospital by a garbage man. Then, while he and Luke were at the medical examiner’s office, his phone started to ring.

You had been discovered, bleeding out, outside of your obstetrician’s office, and if you hadn’t been so close to a building full of doctors, you probably wouldn’t have made it as far as surgery right now. The fact that you had been brought to surgery should have been enough to give him hope, but he hasn’t been raised to be hopeful, he was raised to be pragmatic. The reality of the situation was that in cases of fetal abduction, the mothers rarely made it out the other side.

He was left with Garcia to keep him company, she stayed as a watchdog, mainly looking through traffic footage on her laptop as she made sure Spencer didn’t go entirely off the rails. “You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” she said offhandedly, begging Spencer to just sit down for a moment.

With a huff, he took a seat next to Penelope, leaning his head back on the taupe drywall, “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

“We’re going to wait, we are not going to catastrophize, and we will listen to any and all updates that the doctors give us,” she said determinedly, nodding her head as she did so. “We only know what we know and assuming the worst will just lead to feeling worse.”

Closing his eyes, he agreed, listening to the bustle of the hospital from inside the secluded, makeshift waiting space. He wished he knew more about your status when you came in, there were the crime scene photos – which Penelope was under strict orders not to show him – and a quick mention from a resident about blood loss, but nothing else.

“Dr. Reid?” A new voice said, snapping him out of his stupor as he rose to his feet, staring at the doctor who came in with his scrub cap on, “I’m afraid there isn’t much news. Things are still touch and go. They’re hopeful that they can get the bleeding under control, once they do that, we’ll know more. I’ll come out and let you know, alright?”

With the doctor leaving, Garcia reopened her laptop, “You see? We can’t assume the worst because we just don’t know enough yet.”

“Garcia,” he interrupted, hopeful for just a moment of silence to digest the new information – if you could even call it that.

Nodding succinctly, she returned to her work, “Right, okay.”

With the arrival of JJ, Penelope left to check in at the office, and since a profiler was bound to know more information, he asked JJ for an update. His baby had to be almost three hours old now, and he knew nothing about them.

He was left disappointed, there was no information on the UnSub or the baby, “What’s the point of it anyway?”

“Everyone is working on it, Spence. No one is going to rest until this case is closed,” JJ tried to reassure him.

Spencer wasn’t sure he was ever truly going to rest again, “Where is someone supposed to go with a newborn baby? The umbilical cord has to be still attached.” Statistically, women were more likely to commit cesarean abductions, and they usually did so after the loss of their own child or because they told someone they were pregnant and needed to produce a baby. “No one can tell me anything about my child, JJ, don’t you understand that? Can’t you try to understand how that feels?”

Bracing herself, JJ nodded, “You’re angry, I get it, you-“

“No, you don’t. My wife is bleeding out in surgery, and I have no fucking clue where our baby is. I have never met them. I don’t know if I have a son or a daughter or if they’re alive and you have the nerve to tell me that you ‘get it’?” He peered over at the blonde profiler. You should’ve been the first person to hold your baby, and instead, you might never live to find out what happened to you.

She was silent for a moment, “You’re right. I- I can’t even begin to process what you’re feeling right now, but all we can do is keep working on the case.”

Dropping his head in his hands, Spencer shook his head, “Then go work on the case,” he insisted, “I don’t… I need to be alone right now.”

Just as the four-hour mark approached, the glass door opened again, and David Rossi walked in.

“Are you here to lecture me?” Spencer asked, his voice raspy from crying in the solitude of the room, he wondered if JJ had told everyone how he lashed out at her.

Crossing one leg over the other, Rossi answered, “Nope,” he said, popping the last syllable. “I’m just here to sit and wait, same as you, kid.”

Nodding, Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes as a protection against the fluorescent lights of the hospital, “How did you manage?”

There were some things – life events – that were left unspoken in the BAU. Traumas that people didn’t want uncovered, horrors that the team didn’t need to relive, but Spencer needed answers, and this was the only way he could think to get them. “Manage what?”

“Losing your son,” he answered, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he kept his eyes closed, wondering if he too would lose a child. Birth and death within the same day.

Clearing his throat, Rossi took a moment before responding, and Spencer wasn’t sure if he was appalled at the question or if he simply wasn’t sure how to respond, “Well, I’m not sure I ever really did. Not for a long time, at least,” he admitted.

Digesting the information, Spencer shifted in his seat, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Everyone just keeps telling me to wait, but…” he chuckled to himself, “Y/N always jokes that if patience is the companion of wisdom, then I have to be the exception.”

He had always been told to wait. Wait for his turn. Wait for the perfect person to show up. He had waited, and he had gotten you, but all of that waiting had led him here. In this beige room where he had signed papers asking doctors to use extraordinary measures to try and save your life.

“Dr. Reid?” One of the doctors from earlier called his name, knocking on the glass door. Instinctively, Spencer stood up, wiping his hands on his pants and looking at the doctor expectantly, “Oh, please,” the doctor said, “Take a seat.”

Hesitantly, Spencer lowered himself back down into the hospital chair, he couldn’t help but feel like that was a bad sign.

“All things considered, your wife is very, very lucky,” the doctor informed him, “She’s not fully out of the woods yet, but they’re setting her up in recovery right now. I’m just waiting on a message from my colleague, and then I’ll be able to bring you up to see her.”

A flurry of questions flew through his mind at once, “What are you still concerned about?” He asked, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.

Nodding, the doctor continued, “Y/N lost a lot of blood in the attack. When you factor in the trauma of having a baby and a four-hour surgery, there’s a lot of healing that has to happen, and right now she doesn’t have the strength for it.” His phone chimed, and Spencer jolted, trying not to get his hopes up if it wasn’t about you, “Come with me,” the doctor said.

Rossi offered to let the rest of the team know and Spencer rambled off a random confirmation as he followed the doctor through the doorway, feeling like he was floating. As they walked through the hospital, Spencer grew more and more anxious.

Your hand was cold. In fact, your hand was so cold that Spencer asked the doctor to turn the volume on your vital monitor up so that he could have the constant reassurance that you were alive.

Blood was being transfused still, he had already forgotten the doctor’s estimate on just how much blood you had lost, but if he had the urge to read through your medical chart, he was sure he could find out. The only problem was, ever since the doctor left, he hadn’t been able to do anything except stare.

Every once in a while, he pinched your index finger, testing the capillary refill time out of his own morbid curiosity while blood was being returned to your body. Agents and officers stood outside of your hospital room in a steady rotation. The BAU wasn’t sure if your life was still in danger, but they weren’t willing to take any risks.

There were countless law enforcement personnel involved in this case now, if not directly investigating the case, they were at least contributing to the search. The Manassas Field Office, DC Metro, the Maryland Police – they were all out there looking. Out the window, he could see news reporters gathering out front to start their afternoon broadcasts.

It had been four hours. Four hours and there was still no word on the baby or the UnSub. The baby would need to eat soon, and Spencer found himself depending on the UnSub to have had the forethought to take care of the newborn.

Every couple of minutes, you would mumble something in your sleep, and he willed you to stay asleep. Selfishly, he wanted you to stay asleep until he knew the baby was safe – until he knew he could have something good to tell you.

Penelope was stationed right outside the door. She likely thought he hadn’t noticed her return, but the clicking of her keyboard gave her away.

Infrequently, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tried not to concern himself with it. Garcia had made contact with your mom, being sure to reach out to your family before any other news hit the airwaves.

He adjusted the way the nasal cannula rested on your face before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles and resting your cold fingers against his cheek, as if his face had the capacity to warm your whole body. Briefly, he wondered if the team would be willing to have a desk agent bring you a blanket from home.

The team would probably find a way to get him a helicopter if he requested it.

Flowers and cards flowed into your hospital room, arriving from people who knew you to people who had seen your story on the news. He had to look away when a small stuffed elephant was delivered by a nurse, knowing that the baby it belonged to was nowhere to be found.

Much to his surprise, he looked away from the stuffed animal just to find you looking back at him. The sorrow in your eyes a staggering reflection of that which could be found in his own. One glance at you and he knew that there was no need for him to break the news to you – you were well aware.

Spencer remained wholly silent as a slew of medical professionals filtered in and out of the room, a cacophony of directives and questions sent your way as tears filled your waterline. He captured your hand in both of his, holding your hand like it was a lifeline to everything he knew as the truth. He was here, you were here, and you were both alive. Tethered to you in the woven web of life, he refused to falter. Not now. Not when you needed him the most.

He answered the questions that you didn’t know the answers to and watched, tight-lipped, as your doctor kept you informed. Dr. Lasher was picking and choosing from your chart, telling you anything pertinent, and leaving out anything that she thought could wait for later.

Once the doctor had cleared through an extensive list of maladies, everyone let you have the room. “Darling,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to adjust the way your hospital gown rested on your shoulder, covering some of the exposed wires.

“There are no leads?” You asked tentatively, the pain in your voice exacerbated by the swelling caused by the breathing tube you’d had during surgery. Your eyes were glassy, and Spencer didn’t know if it was from sorrow or pain or fear. It was a question he was afraid to ask.

He shook his head, “Not yet, but everyone’s looking,” he fed you the same reassurances that had been given to him. The same reassurances that he hadn’t believed.

You moved your hands, laying your palms flat on the sterile white sheets and starting to push yourself up, only to be met with Spencer’s hands guiding you back down to the pillows. “I’ve gotta go,” you mumbled, “I wanna help. Spence, please let me help.” Fresh tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him in desperation.

The way your bottom lip quivered was what broke him, he tilted his head to the side, “You can help just fine from right here, okay?” He looked out into the hallway, wondering which member of the team was around for you to talk to. “I’ll be right back,” he told you, squeezing your hand before retreating to the hallway, never letting you out of his line of sight.

“Hey,” Penelope greeted, the compassion in her voice giving him pause, “How is she?”

Exhausted, terrified, in pain – all applicable at the moment. Spencer thought about answering for a moment before skipping Garcia’s question entirely, “Who’s around for a cognitive?”

You didn’t quite have the energy for a full interview, but you were so adamant about helping that he couldn’t refuse you, not today. “JJ’s one floor up, do you want me to call her for you?”

He thought about it for a moment, he hadn’t handled his last interaction with JJ with the most care, but you needed someone to talk to and it couldn’t be him. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Please.”

Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, smoothing your hair as he tried to comfort you. In all of the time he’d known you, he’d never need you so defeated.

Not much came out during your cognitive with JJ, either there was a mental block in the way or you hadn’t seen much when you were attacked. Whichever one it was, Spencer was fighting himself internally on whether or not he should be thankful.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured, keeping his voice low as you fought off sleep. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he cooed, “You need to rest.”

You fought sleep with everything you had in you, which wasn’t much anymore. The cognitive interview had gone too long. Your nurse was the one who put her foot down and ended it, even when you wanted to keep going. “It’s not fair,” you cried, slow tears making their way down your cheeks.

Very slowly, Spencer could feel his heart breaking as your exhaustion and desolation worked together to make you as miserable as possible, “I know, lovey. I know,” he assured you as tears filled his eyes.

Glassy eyes looked up at him, “I just wanted to be a mom,” you whispered, your speech slurred with sleep.

Letting his own tears fall to the white sheets of your hospital bed, Spencer nodded, “You are a mom.”

He didn’t add anything. He didn’t have it in him to make a grandiose speech about how you would always be your baby’s mother, and, luckily, he didn’t need to. Your eyes finally fell shut, final tears falling from your face as Spencer found himself grateful that sleep finally took you.

Never leaving your side, Spencer pulled the chair back up next to you, resting his chin on your bed's armrest and watching you sleep. Very slowly, color was beginning to return to your face, yet you still looked so different from when he had left the house that morning.

Unsure how long it had been, Spencer shot up straight when Penelope came rushing to the doorway, placing a finger to his lips, he nodded toward your sleeping form. Even so, the technical analyst waved him over.

Carefully, he slipped his hand out of yours and walked around your bed to Penelope, “What is it?”

Tears filled the blonde’s eyes as she looked up at him, she put both of her hands on his upper arms and cried, “They found your baby. It- they’re pulling up to the ambulance bay right now.”

Spencer’s lips parted in shock, having fully prepared himself for the day to end in undeniable heartbreak. “Are- is the baby okay?”

Penelope nodded, “They’re going up to the NICU right now to get checked out but apparently the EMTs said the baby looks completely unharmed.”

Turning to look at you, still asleep on the bed, Spencer gave Penelope a quick embrace before returning to your bedside, “Sweetheart,” he whispered, trying to wake you up from sleep that you still needed. “Honey,” he said, gently cupping your cheek with his hands as your eyes fluttered open.

You hummed groggily, squinting up at him under the fluorescence of the hospital.

“The baby’s here,” he murmured to you, making sure you didn’t jump up at his words. “They’re headed up to the NICU for a quick check, and-“

“Go,” you cut him off, your eyes wide and full of tears. “Please go hold them, Spence,” you cried, voice rough with sleep.

His shoulders slouched forward slightly, looking between you and Penelope in the doorway, “I’ll stay here,” Penelope offered immediately. “You go, I’ll stay.”

You nodded up at him, closing your eyes as he bent forward to press a kiss to your hairline. “I love you,” you breathed, placing a hand on your chest as if it would slow your racing heart.

“I love you too,” he responded before stepping out of the hospital room, following the directions that Penelope had given him in order to get up to the NICU.

Adrenaline made his stomach churn as he approached the NICU, wondering what he’d say to the people there until someone recognized him as The Dad. He still had to scrub his hands, but they let him through until he saw the bassinet. Even more, he saw the tiny baby kicking its legs inside of the acrylic container.

Emily stood by on high alert, ready to pounce on anyone who even looked at the baby funny, and Spencer just couldn’t stop staring. “Come here,” one of the NICU nurses said to him, obviously having been brought up to speed on the situation. With a smile on her face, she told him, “It’s a girl.”

“A girl,” he breathed, walking right up to the side of the bassinet.

The nurse nodded and adjusted the hat on her head, just slightly too big for the newborn’s head, “If you want, we can get you set up in a chair here, and you can give her a bottle.”

“Please,” he responded, earning another smile from the nurse, who had him take the crying baby in his arms before handing him the prepared bottle.

It broke his heart to watch how quickly she took to the bottle; he still wasn’t sure if she had eaten anything until this. He knew the nipple wouldn’t let her take in too much at a time, but in his subconscious, he was still worried about it being too much for her.

He rocked gently, “Hi, honey,” he cooed down at her.

“She’s a good eater,” the nurse observes, writing something down on a piece of paper. “We’ll keep an eye on her for just a little while, but we know how badly she needs to get down to her mama.”

Setting the now empty bottle down, Spencer looked up at the nurse, “Is she okay?”

The nurse nodded at his concern, “She’s on the small size, but she’s full term. Of course, not everything is going to be noticeable right away, but we did a full newborn exam on her and all of the tests say she’s a perfectly healthy baby.” She looked on as Spencer gently cupped the baby’s head, “Does she have a name?”

You and Spencer had made a deal, he would pick a boy’s name, and you would pick a girl’s name. Smiling softly, he murmured her name to her for the first time, “Genevieve,” he answered. A big name for such a small baby, maybe, but it was the name you had chosen.

He started making his way back down to you, feeling like he was floating through the taupe hallways of the hospital before he finally made it back to your room. Penelope excused herself when he emerged in the hallway.

“Spence,” you whispered, looking up at him with hope in your eyes for the first time since you had woken up after surgery.

Smiling at you, he sat on the edge of your bed, “Five pounds and fifteen ounces. Seventeen and a half inches long. Perfectly healthy.” He glanced behind him as he heard the wheels of the bassinet coming toward your room, turning back to watch your reaction as you saw your baby for the first time.

He was glad for his eidetic memory, he’d never want to forget the way your face lit up with recognition, “Oh, a girl.”

With the baby settled on your chest, there was nothing better for the two of you to do than watch her sleep. Every once in a while, she’d coo or squawk and immediately capture your every attention all over again. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked you. The blood transfusions had been completed, leaving you on a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics, fluids, and lots of pain medication – two of which prevented you from breastfeeding. Although, because of her size and traumatic birth, the NICU doctor suggested that some formula would help her grow properly.

You hummed contentedly, “Tired. I hurt just about everywhere,” you admitted, not taking your eyes off of your newborn. “I’m so… just grateful,” you whispered, “Is that odd?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I know exactly what you mean.” For as terrible and horrifying as the entire ordeal was, it could’ve been much worse. He almost lost both of his girls in one day.

“Does the team want to meet her?” You asked, worried about entertaining guests with the baby.

Spencer chuckled softly, keeping his index finger pointed within Genevieve’s reach, testing her palmar reflex, “I’m sure they do, but we’ll wait and see how you feel tomorrow and revisit. Okay?”

Your head bobbed in confirmation, watching as your daughter very slowly woke up, “Hi, Vie,” you greeted her quietly, gently rubbing her back with your fingertips. You didn’t have the strength to fully hold her, but she was more than happy to just lay on you, “Sweet, sleepy girl.”

“Do you want me to take her, and you can get some sleep?” Spencer offered, noticing the way you were trying to hide a yawn from him. “We aren’t going anywhere, we’ll stay right here in this chair,” he reassured you based on the apprehensive look you were giving him.

Slowly, you nodded, helping as best you could and pouting in sympathy when Genevieve – Vie – cried out at the sensation of being moved from her warm spot on her mother’s chest to the warm spot in her father’s arms. Thankfully, the newborn calmed down just as soon as Spencer settled her in his arms, “Don’t go,” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut as you allowed sleep to wash over you.

He hummed, “We won’t,” he muttered in response.

Sleep took you with little resistance, leaving him with Genevieve in the silence of the hospital room – save for all of the machines that you were still hooked up to.

She wouldn’t be up for much longer herself – newborns spent most of their day sleeping – so Spencer took his opportunity to watch her eyes wander around the hospital room. “You can go back to sleep too, little love. I’ll watch over the both of you,” he spoke to her in a reverent tone and adjusted the hat on her head. “I’ll keep you safe, Vie. No harm will come to you, not as long as I’m your dad.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid dilf agenda #written by margot

2K notes · View notes

m-neuvillette · 24 days ago

Text

Star Rail and Genshin men: Giving them the silent treatment

Characters: Boothill, Diluc, Jing Yuan, Lyney, Moze, Neuvillette, Sunday, Venti, Wriothesley, Yanqing

Notes: female reader, blood, injury, creepy guy in Diluc's, jealousy, drinking, Moze being Moze

Author notes: FINALLY FREE OF FINALS!!! Prepare for more posts in the future hehe. Comment if you want a pt 2 (let us know what men you want!)

Boothill

Boothill is all kinds of confused right now. After that damn profnana messed with his head, now you avoiding and not talking him has his brain in overdrive.

He doesn’t fully know what changed. March 7th told him what profnana tried to make him do to you. He really wishes he could shoot that forkin thing in the head after the shirtbag tried to make him shoot you. March 7th also said he talked about his past but he’s fine with that. So he really doesn’t get what is up with you.

You’re sitting in one of the open sitting areas Boothill has on his ship thinking about all that has happened. You met Boothill early into your journey as a galaxy ranger and were always really close with him. He helped you so much and liked being around you so he asked you to join him.

You two only grew even closer as time passed and everyone knew you were more than friends. You two only got together before the whole trip to Penacony so the relationship is still fresh. But that isn’t what’s bothering you or has you upset.

It’s about Boothill’s past. It broke your heart hearing a young Boothill talk instead of the raspy voice you’re so used to and love. As you listened to that little soft voice talk about his past, you couldn’t stop your heart from breaking. It also made you realize you don’t know much about him. You know he wants revenge on the IPC for what they did to his planet but you didn’t know what happened.

Did he not trust you as much as you thought he did? Did he only see this arrangement as convenient to help reach his goal? Does he actually have feelings for you? You don’t know and don’t know how to talk to him about it. You feel the ship go into cruise mode indicating Boothill planned the next planet and you two have time before you get there.

You can’t help but get frustrated at yourself because all you want to do is to talk to him but you don’t know how. You start to tear up while thinking about a plan when you hear him walking into the room.

Boothill was quick to set the ship to cruise so he can figure out what’s going on. Once he’s got everything lined up, he makes his way to where you are.

He sees you with your head down and your hands clenching at your pants. He instantly knows something is wrong. Boothill makes quick strides over to where you’re sitting to start figuring this out.

He stays standing and tilts your head up to see your red eyes and tear stained face. Boothill rarely gets shot but seeing you like this feels like he’s got shot hundreds of times. He lets go of your face and sits next to you and pull you into his lap. Boothill tucks your head into his neck then says, “I can’t help ya, if ya don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

You’ll pull yourself from his neck to look at him. He reaches one of his hands up to wipe your tears which makes you let out a shaky breath. You lean your forehead again his and quietly ask, “Boothill, do you not trust me? Am I a bad girlfriend?”

Boothill eyes are wide open now as he stumbles out, “Wait whaddya mean? Of course I do. I trust ya with my life. And you’re not a bad girlfriend at all. Why would you ask that?”

You look down not being able to look him in the eyes anymore and start to play with the zipper on his shirt, “When you talked about your past with that soft voice my heart broke. But it also made me realize I never got to know you.” You start to cry again but you continue to talk, “I want to know you more. I want to help you. I want you to count on me so I don’t have to hear that soft little boys voice be in pain again.”

Boothill tilts your head back up to face him. He wipes your tears then kisses your cheeks, “Baby I want nothin’ more than to share everythin’ with you. I’m sorry that’s the way you had to find everythin’ out. From now on I’ll be more open with ya. But you also gotta promise you won’t shut yourself out from me and doubt yourself. Okay? I love you.”

You look him in the eyes and respond, “I promise Boothill. I love you too.” Then you go to give him a tight hug burying yourself in his neck again. Boothill quickly returns the hug holding you tightly to him and pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

Diluc

Diluc didn’t think he could meet anyone as stubborn as Kaeya, that was before you decided to give him the silent treatment. It has been two days since your guys argument.

It all started at Angel’s Share. You asked Diluc to teach you how to make drinks so you can help him and Charles when times got busy. After a while you started working there. You love your job and everyone you get to meet. Well most people.

You love the regulars like Venti, Kaeya, and Rosaria. You also love when Lisa drags Jean here or when you meet new faces from or outside of Mondstadt. But there are a good amount of men who have been creepy towards you. You keep your work outfit simple with a white blouse and a black skirt (and sometimes Diluc’s jacket when you get cold). Whenever a man gets too creepy or tries to touch you Diluc is quick to stop the situation and kick the man out.

Your outfit isn’t that revealing. You made sure to keep the skirt at a medium length so no perverts could try to see something they shouldn’t. You also keep your chest covered so again no perverts could be weird. But sadly it’s only been getting worse lately and it’s making you stressed.

One night Diluc couldn’t get to Angel’s Share until later in the evening due to a meeting he had to be at. You are perfectly fine working with Charles and love talking to him when times are slow. Tonight is pretty slow but a couple groups needed refills so you offered to do it so Charles can stay behind the bar and continue his conversation with Kaeya.

You walk over to the group in the far back corner and see all the men drunk. You roll your eyes before tending to them. You ask if they would like anymore drinks but all they respond with is that they want you to warm them up. You ask again if they want DRINKS but none of them say yes so you begin to walk away. As you do one of the sleazy guys grabs your wrist and pulls you back. He starts to say something but that is before you see a tanned hand grabbing the guys wrist. You look up to see Kaeya glaring at the man.

“Let go of her now and get the hell out of here.” The men quickly follow Kaeya’s order and he follows them out making sure they don’t try to come back in. When he’s outside he sees Diluc walking towards him and says a little hello. Diluc quickly asks what happened and Kaeya relays the story. Diluc gets visibly mad and stomps inside to go find you. Once he does he grabs your hand and has you follow him to a spare room upstairs.

He gives you his jacket and asks if you are okay and if the guy did anything to you. You say you’re okay and that he didn’t do anything. Diluc shakes his head and tells you to stop working here and that you don’t have to work because he can fully support the both of you. You argue back saying you’re going to continue working here whether or not he likes it or not. Then march out of the bar leaving him behind.

Diluc then quickly follows you after telling Charles he’s got to go. He also turns to Kaeya and begrudgingly thanks him and leaves. Kaeya knows you two got into an argument but he definitely knows you aren’t too mad because you left still wearing his jacket.

After you thought about it for two days you realized you overreacted. You barely let him explain why he thought about you stopping now you feel bad because you haven’t spoke to him in three days. So you sat down in front of the fire waiting for him to get back from his Dark Knight Hero patrol.

Diluc walks into his mansion expecting it to be pitch black but he sees you sitting in front of a fire. He sets his sword by the entrance then makes his way over to you.

He kneels in front of you and breaks the silence, “Hey, everything okay? Did you have a nightmare, is that why you’re down here?”

Oh this man even when you’re giving him the silent treatment he is still asking if you’re okay. You shake your head and respond, “No I was waiting for you to apologize.” You brush his bangs out of his eyes, “I’m sorry Diluc. I overreacted and didn’t let you explain why you wanted me to stop. I just want to help you and not sit around here all day. Plus working at the bar with you is so fun. I get to see you in a whole different light and I love it. I don’t want to let go of that.”

Diluc gives you a smile and reaches for your hand and gives it a tight squeeze, “No pretty girl it’s me who should be apologizing. I’m sorry for getting so mad, I just hate seeing you get harassed. It also didn’t help Kaeya was the one to help you and not me. But you don’t have to stop. Just every time you work I want to be there so I can stop it or prevent it.”

You smile down at him and squeeze his hand, “That is perfectly okay with me. I have more fun working with you anyways, sorry Charles. I love you Diluc.”

Diluc smiles and brings your hand to his lips to give your knuckles a soft kiss and replies without hesitation, “I love you too.”

Jing Yuan

You thought you believed the phrase “wisdom comes with age” because that is Jing Yuan in his entirety. But now? You are starting to doubt that very much, because it’s not very wise to have wise to have an old friend spear you to take out an enemy now is it?

While you do understand that everyone was ready to defeat Phantylia at any cost, you really didn’t think that Jing Yuan would try to sacrifice himself in the process. Did he even think at all during that moment? Let alone think about how he’d leave you behind? You’ve already been left behind by so many people, and Jing Yuan knows all about how that’s affected you. So why would he try to leave you behind too?

When Jing Yuan first comes back after the fight was over, his first priority was to see you. He wanted to make sure you were okay, and he wanted to make sure that you didn’t find out about his little stunt against the Lord Ravager. He didn’t want you to worry about him. But unfortunately for him, March 7th found you first and told you all about the fight, including Dan Heng hurling his spear through him.

To say you were upset and fuming might have been the understatement of the century, because as soon as he came into your line of sight you were glaring daggers at him. Yanqing had been right next to you when Jing Yuan came up to you and he could feel the anger coming off of you so he turned around and ran off before he got caught in the middle of a “lover’s quarrel” as the General called them.

“GOOD LUCK GENERAL DON’T DIE!” Yanqing gave his best regards to the General before scampering off to avoid your rage. Jing Yuan tilted his head amusedly before fully looking at your expression. “Now what could have you this angry, my dear?” If it was even possible you narrowed your eyes even further and harshly grabbed his wrist and dragged him to your shared home.

The entire time you were dragging him tears were burning in your eyes because even though you are behind thrilled that Jing Yuan is safe and sound you can’t help but think that he wanted to leave you behind too, just like everyone else. “My dear, can I request that you be a little less harsh, your grip is beginning to hurt my wrist? Also, may I know what is troubling you so much? You know you can confide in my right my dear?”

When he said that you had reached his room and you dragged him to the nearest chair and shoved him in it, while also being careful not to aggravate his glaringly obvious injury. When you lift up his shirt to take a look at the injury and once you see the blood seeping through the bandages, you take a minute to take a deep breath before finally talking to him.

“Jing Yuan, tell me were you really trying to leave me behind too? Why would you ever think that having your old friend throw his spear through you to defeat an enemy is alright?! Don’t you always teach Yanqing to not be reckless?? What you did goes against those teachings don’t you think?! Please, I’m begging you, tell me why you thought that was the best course of action? Did you even think at all? Let alone about leaving me behind, like everyone else has?!”

Jing Yuan’s eyes widen in alarm before he’s trying to get up to comfort you. “Don’t you even think about getting up Jing Yuan! Do you want to make your injury worse?” At that he say right back down and responded sitting down. “My dear let it be known that what I did was the only option that we had to defeat that Lord Ravager, lest I become a Mara Struck. That, my dear, would’ve been much worse a fate than I would ever allow you to witness. I am deeply sorry for worrying you, know this, I will never leave you behind, not if I can help it. Though as an Arbiter General you just realize that I cannot choose my death as freely as others can.”

You turn around after he finishes and he realizes that you had been crying this entire time. “I know that Jing Yuan’s, I knew that the second I got into this relationship with you that your life as an Arbiter General was not going to lead to a pretty death, but sacrificing yourself like you did is beyond me! What would the Luofu do without you? What would I do without you?? Please just don’t leave me behind, I can’t take anyone else leaving me.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes soften and he beckons you to come closer to him. As soon as you reach him he’s standing up and wrapping his arms round you and kissing your forehead. “My dear I will never leave you, not of my own accord and that I swear on my life. I am deeply sorry for any pain I have caused during this time. When I am fully healed I intend to make this up to you to the best of my abilities.” You gently wrap your arms around him and place your head on his chest. “I will hold you to that my darling, I love you so much.” He smiles softly down at you before leaning his head on top on your head. “And I love you so much more dearest.”

The next day Yanqing giggled and smiled smugly before remarking with hand gestures and all. “I see the General lived through yet another ‘lover’s quarrel’. Nice job General, I’m impressed, can I have a few pointers?” Jing Yuan looked at him with the most deadpan expression before smiling softly and telling Yanqing to get back to training.

Lyney

A magician’s charm is like no other, that is the first thing you learned when you met Lyney. And it became even more prominent when you got into a relationship with him. His charm is his best quality and it attracts so many people, including unwanted gazes of new assistants of his.

As his popularity as a magician was increasing, Lyney decided that he should get a few more assistants to make his shows run more smoothly. And you are perfectly fine with him getting more assistants, after all that that’s how you two met. But this new assistant he chose is getting in every last one on your nerves, because who is she to flirt nonstop and try to get to get with your magician, when it is incredibly obvious that you two are together?

While you are helping prep for Lyney’s next show, it seems that the new assistant, Louise as you’ve unfortunately come to learn, is yet again all over Lyney. Instead of actually preparing the necessary materials for the show, Louise is clinging to Lyney’s and asking about a million questions about completely random topics. Everyone in the room can see that Louise has the hots for Lyney, his magician’s charm seems to work wonders, must to your dismay.

Even though he has a show to prep for and he has a girlfriend, Lyney doesn’t try to stop Louise and her antics at all, he even answers all of her random questions. It’s quite disheartening to see your boyfriend have another girl all over him and him not stop any of those advances, it makes it look like he doesn’t have a girlfriend when he actually does.

“Oh Lyney! What are you going to have for dinner after this? Do you want to go get dinner together? I’d love to have dinner with you!” You had to walk away to keep yourself from gagging at her horrible flirting. Though you stopped when you heard Lyney’s chuckle in response. “Oh my dear, what a most generous offer that is indeed! I have yet to make plans for dinner, but I will get back to you on my thoughts on dinner after this show, so wait for me alright?”

When you heard him say that your heart broke and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall from your eyes. Was he really going to have dinner with another girl, when having dinner with you, Lynette, and Freminet, has been your tradition since you guys were in your “courting stage” as Lyney loved to call it.

Lynette, who saw the whole interaction, was also very stunned that Lyney was entertaining the thought of having dinner with someone else. She walked up to Lyney and told him that the show was starting soon and that he needed to get on stage and then immediately went to find you. When she found you, you were sitting on one of the boxes that was backstage hugging your knees to your chest and your head buried on top of them. Lynette could tell that you had heard what Lyney said and walked up to you.

“Hey, I heard what that idiot said, just try not to take it to heart I guess. He’s not one to let people know they’re bothering him. If I had to guess he’s, probably, going to turn her down after the show. If it’s any consolation, I am also mad that he would ditch us for that idiot of a girl.” You look up at Lynette while she talks and silently nod your head in agreement.

After the show ended, the first thing Lyney did was look for you because you were always waiting backstage with a hug and a kiss for him. When he didn’t immediately see you when he walked off stage, he was very confused because you had never missed your routine hug and kiss, it’s become a tradition for you two. While he is looking for you, Louise clings onto his arm and begins questioning him about dinner again. He looks down at her and says that he’s looking for you and that he can’t talk right now. Louise let’s go at that and walks away.

Once Lyney finds you, he realizes that you haven’t moved since the show began. “Hello there, my dove! Let us go home now shall we?” You look up at him silently and get off the box you were sitting on and begin walking out. Lyney’s eyes widen in alarm once he sees the dried streaks of tears on your face and when you start walking he rushes to grab your hand.

“Oh my dearest dove, what could have you crying?” You shake your head and continue walking, because you can’t handle talking to him right now. Not after him basically accepting to eat dinner with another girl. He decides to leave it alone until you get home because that is the best place to discuss what happened. Once you two get to your home, you fumble with the key to unlock the door and more tears begin to fall out of your eyes in frustration.

Lyney sees this and gently grabs the key out of your hand and unlocks the door. He grabs your hand and pulls you to your shared room, so that you two can sort all of this out in private. Once you reach your room you let go of his hand and sit on the bed and pull your knees to your chest again and look away from Lyney. His eyes soften and he walks around to the other side of the bed and wraps his arms around you.

“My dove, what is it that’s troubling you? Please talk to me, I want to help you but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what the problem is.” You shake your head and mumble “it’s nothing, just go have dinner with Louise.” His eyes widen again before he realizes that you must’ve hear him and Louise talking about dinner before the show.

“Oh my dearest dove, I was never going to entertain her and have dinner with her. I just didn’t want to create animosity before the show, though you have my deepest apologies for even saying that I could have dinner with her. I will never have dinner with anyone but you, Lynette, and Freminet. You have my word on that, I promise. So please forgive me for making you cry.”

You look up at him and swiftly wrap your arms around him and bury your head in his chest. “Please never do that again, I don’t think my heart could take it. I love you too much for you to do that.” He lightly kisses the top of your head before responding, “my dearest I love you more than you could possibly know.”

Let’s just say that he got an earful from Lynette when it was time for dinner, because no way was he ever eating with anyone eot on her watch.

Moze

Birthday presents are surprises. At least that’s how they’re supposed to be. Moze does not seem to understand this, not at all. Moze’s birthday was coming up and you wanted to surprise him, but could he let that happen? No apparently he could not, and he just had to spoil your surprise.

His birthday was coming up and you wanted to surprise him and get him a new custom dagger, you thought he would really like it. So when you decided what to get him, you got up extra early that morning and slipped out of your shared bed to go to the blacksmith. You made sure you were extra quiet so you didn’t wake Moze up and spoil your surprise.

When you finally made it to the blacksmith and made your order you decided to walk around and get some food. The dagger wouldn’t be ready until later that week so you had a lot of time on your hands. You decided to bring some food back for Moze and when you got back to your shared home he appeared out of nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack.

“Moze seriously you got to stop appearing out of nowhere like that, you’re going to give me a heart attack one day.” He softly laughs and wraps his arms around you. “Where’d you run off to this early in the morning my love? You never get up this early.” You panic internally for a moment before you remember that you got food too, so you don’t have to worry about spoiling his surprise. “I went and got some food for us for breakfast, I woke up early and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I thought why not get some food?” He takes that answer and leave it at that.

Later that week you had to go pick up the dagger again, conveniently it was the day of Moze’s birthday. That day you got up early once more and snuck out of bed to go pick up his present. Though little did you know that when Moze woke up not long after he was surprised to not find you in bed once again, 2 times in one week? That’s suspicious, so he wanted to make sure you were okay, so he decided to go look for you.

He was looking all around the Yaoqing and he found you outside a blacksmith holding and admiring a dagger. What could you possibly need with a dagger? He decided to walk up to you to ask you about it and once he was in front of you, you about jumped out of your skin. “Moze! I swear please stop appearing out of nowhere!” You also realize that you have the dagger on full display so you quickly hide it behind your back.

“Now why are you hiding a dagger behind your back my love? That’s dangerous you know.” You then realize that he caught you red handed and quickly put the dagger in the bag you had along with the little card you made inside and shove it in his hands and run off. He stands there stunned at the fact that you just ran away, but before following you he looked inside the bag that you had given him. It held the dagger and a cute little note that said “Happy Birthday Moze! I love you” with a little heart next to it. He then realized that today was indeed his birthday and he came to the realization that he spoiled your gift for him.

When he finds you after he looked at your gift, you are in your shared room on the bed with your head between your knees silently crying, though he could still hear it, it is Moze after all. He quickly puts the bag on the nightstand and gets on the bed and pulls you into his lap. “My dearest love you have my deepest apologies for spoiling your gift for me. I wanted to make sure you were okay since you left so early but that does not excuse me from spoiling your surprise. Please forgive me my love.”

You look up at him teary eyed and bury your face in his neck. “You really don’t get the point of surprises do you, please try not to be so nosy around your birthday next year. I love you too much to have your birthday surprise spoiled.” He laughs softly before gently taking your head out of his neck and softly kissing your lips. “And I love you, I’ll try not to be so nosy next year, though I did forget it was my birthday in all fairness.” Your jaw drops at that and you realize that you have a new story to tell Jiaoqiu and Feixiao.

Let’s just say you three did not let him live down forgetting his own birthday, but you did it by giving him the best birthdays ever. Though when you told Jiaoqiu and Feixiao about all of this, Moze was lectured for hours on how to not ruin a surprise.

Neuvillette

Neuvillette is stressed. He doesn’t completely get “the silent treatment”. Why is it even a thing? Don’t humans love communicating? So why do they do this to themselves?

Furina watches in amusement seeing all the gears in Neuvillette’s turn trying to figure out why you’re giving him the silent treatment. You went to her to talk about how much he’s been working and it feels like he doesn’t even try to make time for you two anymore. She told you to talk to him about it because that’s the only way it’s ever going to get fixed. Little did she know it was going to make everything worse.

You went to talk to Neuvillette about it that night after you talked with Furina and he completely brushed it off. All he said was “What do you mean? Aren’t we spending time together now? We do this every night, get ready together and go to bed. That’s spending time together.”

You try to explain that you want to do more than that. You want to go on a date with him, you want to go on a walk, or even just stay in and cuddle. All he said back was “As the Iudex I am quite busy and you know that.” Then went to bed. Since then you’ve been ignoring him and going to bed before he gets home so now his routine is thrown off and he hates it.

Furina speaks up, “My dear Iudex what is troubling you?”

Neuvillette looks up at Furina and asks “Why am I getting the silent treatment? I don’t get it”

“Well Neuvillette, do you make time for her? Do you take her on dates? Do you get her flowers? Do you show her you love her?”

Neuvillette clears his throat and looks away, “Um… no…”

“Here lies your problem. It’s like how you make time every week to have a tea party with me and relax. Or catch up with Sigewinne. You’re not making time for your girlfriend you claim to love.”

Neuvillette sits there and reflects on this. He looks at Furina and says, “I must go. I have to fix this.”

Furina smiles and dismisses him as he walks out she calls out to him, “There’s no cases today so take the rest of the day off. But you have to start planning this stuff on your own.” Neuvillette shakes his head and leaves his office.

He stops on his way back home to get you flowers and some baked goods. Neuvillette arrives home and looks for you. He sees you and walks towards where you’re sitting in the bay window.

You’re shocked when you see Neuvillette home so early and then you see what’s in his hands. He has flowers and baked treats.

Neuvillette reaches you and begins to ramble, “My love I am so sorry. I didn’t put into perspective your feelings and how you want to spend more time with me. Which you 100% deserve because we are in a relationship and as a good boyfriend I must be present and make time for you. So after today I am going to make more time for you. I mean well it starts today as well because I am taking you out for dinner tonight. But in the mean time enjoy these flowers and treats I got you. I promise I won’t ever do this again. I love you so much.”

You watch and Neuvillette catches his breath after that long declaration but it makes you smile. You scoot over and make room for him to sit next to you. You pat the cushion and he is quick to listen and sit next to you. You grab the flowers and treats and put them to the other side of you.

You turn to give your full attention to Neuvillette. You reach out your hands and cup his face, “Thank you Neuvillette, that means a lot to me. I can’t wait for the date tonight and for many other moments together. I love you so much.” You go to give him a kiss which he quickly returns and pulls you closer to him.

Once you two break apart you stare lovingly at each other. Neuvillette vows to himself he will never have this happen again because he HATES the silent treatment.

Sunday

You’ve known Sunday and Robin since you were kids. The three of you were always playing together and created some unforgettable memories. Robin could tell yours and Sunday’s feelings grew into something stronger as you three got older. She made it her mission to get you two together before she left Penacony which she was successful with.

You laugh at her determination now but it also breaks your heart. You are Sunday’s girlfriend but you never knew what he was planning and what he was going through. You can’t help but blame yourself a little bit with not being able to stop him. But you’ve heard he’s out of confinement and planning on leaving. Is he really leaving you behind again? Can he not say goodbye? You look at the stars and wonder what will happen.

You hear a cautious hello behind you which makes you turn around. You see a young man with gray hair and a girl with pink and blue hair. You recognize them being the nameless that helped Penacony. “Why hello you two. I’m sorry I don’t remember your names could you remind me?”

The girl introduced herself as March 7th and the young man introduced himself as Caelus. March then asks, “Miss you’re Sunday’s girlfriend right?”

You smile at her, “Yes I am. I am sorry for all the trouble Sunday has caused you. Only if I knew I could have tried to stop him. But if you’re here to ask where he is, I don’t know. I just know he’s leaving and he could have left.”

March quick responds, “Oh we aren’t looking for him. We were curious if you would like to come with us? Like back to the Astral Express? We want to invite you to become a Nameless if you would want to.”

You think about the offer and quickly agree because you don’t exactly have a purpose right now. This can give you what you’re looking for.

March and Caelus took you back to the express where they showed you around and introduced you to Himeko, Dan Heng, and Pom Pom. Himeko tells you everyone has agreed to make you a Namless and that Welt is bringing someone else back to see if the Express wants them as a Nameless. To kill time you sit with March and Caelus.

You hear the door open and you see Welt and someone walking behind him. The person feels so familiar. March and Caelus stand up and walk over which you follow them. You stand behind them listening to Welt catch everyone up. Then you see him walk out from behind Welt. The man you dreamed of seeing since this whole disaster started.

Everyone begins to vote and say yes. Sunday looks happy but Pom Pom is quick to say, “Well we haven’t heard from our other new recruit. What do you think?” You step out from Caelus and March and make eye contact with Sunday and he sucks in a breath. “Yes I agree. He should become a Namless.” Everyone smiles and cheers for Sunday but he is frozen in place.

As soon as you and Sunday recite the creed you quickly go off ignoring Sunday. He tries to reach out for you but he realizes it’s futile. He knows he messed up. Welt comes up behind him and places a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t give up so fast. You’re on a new journey, don’t you want her on it? Go and talk to her.”

Sunday quickly follows where he saw you go and sees you looking at the stars. He takes a deep breath and walks over to stand next to you, “Aren’t they beautiful? They’re real and not fake ones. I’ve grown to learn that someday we will wake up from our dreams and have to face reality. I know that better than anyone now. After saying goodbye to Penacony and Robin I realized that I must start a new path. I regret not finding you first. You’ve always been in my path, dreams, future, anything really. I am lucky the Nameless are giving me this chance to fix everything. My angel I am so sorry. I should have went to you first, but I just thought about how I shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with a criminal and someone that went on the wrong path.” He starts to tear up, “Aeons I cannot imagine a life without you. I want you in my life and I want to take this next step with you. I am truly and deeply sorry for all I have caused. I love you so much. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore but just know if you give me another chance I’ll do everything in my power to prove to you I will change.”

You turn to face him and start to cry looking at his tears. You dive right into his chest and hold onto him tight. He quickly wraps his arms around you and cries with you. You missed this, you missed him. Sunday’s familiar scent is home to you.

You hiccup, “Sunday, Sunday” you grip him tighter. “I don’t care if you’re criminal. I don’t care if you walked the wrong path. I want you. Yes it hurt that you didn’t say goodbye but I know that it isn’t necessary because anywhere you go, I’ll follow. I’ll always be right with you because I love you so much. I want nothing more than to continue this Nameless journey with you.”

Sunday takes a deep breath and buries his face in your neck and plants light kisses on your neck. Between kisses he thanks you and promises you it will always be you and him.

Venti

When you’ve been alive as long as Venti has, you tend to not forget things you find precious or important. At least that’s what you had come to think. But now you are starting to doubt that. Because why else would you be sitting in front of Windrise for hours all by yourself, with all the picnic essentials, and no sign of your lovely bard showing up, if he didn’t forget?

When it started to get dark you decided that you had waited long enough for Venti to show up and made your way back to the city. When you walked through the gates you run into Rosaria, which was a pleasant surprise because you only really see her when you go to Angel’s Share with Venti.

“Oh, hey there Rosaria! How are you doing tonight?” She tilts her head at you and looks at you a little confusedly, “huh I’m surprised you aren’t at Angel’s Share with that bard tonight. He’s never there without you anymore, something happen between you two?” Now it’s your turn to look at her confused because what does she mean Venti is at Angel’s Share tonight?

“Rosaria, what do you mean? He’s at Angel’s Share right now?” You then mumble to yourself “that would explain why he didn’t come to Windrise for our picnic date then I guess.” Her eyes widen just a fraction before she narrows them. “You’re telling me he skipped out on your date to go drinking with Kaeya, what a lousy guy.”

You let that all sink in before tears start forming in your eyes at the realization that you were in fact ditched by your beloved. You let your head fall before you quietly tell Rosaria that you’re going to go home now.

When you get to yours and Venti’s shared home you place the picnic basket on the counter and you immediately go to your shared room. You change out of your clothes and hop into your bed, and it doesn’t take long for the tears to pour out of your eyes. Next thing you know you hear Venti walk into the room, and you don’t even want to know how long it’s been but you’re awake now but facing away from the door.

When he gets into bed you realize that you are now facing him and you will yourself to go back to sleep, because you don’t want to cry anymore tonight. When he fully settles into bed he softly looks at you and notices that you’re awake and softly whispers to you.

“Well hello there my windblume, what has you up at this hour? Sleep is important you know.” He reaches to cup your face and when he rubs his finger across your cheek he realizes that it’s kinda of wet. “Oh my windblume, whatever could have you crying?” He pulls you into his chest, and you immediately try to pull out of his hold and turn around.

He looks at you quizzically because you have never pulled away from him before. Did he upset you in some way? “My dearest, please talk to me, I wish to know what is upsetting you. Allow me to be the one you confide in my windblume.” You sigh before whispering softly, because that’s all you can manage without crying again.

“Venti do you remember what we planned to do today? Am I really that forgettable? That you would stand me up on our picnic date that we’ve been planning for weeks? Was drinking with Kaeya really more important than our picnic?” Venti’s face pales at what you said because he realizes that he totally forgot about your guys’ date.

“Oh my dearest windblume, no apology could ever be worth your forgiveness and tears. But please allow me to apologize all the same, I have no excuse for forgetting our date. Please allow me to make it up to you in any way possible, I’d even do the impossible for you because that is what you are worth. I hope you can find it within your heart to forgive me for this transgression but I know that an apology alone will not suffice. My beloved I am truly sorry.”

Venti then wraps his arms around your waist and gently kisses the top of your head. You sigh softly and turn around in his embrace, hug him tightly, and bury your head in his chest. “Please never forget about me again my beloved bard, I couldn’t stand it ever again.” He takes one hand from around your waist and brings it to tilt your head up towards him and he gently kisses your lips. “Never again my beloved muse, I will never forget you again.”

Let’s just say from that point on you guys were practically glued to each other, you could never find one of you without the other, and that’s just how everyone came to know and love Venti the bard and his muse.

Wriothesley

The strong and formidable Duke is passionate in his job. Maybe sometimes a little too much for your liking. Which is why you are shocked to hear from a guard that a big brawl broke out and your boyfriend was in the middle of it and didn’t leave unscathed.

You went up to the surface to get some quick refills of some supplies you and Sigewinne needed before the bigger supply would come to the fortress. After hearing the news you quickly run to the fortress to see the wounded and you can tell the guys that were on the receiving end of your boyfriend. But you don’t see the man in question here.

Sigewinne sees you come in and walks to meet you. “If you’re wondering where His Grace is, he isn’t here. I think he went to his office after the brawl. Go to him and I’ll stay here.” You nod and tell her to send a guard if she needs your help.

You walk to his office and smile at the guards and tell them not to come in. You hear grunts coming from upstairs knowing he is in pain. You head up the stairs and see him on his chair. You walk to one of the cabinets and grab the mini first aid kit you kept in here for situations like these. It only makes your blood boil now.

You got the kit and walk over to Wriothesley. You take a good look at his bruised face, split lip, blood dripping from his eyebrows, and scraped up knuckles. You see his nicely done hair flattened against his forehead and his nice dress clothes out of place. Then you see his bright blue eyes staring right at you. Wriothesley smirks at you, “It was a rough one wasn’t it haha.”

You glare at him and unbutton his bloodied gray vest so he isn’t wearing bloodied clothes, “Ohhh so that’s what you want. You wanna have some fun sweetheart?”

You glare at him again and take off the vest. Then grab the kit and start working on his face. You clean up the blood and put some bandages on his face then some ointment on his split lip. “Hey leave some scars, gotta scare the prisoners somehow.”

Once again you sent him a glare, “Wow that’s a death glare. Wait why aren’t you talking?” What a real funny question, he promised you last time he wouldn’t take on a big brawl again. But he obviously didn’t keep that promise. It makes you angry and upset. You just want him to stay safe, is that too much to ask?

You reach for his left hand start to clean and bandage it. You then switch to his right hand and can’t stop the tears that fall. Which fall right onto his knuckle which makes his freak. “Hey wait why are you crying? Sweetheart come on please look at me.” He grabs your chin and sees your tear stained eyes. “Talk to me please. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

You sniffle and let more tears fall, “You broke your promise. You told me you wouldn’t take on a brawl by yourself again. Wriothesley I get you’re the Duke but seriously hold yourself in a higher regard. You are still a person and don’t deserve to be beaten up to stop a fight. You have people that can help you break it up. It’s not your burden to carry all by yourself. Don’t you care about your body? Because I do. I care SO much. I don’t want to see your beautiful face beaten up and your nice clothes ripped and bloodied. It breaks my heart and I can’t keep seeing you like this.”

Wriothesley stops, wait were you breaking up with him? “Sweetheart please don’t break up with me. I know I promise, and I’m very sorry I broke it. I’m the Duke and I want to send a message and not have my men get hurt over stuff I can handle on my own. I truly promise from now on I’ll go into these situations better. I’ll bring extra men just archons don’t break up with me. I love you so much it hurts.”

You think he misinterpreted the last thing you said but at least this promise seems like one he won’t break. You smile at him, “I’m not breaking up with you handsome. You misunderstood.” You brush your hands through his hair, “I just don’t like seeing you hurt. I like seeing your handsome face free of blood and bruises. I love you so much too Wriothesley.”

Wriothesley smiles up at you and pulls you toward him and slots his lips with yours. You feel like with this kiss he’s sealing your promise.

Yanqing

Yanqing is not only recovering from his little run in with Blade and Dan Heng but is now having a crisis because you’re ignoring him for some reason?? He tried to ask Jing Yuan why you were avoiding him, but he was like “I don’t know Yanqing, I think you need to solve your little lover’s quarrel by yourself.”

To say he was bewildered might have been an understatement. All he wanted to do after he was thoroughly beat up by an infamous Stellaron Hunter and the previous High Elder was to just be in your presence and have you tend to his wounds because you always did it better than he ever could.

So here you sit, all by yourself, in the Exalting Sanctum, trying to calm yourself down. You just can’t believe that Yanqing would try to recapture one of the Stellaron Hunters, when he knows just how dangerous they are, and all by himself on top of that.

When you had first heard that Yanqing had gone off on his own accord to try to recapture Blade, it wasn’t even from Yanqing himself, rather from the seat of Divine Foresight himself. To say you were bewildered and just plain terrified was probably an understatement, because Blade is a very dangerous criminal with a high bounty on his head. Why would Yanqing try to go after him by himself for starters and without an order from Jing Yuan??

When he first got back after Jing Yuan told him to take his leave, he finds you sitting in Exalting Sanctum all by yourself looking quite upset. His first thought is that someone bothered you but when he reached where you were sitting all he got was a very harsh glare.

“Hey there my dear, what’s got you so upset? Did someone bother you?” You glare at him even harder once you see his injuries and stand up and huff before grabbing his hand and dragging him to your home. Yanqing can tell that you are very clearly upset but he can’t seem to figure out why, because you have never been this mad before. You drag him to your room where you kept your medical supplies and push him to sit on your bed, and you were not that gentle with it.

He winces at the sting it causes his injuries when you push him and you glare harder at the floor. You grab your little medical kit that you have, for times just like this, and begin on working tending to his injuries. He looks at you quizzically, because by now you would have said something, anything at all in response to him, and he is growing more confused and nervous by the second, because was it something he did?

The silence between you two lasts for a little longer until he speaks up and asks “hey, did I do something wrong? Did I upset you somehow? Please just talk to me?” You look up and glare at him again before silently getting back to his injuries, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re angry or because you were so nervous for his safety, but you realize that your hands are shaking.

Yanqing soon realizes this too and his eyes widen in alarm. “Wait, why are you shaking? Please tell me what’s wrong and I’ll do all I can to fix it, please, please just talk to me!” You begin to fumble with the last of his bandages and as soon as he sees that he grabs your hands with one of his and your face with the other. You look up at him and it doesn’t take long for you to break, tears start forming in your eyes before you’re spilling what’s bothering you.

“Yanqing how could you think that going after a Stellaron Hunter all by yourself was a good idea?? Do you have any idea how worried I was when Jing Yuan told me that you went off on your own with no orders?? Blade is such a dangerous person and you thought that the best course of action was to go off on your own and try to recapture him?? You could’ve avoided getting these injuries, don’t you know that?? It hurts me every time that I have to tend to your injuries because I know you’re out there getting hurt everyday and there’s nothing I can do about it! That’s why I’m upset Yanqing because I hate seeing you hurt!”

To say Yanqing was stunned was an understatement, because he was the reason you were upset? How could he have let that happen? “Wait, I’m so sorry my dear I never meant to upset you. I just wanted to prove myself and recapture the Stellaron Hunter after he escaped, I know he’s dangerous but I thought I could do it. I’m sorry for overlooking your feelings when I get hurt, please forgive me.”

Your eyes soften before you take your hands gently out of his and wrap your arms around him. “I forgive you Yanqing, please just stop being reckless alright?” His arms immediately come to wrap around you before he buries his head into your stomach. “I promise I’ll try to be less reckless, my dear.”

Let’s just say that from that point on Jing Yuan was impressed when he noticed that Yanqing got just a little less reckless, and he mentally thanked you for that.

#boothill x reader #sunday x reader #jing yuan x reader #moze x reader #yanqing x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #diluc x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #venti x reader #lyney x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

1K notes · View notes

amirasainz · 4 months ago

Note

Can you do the leclerc brothers with sister reader and she’s like the joy of their life, kinda like the bond with amira sainz and Carlos but with the leclerc?

Of course!!! I find this is such a cute request.

Enjoy reading and send me requests!!!

-XoXo

Little Sunshine

It was no secret among the paddock that the four Leclerc siblings shared an exceptionally close bond. It was also widely known that the three older brothers—Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur—were fiercely protective of their younger sister, YN. At just 19 years old, she was not only the youngest in their family but also the only girl, creating a perfect recipe for three overprotective brothers.

There had already been numerous occasions where the brothers had demonstrated that their sister was the center of their universe, and they would go to any lengths to ensure her happiness and safety. ANYTHING!

One particularly heartwarming moment occurred during the Silverstone Grand Prix. During this GP, the cameras captured a scene that made fans fall in love with the Leclerc family all over again. As it was raining cats and dogs outside, the Free Practice session had been red-flagged. The FIA deemed it too dangerous for the drivers to continue in such treacherous conditions. Consequently, all the drivers were confined to the garage. While most of them were engrossed in reviewing data with their engineers, taking a brief respite, or chatting with their loved ones via FaceTime, there was one notable exception: Monsieur Charles Leclerc.

Instead of poring over data with his race engineer, Charles was seated on a chair, surrounded by an impressive array of hair care products. His lovely sister YN sat in front of him, comfortably perched on a cushion, completely absorbed in a book. The cameras captured the look of intense concentration on Charles’ face. What astonished the fans the most wasn’t that no one interrupted them, but that Charles was able to execute a top-notch hair care routine for his sister’s beautiful hair with seemingly effortless precision.

Later on, when the media inquired why he didn’t engage in the same activities as the other drivers during the red flag, he responded with a nonchalant expression, “My sister has beautiful hair, and my mama is a hairdresser. Naturally, I know that her hair requires special attention during such heavy rain. I don’t even understand why you’re asking such a silly question.” Safe to say that the fans loved the sassy respons from their PR trained King

Another fan-favorite moment occurred during one of Charles’ vlogs. The Leclerc family is renowned for their cherished boat trips during the summer, and this year was no exception. The memorable incident took place while Joris was busy filming Charles, who was enthusiastically explaining some part of the boat near his two younger siblings, who were both basking in the sun. With his face turned to the camera, Charles was blissfully unaware of his older brother Lorenzo sneaking up behind him. The camera began to shake from Joris’ silent laughter. As Charles continued his explanation, Lorenzo crept closer and closer to his unsuspecting siblings. And then it happened.

One moment Charles was mid-sentence, and the next, he was unceremoniously thrown overboard into the water. Before anyone could fully process what had happened, Lorenzo had already scooped up Arthur and tossed him in next to Charles, who was now simultaneously complaining and laughing. It was anticipated that Lorenzo would also pick up their sister and throw her in with their brothers. But that’s not what transpired. Instead, Lorenzo carefully lifted his sister and carried her to the railing. He gently set her down and descended the stairs himself first, stopping on the last step.

“Careful, ma puce, the stairs are a bit slippery,” he cautioned her. Instantly, Charles and Arthur halted their water fight, now also keeping a vigilant eye on YN. With Lorenzo’s assistance, which she didn’t even need, and under the watchful eyes of her other brothers, she safely entered the water. Now it was her turn to initiate the water fight, easing the tension that had briefly filled the air. However, her brothers remained close to her, ready to offer support in case she grew tired of swimming and needed a break. And Joris? He was busy laughing his butt off the entire time.

Another memorable moment took place during the Vegas GP. Like any other American GP, this one was packed with celebrities. Being the supportive sister she is, YN attended the GP with her older brother Arthur to cheer on Charles.

While Charles was out there racing, the well-known actor Timothée Chalamet decided to shoot his shot with the pretty Monegasque girl. “Hey. What do yo—” Before he could even finish his sentence, he was met with the disapproving face of Arthur Leclerc. The youngest brother looked him up and down, raised an eyebrow, and uttered a single, final word: “No.”

Arthur then moved his sister away from Timothée’s sight and engaged her in a conversation about the new Vogue magazine she had bought that day. YN, who didn’t even realize what had just transpired, was more than happy to discuss her favorite fashion magazine.

It’s safe to say that even a blind person could see the immense love and protective instincts the three brothers have for their sister.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lorenzo leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x redaer #leclerc!sister #leclerc!reader #lando norris x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #pierre gasly x reader #max verstappen x reader #-XoXo #xoxo babygirl 💋

1K notes · View notes

biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 8 months ago

Note

asking without shame.. SOL NSFW HCS PLEASEEE 🙏🙏

Sehnsucht (Sol x MC/Reader - NSFW HCs)

I see you horny motherfuckers in my Sol HCs likes, don't think you can hide from me silly billy. <333

Anyway, you're in a established relationship with Sol, so rejoice.

The smutfic will be out after my exams are done, I'm only clearing my inbox currently.

T.W: NSFW content, if you already read this from the title, congrats, you have basic reading comprehension skills.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Sehnsucht: a German noun translated as "longing", "desire", "yearning", or "craving".

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

This man is very. Fucking. Horny.

He even jacks off to you nightly. <33

Will try and smash literally whenever, he doesn't care.

He was born solely to please and pleasure you.

And he's going to do whatever it is you ask of him.

He's a sub.

No. Not that sub, foodies come back here when you've eaten thank you.

A very subby sub.

Mf will whine if you pet him.

Like it's pathetic, you look at him a certain way? He's a beetroot.

Say something? Heh, he's on the verge of asphyxiation <3.

Do something sexual to him? He'll moan.

And he'll be embarrassed out of his fucking mind.

But you don't care, you want him to moan, to whine and whimper for you.

Which is usually why you end up not sleeping most nights, you're too occupied edging and overstimming the guy (he likes it, he likes everything you do to him tbh just make him feel inferior to you).

Tease his cock, just slowly caress it and he'll start begging you to let him cum in about 20-30 seconds.

Loves being babied secretly, although will only make it obvious in the bedroom.

His skin is cold, which is why you're in charge of warming it up via fucking the literal life out of him.

He'll cum easily dw, unless you want a challenge.

Sol's wicked strong, so he can dom very easily and quickly if he's in the mood for it.

When domming, he'll very rarely be cruel to you, only time he'd ever not be gentle with your gaping holes is because you made him jealous.

Then you're gonna get railed.

You don't have a say in that, you're gonna walk funny for the next few days.

Would also be down for dehumanisation.

He has a pet play and scent kink so you could just yank him on a leash and he's gonna be sopping.

Make him sniff you, lap at you, maybe even bite you, and he's gonna be fucking losing his mind.

Not like he already hasn't but anyway-

Essentially. Just anything you do, any way that ends up with him inside one of your holes is good enough for him.

Sol is horny. All the time. And you better get used to it, because while he can handle not railing you, he will eventually turn to somnophilia again.

If you consent to letting him fuck you when you're asleep he'll be softly moaning the whole time. And you fall asleep to the soft symphonies of his whines. Sometimes even wake up to them.

#the kid at the back #reminder that geo is superior #tkatb vn #tkatb #tkatb x reader #tkatb sol #solivan brugmansia #sol brugmansia #sol x reader #the kid at the back sol #teehee #i see you #i know who you are #i know the weakness of your heart #<33

2K notes · View notes

authorhjk1 · 8 months ago

Note

is it possible you make a smut about karina? where you fuck her infront of a mirror as you watch her body bounce as you rail her hard and groping every inch of her body.

P.S i really like your works and your writing is supurb, i hope you continue writing more stories.

I apologize for the long wait. I had to put these two requests together, because I can't keep up with ones I already got and the new ones that are coming in. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

(Karina X Hwang Yeji X Male Reader)

You look across the table. Dinner tasted delicious and you also prepared cake for the birthday girl. The older one of the two sisters stares down at the chocolate cake, carefully taking a bite.

It's hard to say you hate her. She is your friend's daughter after all. But you can't help it. You've watched her grow up for more than just a couple of years. You treat both sisters almost the same, but Karina started to become something that you were afraid of. A stuck up, self-centered bitch.

It's a shame actually. But by the way her mother behaves, it's not that big of a surprise. She and your friend are sitting at your table as well. You invited the family of four, because of Karina's birthday. Because you wanted to be polite. Not because you wanted Karina to be around you.

The complete opposite applies to Yeji. The younger one of the two sisters. She has her rebellious side, for sure, but she has always been a sweet sunshine. Even now, her smile lights up your dining room as she takes her first bite of the cake.

"Mmmh. It's so delicious. You are a really great cook."

You crack a smile at Yeji's compliment.

Unable to not compare the two sisters, you notice that Karina hasn't said a word. Not even a thank you. She does eat the cake, which already is something, but she is just as rude as her mother is.

You sigh in disappointment. Your friend should've done better. Of course every parent makes mistakes, but Karina's mother is just on another level. But Yeji still turned out well. You can't get behind it. What exactly went wrong?

"Please let me help."

Yeji smiles at you as she stands up to collect the rest of the plates. She is the only one of your three guests who offered her help. To be fair, her father is currently on a call with his client. Mother and daughter are both busy with their phones it seems.

"Thank you, Yeji."

"I should really come over more often."

Turning around, you see Yeji, who is walking after you into the kitchen.

"Please don't. You are a lot of work."

"Very funny."

She puts down the plates, looks outside the kitchen and looks back at you.

"Who is your favorite? Me or Karina?"

You roll your eyes at her question. A question you've heard more than a thousand times over the last years. From both of them.

"I don't have favourites."

"Oh come on. I know you like me more."

"What would make you think that?"

"You invite me more often than her."

Holding the towel for the dishes in your hand, you throw it at her. The white cloth covers Yeji's face.

"You always come here uninvited. When was the last time I asked you to come?"

Yeji pulls the towel off of her head, pouting at you.

"You invited me for today. Didn't you?"

You turn towards your sink, getting ready to wash the dishes. Your stupid dishwasher broke two days ago.

"I invited all of you. That doesn't count."

Yeji steps next to you.

"You can be really mean sometimes."

"Just honest."

Yeji takes the cleaned plate out of your hand.

The two of you finish washing the dishes in silence. Once you are done, you motion Yeji to sit at the kitchen table.

"Got something as a reward for helping me."

"Really?"

Yeji looks at you with excitement in her eyes.

You open the door of the fridge. The young woman tries to look around you, wanting to know what you are going to give her.

"More cake?"

She smiles brightly as you turn back around.

"Not just any cake."

Grabbing two forks on your way, you sit down in front of Yeji. The cake in the middle.

"It's the cake I got from the publisher for finishing the last book."

"Wow. So that really is the last book of your series?"

You nod.

"I will write more. But I think there is not much more to tell about this one."

Yeji nods in response as well. She puts a piece of cake into her mouth.

"That's delicious."

You shush her.

"Be quiet, or we have to share"

Yeji giggles, before eating some more.

"If it was you last book though, you must've gotten a lot of fan letters and stuff."

"I did."

"Can I check them out?"

"That's kinda private, Yeji. Those people send their letters to me not you."

The young woman pouts.

"Hey, man."

Your friend walks in.

"I have to meet a client. I'm sorry about this, but I have to leave now."

"No problem, mate. I will makes sure the girls get home safely."

"Thank you."

"By dad!"

"Bye sweetie."

He kisses Yeji on the head, before he walks out.

"Well, this makes my original plan way easier."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What plan?"

"Having some alone time with you."

The tone of her voice starts changing. The sweet, innocent girl starts to fade into the background.

"Your sister and your mom are still here."

"Oh please. As if they are going to check on us."

Yeji takes another bite. More slowly this time. And with way more eye contact.

"We shouldn't be doing this with anyone around."

She gets up, walking around the table.

"No one will go into your study without permission."

"But-"

Yeji gracefully takes her seat on your lap.

"Am I right? Daddy?"

The 24 year old kinky college girl has finally found its way to the surface.

Fuck. You just can't resist her.

It happened around three or four years ago, if you remember correctly. Spending a lot of time with you growing up, Yeji naturally started to enjoy the things you enjoy too. One of them being writing. She didn't just enjoy it, she loved it. You helped her improve and let her beta read all your new stuff, before publishing it. You went with her to small classes and even competitions for young writers. It was nice to share something like this with her.

And before you could even realize what was happening, Yeji already graduated. You felt like time flew past way too quickly. But on that day, you found yourself sitting in the school's gym, applauding as she got up to receive her diploma. An honorary mention for being the founder of the school's writing club and being part of a nation wide competition was of course a given.

After only a couple of hours on the day, which should've been one of the best of her life, she stood at your doorstep, looking up at you. Her black hair a mess, puffy red eyes and tears running down her cheeks. Her father always planned for her to work at his company and eventually take over. But she decided to take a different path. The path you took. Or at least a very similar one. After she told him, she already got a scholarship at a local college, her dad wasn't fond of the idea at all. The two of them fought hard that day. The only person Yeji wanted to get comforted by that day was you.

Only a couple of minutes after she arrived and dumped all of this on you, her father called. Your friend was worried about her, since she just ran off and he didn't know where she was. You told him that she was with you and would stay the night. The two of them should have a calm discussion the next day.

Yeji was incredibly thankful and eventually went to the room she always stays in when she sleeps over. After having talked to her for several hours, you wanted to make sure that she was alright one last time, before going to bed yourself. You walked in on her lying on the big bed, her skirt on the floor, her fingers knuckle deep inside of her. The way she moaned your name is the reason why you are here now.

"Fine."

You sigh in defeat, feeling Yeji slightly grind against you.

"Go upstairs. I will tell your mom we are going to write on your project for college."

Yeji suddenly attacks you, pressing her lips against yours. Her tongue aggressively demands entrance into your mouth. The two of you engage into a hot but quick kiss.

"I'll be waiting."

With one last wink and sway of her hips, Yeji is gone.

You clear your throat, before standing up. Everytime you do this, you feel like the greatest sinner on earth. She is your friend's daughter. She is half your age. You were there on her first day of school. It always feels wrong when you think about it. And it always feels wrong afterwards. But if you only glance at Yeji, all that doubt goes out the window.

"Yeji and I are in my study in case you are looking for us. She needs help on her project."

Your friend's wife just nods, while you can see Karina rolling her eyes. You know what she thinks of her younger sister. You wish she could be only half as good as her. From what you've heard from Yeji, Karina likes her own college life. Or rather the boys in it. The stories her younger sister told you makes you think that your friend and his wife raised a self entitled slut.

Opening the big oak doors to your study and library, you see Yeji sitting at your desk.

Her warm smile makes you walk a little faster.

"Come here."

Once you reach her, you grab Yeji's chin, tilting her head upwards to meet yours. The two of you engage in another passionate kiss. While keeping your lips locked, you start to peel Yeji off your chair. You guide her towards the edge of your desk. Yeji hops onto the wooden surface, disconnecting from your lips for only a second.

Her new position enables you to properly run your hands all over her body. She moans into your mouth as she feels you exploring every inch of her.

"(Y/n)."

Yeji sighs your name, feeling one of your hands on her ass, while the other dips underneath her top. Your reach upwards, until you find her chest. Squeezing her tits over her bra makes Yeji moan again.

She eventually brakes away due to the lack of air. She smiles back up at you, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"Let me give you head."

Yeji slides off the edge of the desk, landing between your legs on her knees. You have to bite your lip as you watch Yeji unbuckle your belt.

"It has been so long since last time."

You chuckle at her eagerness as she pulls down your pants. Your cock springs free, landing on her beautiful face.

"Wow."

She gasps, like she does everytime.

You rub your cock all over her face. Yeji closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cock.

You never met someone who was this passionate about worshipping your cock. But Yeji is one of a kind. She was more eager than skilled at first. But you've trained your friend's daughter to be your personal slut. One would never see Yeji as that, when they would meet her on the street. But she can be a naughty little devil in your ear. Especially when her family comes over, or you visit them. She always tries to sneak off with you. Just like right now.

Yeji starts to suck you off in your study. Her eyes are still closed in bliss as she savors the taste of your cock. Her blowjob becomes more messy by the second. Soon, she is almost drooling on your cock. You take a fistful of her gorgeous orange hair and you start to thrust into her mouth. Yeji moans, opening her mouth as wide as possible, relaxing her throat.

"Damn, princess."

You've always called her and her sister that. But since the two of you started having sex, this nickname has a another layer to it. A dirty one at that. Because right now, Yeji doesn't look like a princess at all. She is on her knees, drooling spit onto your cock, her thighs and the floor. Your dick starts to hit the back of her throat as you begin to thrust into her harder. Soon, only the sounds of her gags fill your study. It's a beautiful melody. One that you would love to hear every day.

Yeji takes your mouth fucking like the good girl she has been raised to be. No complaining, no dirty look, not even the hint of a struggle. She seems to be in her element.

You unfortunately don't have the stamina to keep up the pace for too long. Eventually, you have to slow down, enabling Yeji to take a proper breath through her nose. Spit is covering her chin by now. You keep thrusting into her mouth. Slow, but still with purpose. But Yeji's eyes slowly start to turn dark with lust. Signaling you that she can only hold out this long without getting touched.

After a while, you finally pull out of her completely. A tear is rolling down her cheek, which she scoops up with the back of one of her fingers. Yeji takes a moment to catch her breath properly.

"B-Bend me over."

Her voice sounds raspy and dry. Which is odd, because there is spit covering everything. Her chin, lips, shirt, thighs and the floor too.

"Your manners, Yeji."

You're reminded how often you said that years ago. When you had important visitors and the two sisters stayed at yours over the weekend.

"Sorry. Please, daddy?"

She pouts cutely. Like she always does, when she wants something.

"We still have to be quick though."

Luckily, you always keep your desk clean. Quickly putting your laptop to the side, you turn Yeji around afterwards.

"Daddy..."

She moans as she feels your hand pressing against her back, making her bend over the wooden surface. Since your desk is quite high and quite big, Yeji can barely hold onto the edge on the other side. And she has to lift her feet off the ground, if she wants to do so. Only her tiptoes stay in contact with your wooden floor.

You reach around her, quickly unbuttoning her white pants, pulling them off of her.

"You came prepared, I see."

The lack of underwear has an obvious meaning. Yeji wiggles her butt at you, tempting you to just enter her immediately.

"Just for you, daddy."

Everytime she calls you that, you can't help but think about how wrong this all is. She could be your own daughter. Buth there she is, bend over your desk, telling you what she wants you to do to her.

"Can you please fuck me now? I've waited the whole day for this. I need it..."

Yeji sighs in desperation, her cheek resting on the dark wood.

You stand behind her, aligning your cock with her wet folds. You can see them glistening, when you pull her cheeks apart a little.

"Fuck, Yeji."

You can't believe how beautiful she is. How good her body looks. You wait for just a little longer, making Yeji squirm in anticipation, before you finally push inside of her.

"Oh god!"

A deep moan echoes through your study as you part Yeji's walls. Her tight pussy is dripping wet, making it easy for you to slide into her completely. You wonder, how she is so turned on. Because of you? Because you're her dad's friend? Because she has been waiting for this all day?

You are not sure. But you can say that this makes up for all the bad attitude her sister threw in your direction today.

Soon, you find yourself indulging in the pleasure that you take from Yeji's young and tight body. Every part of her seems to be made with perfection. You can't help but let your free hand roam her body. The other one is holding her waist as you keep thrusting into her.

Reaching under her shirt, you grope her breasts. A string of moans escapes her mouth. One louder and dirtier than the previous one.

"Harder, daddy! Please!"

You finally give into her begging. You know, if you fuck her harder, you won't be able to keep your orgasm off for much longer. And you still want to enjoy more of her body.

"Get on the desk."

Yeji takes a moment to comprehend what you just said. But she eventually manages to peel herself off your desk. You turn her around and push her back on it. Now on her back, Yeji looks up at you as you start thrusting into her again.

"Yes, daddy!"

You reach forward, bunching her shirt up over her tits. You push the bra up as well, finally revealing her small perky tits. Your other hand is holding onto one of her luscious thighs. Fingers digging into her soft skin.

"Keep going..."

Yeji slowly starts to lose the ability to speak. Her words start to turn into letters loosely strung together. It tells you that she isn't far away from her own climax.

You play with her tits, kneading them and pinching a nipple occasionally.

"Oh..."

She tries to say something again, but your strong thrusts make her eyes roll back. Her head, just like her back, is rubbing against the wooden surface of the desk in the rhythm of your pounding.

Your own desire for release starts to overwhelm you. The sight of Yeji, squirming and moaning on the desk she used to sit on and watch you write a cute story for her, makes you want to ruin her completely. Both of your hands are now holding onto her full thighs, enabling you to pull her back into you way harder than before.

The sound of your skin hitting hers echo through your study, accompanied by the young girl's moans.

"Daddy! Cuming!"

Yeji cries out as the pleasure finally proves too much for her. Her body shakes atop your desk as her orgasm overwhelms her. You don't slow down, pounding her through her high as you chase your own. Yeji's body often has that affect on you. That desire to completely wreck her, leaving her a whining, dirty mess.

"Ohhh..."

Yeji's drawn out mix of moan and cry sounds like music to your ears. Her pussy contracts around you at the same time, demanding that you cum inside.

"Princess..."

You groan, realizing that you don't know if this is a safe day for her or not. You want to fill Yeji with your cum, but you don't want to knock up your friend's daughter. Yeji is too far gone to care at the moment. Her body keeps squirming on the wooden surface, moans leaving her body in irregular intervals. You try to hold on for longer, but you eventually can't stop yourself.

With the last ounce of strength you have left, you regretfully leave Yeji's snug hole. As you pull out, that last squeeze of Yeji's inner walls makes you explode. You shoot your load all over her body. Her midriff is the first thing that's covered in your cum. Her chest quickly follows as strings of your semen hit her tits.

You feel your legs weaken as you calm down yourself, taking in the view in front of you. Yeji lies on the desk, her eyes still partially closed. A light smile plays around her lips as her heavy breath makes her chest heave. Her upper body is painted with your cum as she just lies there. Like a beautiful painting. A piece of art.

You walk down the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Yeji kept you busy with her project after the two of you had some fun. She does need to finish it soon, which means you didn't lie earlier. You are really helping her.

Opening the door to the bathroom, you suddenly stop moving. You look at Karina, who is standing in the middle of the room.

You notice her phone, which is standing on the sink, leaning against the lower part of your mirror. Karina isn't just taking a normal picture. She has hooked a finger inside her cleavage and is pulling the hem of her dress down. Despite looking at her from the side, you can see her breasts, almost completely exposed, through the mirror.

"Karina. What the hell are you doing?"

You see the young girl jumping, when she hears your voice. She looks at you as she takes her hand off her dress, letting it fall back into place. You see her roll her eyes before answering.

"Nothing."

"This doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Whatever."

Despite her disgusting attitude, Karina is still your friend's daughter and Yeji's sister. You still care for her. You glance at her phone, before looking back at her.

"Were you taking pictures of yourself?"

"So what?"

She reaches for the phone.

"Are you sending them to someone?"

"Not your business."

You hold back the desire to just give her a small clap on the head. Just a really small one.

"Karina, you shouldn't send this to anyone, whom you don't trust."

"I can do what I want."

You nod.

"That's true. I'm just saying, please be aware of the consequences."

"Stop annoying me already."

Karina is obviously checking the photos she took, while you are still trying to talk to her.

"I wouldn't need to annoy you, if you wouldn't act like this."

She raises an eye brow, but keeps looking at her phone.

"You can't tell me what to do."

Karina places the phone back on the sink. She goes through her hair, looking at the mirror. She hasn't even looked at you properly yet since you came in. It makes your blood boil even more.

"Actually, I can. This is my house. Plus, I'm your godfather."

"Oh no, I'm scared."

You watch as she bites on her nail and winks at the phone. You hear it taking a picture. She probably used a timer or something.

You take a deep breath.

"Get out."

She keeps going as if she didn't hear you. When she is about to pull the top of her dress down again, you stop her by grabbing her arm.

"I. Said. Get out."

You speak through your teeth, trying to stay calm. You pull her towards the door.

"Ouch. Stop it!"

Karina uses both hands to push you away. You let go, expecting her to get her phone and walk out on her own. Your eyes widen when you see her standing in front of the mirror again, hooking a thumb underneath one of the straps on her shoulders, smiling at the phone.

"You can wait outside, you know."

You were already annoyed by her attitude during the meal earlier. Her manners are pretty much non existent. You managed to hold yourself back. And Yeji did an incredible job to make up for her older sister's behavior. But there is only so much you can take. If Karina was a couple of years younger, you would've just picked her up and carried her out. You used to do that, when she was being a brat at an younger age.

"Karina."

You realize your tone has become threatening. You reach out for her shoulder, wanting to stop her from letting the strap fall off of it. She swats your hand away. It lands in her hair. And before you can even think about it. You've already taken a fistful.

"One last time. Get. Out."

You growl into her ear.

"Let me go!"

She tries to push you away again, but this time you stay steady.

"Stop it. You know I'm stronger than you."

"I'm gonna tell dad!"

"So what? You think he is gonna like the fact you take this kind of pictures of yourself?

Karina winces as you tug at her hair a little too hard.

"Leave me alone you ass!"

She finally reached the limit. She broke the last wall of self restraint you had left.

You push her against the sink, slightly bending her over it. The both of you stare at each other in the mirror. She finally looks at you properly.

"Stop being a rude bitch first."

The words left your mouth before you could think about them. You planned on saying something different. They just came out. You almost expect Karina to cry, when you see her eyes grow wide.

"Fuck you!"

You were wrong.

Karina reaches behind her with one hand to push you away. The other holds onto the sink.

"No. Fuck you. You have no manners at all."

"So what, huh!?"

She glares at you through the mirror, slightly raising her chin.

"Apologize and behave properly. Or this will have consequences."

You used to say that line when the two sisters were younger. It always worked. You were like a fun uncle for them. Whenever you became this serious, they knew they did something wrong.

But now, Karina just scoffs.

"I'm not ten anymore. What are you gonna do? Punish me?"

"I will."

"Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I can do what I want."

"Not under my roof."

You point at her phone.

"Delete the pictures you took and go downstairs."

"No."

"Karina..."

You growl, pushing her forward with your hand on the back of her head. She stumbles against the sink.

"Delete them."

"No."

Karina crosses her arms and glares at you, once she has regained her composure. You reach for it yourself. She tries to stop you, but you are too strong for her.

"Give it back!"

You take a step back and hold her in place. Since your arms are longer than hers, Karina can't reach for her phone.

You delete the first to pictures without even looking at them. But when you see more and more of them, you start to realize how sexy she looks in them.

What she lacks in manners and attitude, she seems to make up for with her body. You can't deny the fact that Karina's beauty rivals her sister's.

Once you are done, you look at her again.

"Did you seriously just delete all of them?"

Karina asks with disbelief in her voice.

"Yes. Now, get out."

"No. I need some content for this weekend. You just deleted like twenty pictures or something."

"What content?"

You furrow your eye brows.

"None of your business. Give me my phone back."

You ignore her outstretched hand, quickly scanning through the apps on her phone. You see a white icon with a blue O on it. You realize what she is doing.

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

You show her what you found.

"So? I need to pay my bills somehow."

"Does your father know about this?"

"Don't you dare."

Karina glares at you.

"Oh trust me. I will tell him."

"No way."

Now she finally looks a little concerned.

"Karina, you shouldn't be doing this. Just because you look nice, doesn't mean you have to sell your body for some money."

"You think I look nice?"

She mockingly raises and eyebrow.

"That's wasn't my point Karina."

"Come on, you can be honest. Do you know how much guys pay me for these pictures?"

"I don't give a fuck."

"But I do. If you are gonna tell on me, I'm gonna tell on you too."

"I'm a grown man and your dad's friend. What could you possible know about me that would be worth his time?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe the fact his best friend rails his daughter on a regular basis?"

"What?"

You are too surprised to hide it. You and Yeji made sure that no one would find out. You were always careful. How...?

"See? Seems like I do have something of value."

"How do you know?"

"Me and Yeji share a dorm at college. Whenever she doesn't see you for longer than a week, she plays with herself, when she thinks I'm asleep. I can't believe she calls you daddy."

You close your eyes in disbelief. Yeji... Why does she have to be so fucking horny all the time?

"Fine. Alright. I won't tell on you. You won't tell on me."

A sly, victorious smile plays around Karina's lips.

"Deal."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are rude all the time."

"I'm not rude."

It's your turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I have my reasons."

You let go of her hair earlier. She crosses her arms in front of her, looking away.

"I don't care what your reasons are. So leave."

You gesture towards the door.

Karina doesn't move.

"You deleted all the pictures. I need new ones."

"I still don't like what you are doing. Leave."

She shakes her head.

"Help me with this."

You realize that your argument isn't flawless.

"You're my friend's daughter. No way."

"Seriously? You creampie my sister, but you don't want to fuck me?"

How are you going to get out of this?

"I'm not shooting a movie here or something. If you want someone to fuck you on camera, find a pornstar or something."

Karina rolls her eyes.

"That's where you draw the line?"

"Karina..."

She ignores you, taking the phone out of your hand.

"You don't need to do anything but fuck me. Shouldn't be that hard."

She sets the camera to record, before placing it back on the sink.

You think about it for a moment. It really isn't that hard. You are fucking Yeji already. So why not go all the way? It's not like she is gonna tell her dad.

Karina leans over the sink, looking back at you over her shoulder.

"Give it to me. Daddy."

That last word makes you jump into action.

It sounds so much different to when Yeji says it. The younger one uses more affection. Whenever she says it, you feel like she would do anything for you. Or rather your cock.

When Karina says it, it's sounds more lustful. Maybe even slightly condescending.

Yeji is the good girl, while Karina is the bad one.

You quickly unbuckle your belt and let your pants drop to the floor. Karina watches you through the mirror as you reach for the hem of her dress.

She glances at the phone, when she feels you pushing her dress up. You reveal her ass. Slightly bigger than Yeji's. You can't help but compare. Your hands wander over her skin. The same thrill you feel whenever you have sex with Yeji enters your body. The thrill of doing something forbidden. The fact that she is filming this makes it even hotter, now that you think about it.

"Don't tease me, daddy."

A knowing smile plays on Karina's lips.

You align your cock with her entrance. Her wet folds make it easy to slip inside. It seems like taking the pictures earlier turned her on.

"Damn, daddy."

Karina breaths heavily as you push inside. For some illogic reason you expected her to be not as tight as Yeji. You are proven wrong.

"Fuck you are tight."

You can't help but give her ass a rewarding spank.

"That's right daddy. Punish me for being such a slut."

You slap her again and again with every inch you push further into her. Karina moans whenever you do so. Her body is being pushed forward with every slap. Her ass cheeks jiggle deliciously.

Once you bottom out inside of her, you look at Karina in the mirror. Her half lid eyes stare back at you. She is biting her lip, trying to contain a loud moan.

You place both your hands on her waist, pushing down a little. Karina's back arches as a result, enabling you to push just a little bit further.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

It seems like you've reached her limit. Karina hisses as she tries to get accustomed to your cock.

"If I had known you are this big..."

She isn't able to finish her sentence, when you pull out of her.

You watch Karina's eyes roll back as your cock rubs against the length of her inner walls.

"Don't give me all the credit."

You chuckle as you push back inside.

"Fuck."

Another moan escapes Karina's lips.

"Am I tighter than my sister?"

A question you've never even dreamed of hearing. One so dirty, you never thought one of them would be able to say it.

"You are."

Your honest answer makes her smirk. You wipe it off her face a moment later. Because you start fucking her properly now.

"Holy shit."

Karina watches as you thrust into her again and again. Your hips snap against hers, making the sounds echo through the bathroom. She tries to silence herself once again by biting her lip, but your thrusts prove to be too much for her. Eventually, her mouth hangs open, lewd sounds coming from the deepest parts of her throat.

Your eyes, which were focused on her face, are now slowly wandering downwards. You get captivated by the way her tits move, while you fuck her. Reaching forward with one hand, you grope Karina's boobs over her dress.

They are bigger than Yeji's. You don't have to touch her to know it. It's obvious.

"You like mine more than my sister's. Right?"

Karina manages to ask another question like this.

"I would like you more if you would just shut up."

Another grin flashes across her face.

"If I'm still talking, you are just not fucking me hard enough."

You take it as a challenge. With one hand now in her hair and the other on her waist, you start to fuck Karina harder and faster. You push her against the sink with every thrust into her. A red line where she hits the sink appears on her skin.

"Look at yourself. Getting fucked in someone else's bathroom like a whore."

You don't know where these words came from. This situation, Karina herself, makes you do things you never thought of doing. You pull at her hair, forcing her to lift her head, which dropped between her shoulders earlier.

Karina's wide eyes stare at you as you take her from behind. Her tight walls squeeze you and try to stop you from leaving, whenever you pull back.

"Mmh, yes."

Karina moans, some spit falling out of her mouth in the process. She starts to lose her composure as you hit just the right spot with every single thrust. Her and Yeji's body feel similar to you. You can tell where her sensitive spots might be and you stimulate them properly, making a squirming mess out of the young woman.

You move your hand from her waist to her shoulders, quickly pulling the straps of her dress off. The upper half slips down her body, until the whole dress is bunched up right above her waist.

Karina's tits sway from side to side as you pound her from behind. You take one of them into your hand, squeezing it and earning another deep moan.

By now, you think Karina has forgotten about her phone. She seems to let herself go, submitting to your thrusts. Your hand keeps exploring her voluptuous chest, squeezing her tits and tugging at her nipples randomly.

Your cock in her pussy keeps hitting just the right spots. The combination of your pounding and your groping has Karina moaning and shivering. She watches herself getting fucked. It's something she starts to enjoy very much. Her pussy tightens even more around you in response.

You let your hand explore more of her body, while the other one keeps her head in place by holding her hair. You admire her collarbone and shoulders for a moment, before quickly moving past her chest. You feel the toned muscles of her stomach underneath your palm. As you keep fucking her and your hand moves further down, you could swear you can feel your cock through her belly.

You press against the spot and suddenly, Karina starts to shake more, her pussy squeezing you tighter.

"Daddy, fuck!"

It's the last words she manages to force out. From that moment onwards, Karina is a mumbling mess. You can't tell what she is trying to say. Her lips quiver uncontrollably. Her pussy is almost painfully tight as you feel more and more of her fluids leaking out of her.

Eventually, your hand reaches her clit. You start rubbing it, encouraging her with your fingers to cum on your cock. Karina's closed eyes shoot open. Saliva still drips from her parted lips.

"Ohhhh!"

A loud cry is the only thing she can do to announce her orgasm. Karina watches herself climaxing. She sees how her body twitches and squirms. How her muscles on her midriff seem to flex. She feels her own pussy tightening around your cock, contracting uncontrollably. Her arms and legs grow weak.

You keep fucking Karina through her orgasm. She can't do anything but take it. She can't tell you to stop. She tries to watch herself as long as possible. But when you somehow drive yourself into the deepest depths of her vagina, Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head. She sees stars, her mind eventually breaking from the pleasure.

You feel yourself chasing your own orgasm as you watch your friend's daughter through the mirror. Her breath has left fog on the glass. Only now do you realize her hands don't rest on the sink anymore. They are pressed against the surface of the mirror.

The sight of Karina like this slowly makes you reach your high.

"Fuck, Karina. Your pussy is gonna milk me dry."

You manage to push out the words as you try to hang on as long as possible. Her tight snatch keeps squeezing your cock, making it harder for you to properly fuck her like before.

"Let me taste your cum, daddy. I need it."

Karina's eyes reflect her desire and need for your cum. She almost unconsciously licks her lips.

You count to ten, trying to stay as long as possible inside of her. You want to savor every last second of her tight pussy wrapped around your cock.

But you have to pull out eventually. You leave the snug tightness of her snatch.

"Come here."

Karina drops to the tile covered floor, kneeling in front of you.

Just like you held Yeji an hour ago, you grab Karina's chin. But not to kiss her. You make her crawl towards the glass wall of your shower.

You press her cheek against it, signaling her to stay like this. The sight quickly makes you cum.

You start to shoot your load all over Karina's face. You paint her skin with your cum. She looked almost cute a moment ago. Now, she looks like a cheap whore.

"Fuck, that tastes good."

Karina is sucking her finger clean, after having scooped up some of your cum. You can't believe you came on both of your friend's daughters within two hours.

The older of the two now looks up at you, her tongue cleaning the cum off her face around her mouth.

"Would you like to become my partner for my content? You would get a cut off the profit."

"Karina-"

"You think we can convince Yeji to join us?"

"I don't think we should-"

"I think people are gonna be willing to pay if they know the two of us are actual sisters."

It feels like you are drowning in sin. It's bad enough you had sex with one of your friend's daughters more times than you could count. You now managed to fuck the older sister as well. And now she wants you to help her make money by filming you, fucking her and her sister?

"This isn't right Karina."

You try to do the right thing. But that ship has kinda sailed already. And you can't deny that a threesome with the two sisters would be mind blowing.

"Come on, daddy. You can do with me what you want. As long as we film it. And I'm pretty sure you are already using Yeji like a sex toy anyway."

2K notes · View notes

lawchwan · 7 months ago

Text

do you like the sound of the music? (law, ace, sanji, zoro, kid)

summary: how the boys sound when they're getting pleasured. reader: gn!reader genre: smut disclaimer: not super detailed smut, but a grave detail on how these fine men sound like a/n: I know I haven't done an a/n, but it has been a minute since I posted here. I have been preoccupied (thanks to being a senior at uni) but now that I am done with everything, I hope I have more free time to post some fics and reignite my love for writing. I won't bore you much and we will proceed with more content (also my fem!law fic is in the works and it'll be put out sometime soon)

crossposted on ao3

Law

as much as i'd like to advocate for the whimper-whiny-loud-subby!law agenda that i have been adapting to my psyche while i was gone, he seems like the quiet kind while he's pleasuring you.

obviously not the type to be overtly silent to the point you won't hear a breath out of him. he's just simply a grunter and a light growler. he won't be very vocal unless you want him too.

when he comes, thats when you hear the magic beautiful sounds. it depends on the type of sex, dynamic, and/or pace you two have set in, he’ll either grunt a dragged deep moan or a slight whimper that cascades into your ears as he spills out his load onto you.

“mm, shit, fuck, y/n, you feel so fucking good…fuck~”

ace

oh that loud ass motherfucker. if you expect him to quiet down, well you’re out of luck. even if you placed a gag on his mouth, he’ll still spill out the loudest moan any human could produce (please gag him, he actually loves it).

ngl he kinda is the type to give exaggerated noises, like im talking those very exaggerated moans that you would hear in those shitty pornos (that ace may or may not unironically enjoy).

if you want to illicit the most hottest whimper that spills out of his mouth, simply just stroke and tug on his wavy locks—he will definitely go feral over this simple manuever. his mouth would probably be wrapped around your nipples, and his muffled moans could be heard on the outside, disturbing whoever’s nearby.

“mm—pfah! you think you can cover my mouth, baby?! huh?! think again—oo FUCK!~”

sanji

another loud boy. maybe not as loud as ace, but definitely can be loud if he needs to be.

he’ll honestly let out the most cutest and hottest moans any person can produce, it can even border into whimpering. he does get embarrassed when he gets super loud though, so keep a gag nearby if needed.

he’ll, however, take pride that only you can push him into the edge and let him produce music to your ears, much to the dismay of the crew. he’ll sometimes purposely moan out loud if it means to piss off zoro and keep him up from his slumber, leaving the green mosshead disgruntled and disgusted.

“oh~oh my god! y/n! you feel so—fuck!”

zoro

zoro’s a grunter. next.

no but in all seriousness, he does seem like a grunter and the type to give you dirty talk. he, like law, is not that talkative but he’ll say the most filthiest of shit in your ears that will leave you melting under his touch.

he’ll also maybe taunt you by groaning along with you with a smirk as he looks down at your wet parts.

“aww, you want my cock that badly?… well you might have to beg for it”

kid

jesus this man is crazy in bed. he strikes me as the type to be a growler. he seems to me to be very animalistic as he rails you like there’s mo tomorrow.

i can see him pinning your hips down as he thrusts himself into you, throwing his head back, letting out the loudest growls and groans as he speeds himself up. he’ll probably start talking in haste manner as well as soon as he feels himself getting closer to let his waterfall out.

“c’mon.. fucking, c’mon! you better come for me. come for me. come for me. come for me—grrr FUCK!”

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

2K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 7 months ago

Note

Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!

Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!

cw: sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic.

Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight.

“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?”

“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive.

“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him.

No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes.

“God, sorry.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you.

Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat.

“Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?”

The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way.

“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.”

“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.”

You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop.

“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry.

You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?”

“Just now,” you answer.

“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat.

Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again.

“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.”

“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!”

“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.”

Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema.

“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others. Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself.

“I don’t know. I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—”

“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?”

“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” you shudder, your brain trying to shake off the memory “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did—”

“Baby.”

You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid.

“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks.

You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur.

Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.”

This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open.

“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.”

“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.”

Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James.

“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation.

“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks.

You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…”

Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him.

You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?”

“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.”

You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again.

“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.”

“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.”

“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.”

You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front.

“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room.

“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort.

“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.”

“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.”

“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.”

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.”

2K notes · View notes

harrystylesland · 4 days ago

Text

Fated Mate [Part I]

werewolf, alpha!harry x omega!reader

Warnings: age gap, mild degradation, daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, controlling and abusive parental figure, mentions of sexual abuse, 18+ ONLY

┈ㆍ┈ㆍ⨯ * ₊ ୨ ♡ ୧ ₊ * ⨯ㆍ┈ㆍ┈

» Y/N «

“Is she an omega?” The red-haired woman sitting at the table next to mine gasps as her stare connects with me.

I toss my hair back, revealing the bonding gland located at the back of my neck. The circular organ is spongy and firm, with no bite marks on it. I’m proud of being unmated, but not many people think that way.

Her voice becomes strangled and choked when I caress the fleshy spot at the nape of my neck, gliding my fingers across it sensually. If there were any alphas around here, they’d go feral with lust. An omega proudly announcing her single unmated status is considered the equivalent of spreading your legs and displaying your pussy in public.

Conservative people think it’s an invitation for unwanted alphas to stake their claim.

Even though society has come far since the time when omegas had to be married and reproducing by the time they were eighteen, the expectation that an omega will find a mate by twenty one and get knocked up with her alpha’s children still persists in society.

The whispers around me grow.

As an omega, it’s impossible to go unnoticed in public. I stand out because of my body. I’m a walking temptation and I don’t try to hide it. Why bother? Everybody is bound to figure out that I’m an omega eventually.

I have also been told that I smell like milk and vanilla. A smell that captivates any alphas—both human and shifter—in my vicinity.

“Here’s your order. Enjoy!” The café’s assistant—a pretty beta girl—sets my café latte on the table, followed by a slice of strawberry shortcake. I love having something sweet in the morning. It’s my pick-me-up.

“Thanks.” I mumble before returning my attention to the book I’m reading.

The smell of fresh coffee swirls around me. I like this café because it’s open to only omegas and betas. It’s a safe space free from aggression and danger. Nowadays, there are many eateries and restaurants targeted at only omegas and betas, which has made it easier for omegas and betas to feel safe as they move into society.

My mind latches onto the words on the page. Heck, the erotic images that these romance novels paints have me lusting for my own happily-ever-after with a man who can keep me satisfied forever.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back before he kissed her…

I can feel a wet spot forming in my panties. The urge to stroke my intimate lips nags me. Reading romance novels makes me horny. It also reminds me of how good I can get railed if I try. It has been weeks since I had sex with anyone. I’m close to my heat—that period when I constantly drip with the need for a thick cock.

I skim my hands over my thighs, grabbing my flesh and loving how soft I feel. I love this part of being an omega. Omegas have the constant need to be filled and taken care of, which is why they were considered whores in the past. But I love my sexual side. It makes me feel alive.

The red-haired woman stares at me as I bring the coffee cup to my lips. I purr when the hot bitter liquid slides down my throat.

She coughs awkwardly. I smile at her, trying to look cocky. She’s a beta so she doesn’t fall for my sex appeal. Instead, she goes back to gossiping with her friends.

Most beta female—both human and shifter—have a different body structure. Less feminine and less curvy. They don’t have wide hips to carry a pack of babies nor huge breasts for their offspring to suckle milk from. My body was designed to give birth to and nurture healthy children.

I don’t hate the fact that I look fertile and lush. I’ve decided to own my curves and femininity. I use it to fulfill my own sexual needs. After all, my in-your-face fertility and softness make me a catch to men.

The heat from the coffee is settling in my stomach and spreading through my groin. I press my thighs together, trying to contain the stream of moisture leaking from my pussy. I can’t contain the insistent need for sexual intercourse.

That’s it.

I need a warm body on top of me and a big cock drilling into me tonight. Otherwise, I won’t get through tomorrow.

I whip out my phone and click on the blue square with a pink omega symbol inside it. It’s one of my favorite apps.

Omega Love Finder.

I downloaded it a year ago and it has given me my best sexual experiences.

I scroll the forbidden sex app under the table, sipping my drink as the women around me continue to make assumptions about me.

It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that even though I’m an omega and the world is a dangerous place for us, I have persistent sexual needs. Not just during my heats, which can be brutal unless I have a cock inside me all the time. Even on normal days, I have a high sex drive.

There’s one particular kink I enjoy more than any others. Being a little girl to a gentle dom. Call it biology, but I can’t get enough of being spoiled and provided for by a strong man. I want my partner to do all the work sexually—to dominate me, praise me, and tease me open with incentives and gentle commands.

Basically, I like being a pillow princess.

My looks have made it easy to find men who will cater to my needs. Most men tend to go soft when they see an omega. I guess everybody feels protective of me because of my biology.

While there are often alphas on Love Finder looking for omegas in heat to help them through their ruts, I always go for beta shifters because it’s safe for me.

I flick through the photos of men on the app.

I’m in the mood for a specific kind of dom tonight. One who is strong, big, and wears suits. Men in formal clothing do it for me. I guess it’s the sense of tradition, stability, and establishment they exude that makes me feel safe.

I finally found one that matches my needs.

Harry Styles.

My pussy throbs in approval when I look at his profile picture. My ovaries grow warm with the need to carry his babies.

Harry’s face is a wet dream. He has thick brown eyebrows. He’s also incredibly large with solid hands and thick muscular legs and biceps. He's also tall at 6’2. His face is chiseled and angular—masculine enough to convince me that he’d make a great dom. While his eyes are forest green, his mouth is pink and warm, framed by a soft beard that I already want to caress. The contrast between his hard eyes and soft expression intrigues me.

Harry’s profile claims that he’s a wolf shifter, which is also called werewolf. I scroll to see his secondary gender designation, but that column is blank.

My heartbeat picks up. It’s unusual for people to not disclose their secondary gender on an app like this since so many matches are made based on mutual needs.

He’s probably not an alpha though. Alphas are proud and have a superiority complex because of how much influence they exert over society. They take every opportunity to let people know that they are alphas.

Trust me, I know. My guardian is an alpha.

Harry is probably a shy beta, or an omega trying to stay safe. I don’t mind being with another omega as long as he can take the lead.

I read on for his sexual preferences.

I’m a dom, but not into inflicting pain. I like to feel strong and in control. I hope my partner feels protected and safe enough to surrender to me and let me take care of them. I like DDLG roleplays and light bondage. Nothing crazy like binding, chains, and whips, but I get off on telling my partner what to do. We’ll negotiate boundaries before we play. If you’re a sub looking for a gentle dom, we’ll be a great match.

My omega instinct wails to be with Harry. He has ticked every box on my list so far. I immediately swipe right.

Attacking my cake with a spoon, I grow antsy for his reply. He probably works in a big corporation somewhere. I doubt he has time to look at his phone and reply to messages instantly.

I jump when a message floats into my inbox some minutes later.

He’s interested too.

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

I’m burning with anticipation when I enter the hotel lobby. Harry and I agreed to meet in his suite room.

I could tell how rich he is when he casually suggested that he would rendezvous at the most expensive hotel in town. When I offered to pay half the room’s cost, he said he had the room permanently reserved in his name so he wasn’t paying anything extra to have me there.

I swallow before knocking on the door.

“I’m Y/N.” I raise my voice so he can hear me on the other side.

“Come in. The door’s open.” He responds. His deep gruff command instantly sets my nerves on fire. I want him to praise me and degrade me with that voice.

I push the door open, then after filling my lungs with air, I charge in.

My eyes immediately snag on the unmissable male figure in the room.

Harry is lounging comfortably on the huge king-sized bed. A gray suit jacket lies discarded on the sofa. He’s still wearing his waistcoat. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned and folded back to reveal thick veiny forearms. My pussy jerks with heat as I rake my eyes over those bulging veins, wanting those hands to hold me down. Imagining those thick digits stroking my wet heat.

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” I walk on shaky feet.

At first, I was confused about why I was so nervous and so turned on. Then his scent hits me—woody, spicy, and thick with power.

Panic swells in my blood, rushing to my brain.

He’s an alpha.

And the only alpha I’ve ever been around is my father and he was unfortunately a controlling entitled prick.

I was so happy when I met a beta woman who had lost her omega mate and she adopted me as her own daughter after I got an emancipation order. I was tired of my dad oppressing me, telling me how to dress, and making me into a powerless omega who was dependent on the whims and commands of an alpha.

And so, the moment I recognize Harry’s scent, I react without hesitation. I swivel back, even though my pussy is leaking moisture. My skin is hot, demanding an alpha’s possessive comforting touch.

I have never slept with an alpha and I have no doubt it’d be the most otherworldly and exhilarating experience of my life. Alphas have huge cocks and my feminine heat needs to be stroked and stretched.

However, I’m not ready for the consequences that will follow the mating. The guilt, the shame, and the feeling of having been used like I’m a fleshlight.

“Wait.” His words are like a leash wrapping around my neck and pulling me back. An alpha’s command has a powerful effect on an omega. They can make me do anything if they talk to me in that voice filled with authority and lust. “Don’t be afraid of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

My body relaxes immediately, believing him. His intentions are clear and they’re comforting like a warm blanket wrapped around me.

“You never said you were an alpha.” I tense my shoulders. “I don’t sleep with alphas.”

He squints in confusion. “Aren’t you an omega?”

“So? I don’t like alphas. They’re domineering and possessive. They control me and treat me like an object. I want to be a princess, not a trophy.”

“I promise I won’t treat you like that.” He comes to his feet. Upright, I can’t ignore how tall and big Harry is. Every object in the room seems insignificant compared to his imposing silhouette. My legs itch to rush to him. My body longs to be nestled in the safety of that broad chest. Harry’s eyes soften. “Y/N, come here. Let’s talk about what’s making you anxious.”

Let’s talk.

I’m perplexed. Paralyzed by confusion. Alphas are high-handed. They don’t like discussions. They like telling you what to do.

He should have told me to stay, told me that an omega like me belongs under him, but he didn’t.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t fuck alphas.”

“I’m a shifter. A werewolf.”

“An alpha werewolf.” I say sharply, emphasizing the word alpha. “I don’t trust you.”

“Then let’s work on that.”

He wants to work on it?

My head feels light. Maybe this guy isn’t an alpha after all. His personality is too well-adjusted, but one whiff of his pheromones confirms that he is indeed one.

He is pure sex appeal bottled into an olfactory sensation. His smell fuels my need to surrender. My knees are shaking. I want to collapse on the floor and have him carry me to the bed. Then I want him to tear off my clothes and thrust into my wet heat.

I shake my head. Being his cum dump might feel good in the moment, but I’ll never live down the aftermath. And what if he decides to take me by force? I don’t want to be bonded to someone I don’t love.

I exhale. Then as I brush my hair away from my neck, it reveals the mating gland situated there.

Harry’s eyes flare with heat, going pitch black as his pupils dilate to fill his irises. His breathing grows frenetic. He can’t take his eyes off the spot—the forbidden unclaimed spot that the wolf inside him is probably dying to mark.

“You can’t bite me.” I say firmly. “I don’t want to belong to any alpha until I decide he’s the one I’m marrying.”

His jaw tightens with the strain of holding himself back. “I will respect that. A woman who thinks long-term relationship is definitely wife material.”

“Let me make this clear. I’m not going to be your wife. Or your mate. Or your anything. I’m only here for a fun night and to be spoiled by a dom. You can pound my pussy and use every part of my body including my ass, but you can’t try to claim me. Understood?”

Harry’s nostrils flare. His hands are fisted around the bedsheet. An alpha doesn’t usually get challenged by an omega, much less have an omega telling him what he can’t do.

While I'm waiting for Harry’s response, I expect him to show his dominance, to tell me he can claim me wherever he wants.

“Your gland is off-limits?” His neck muscles go taut with tension as he releases a bitter laugh.

“I won’t surrender to a dom who has no self-control. That’s dangerous for me.”

“I do have self-control. I won’t do anything that either of us will regret later.” He nods in approval. “So you don’t have to worry about becoming my mate. Thank you for being honest with me.”

My whole body erupts with pride at that gesture. It’s like I want him to be pleased by my behavior, to tell me I’m smart and sensible—not a reckless omega looking to get violated. That’s what people always tell me.

Betas and alphas can indulge their sexual needs as much as they like without the threat of being claimed and impregnated, but omegas are oppressed because of their nature. And I won’t tolerate that. I also stay safe by taking my suppressants. I don’t need birth control pills. I can’t get pregnant from an alpha who hasn’t mated with me and bitten me on the neck to bind me to him forever. That’s the way omega bodies function. My womb will only carry my alpha’s seed. It’s both convenient and inconvenient since I don’t know if I’ll ever find the right alpha, but I do want to have kids of my own.

“That’s my hard boundary. I’m not looking to settle down. All I need is a hot one-night stand with a man who’ll make me come.” I tell him. “My other conditions include that you leave no marks on my body. I don’t like pain and punishment. And I want you to be loving. Don’t treat me like a possession.”

“You like feel-good sex?” He quirks his eyebrows. “So do I.”

“Good. We’re on the same page. Anything I need to know about your preferences, Harry?” I can’t fathom asking this question because it means that I’m thinking of going through with having sex with an alpha.

“I need intimacy.” Harry runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t fuck someone just because they’re hot. I hate meaningless sex that feels emotionally empty. Even if we’re only sleeping together, my emotions must be involved. I want to feel like you really love me even though if it’s an act.”

An alpha who wants to be loved and not obeyed? Now that’s something I’ve never heard of.

Harry shocks me with every word that comes out of his mouth. He’s more than the controlling alpha stereotype. He’s deep. He cares about feelings—his own and mine. He doesn’t want to present the image of being stoic and cold so he comes off looking invulnerable. He’s dominant, but not addicted to having authority. It must be because he’s so successful in his career. He has so much control over the external world. And unlike my father, he’s not trying to feel masculine by treating women like slaves.

“Okay, I can do that. I’m good at roleplaying.” I nod. “But if you do something I’m uncomfortable with, or I want you to stroke my hair and call me nicknames, I’ll speak up immediately. It may make you uncomfortable, but I don’t care.”

Harry grins. “I love a feisty brat.”

I blink in surprise. “Your inner alpha doesn’t feel threatened when someone tells you what to do?”

“I take it as a suggestion rather than a command.” Harry’s cloudy green eyes watch me with interest.

My body is really sending me confused signals right now. I’m here for sex only, but cuddling with him and talking about our lives suddenly seems like a much better idea.

I shake off that useless thought. I’m not looking to date an alpha. Or get deeply involved with one.

“I think it’s good to have a partner who expresses their emotions. Why would it make me feel out of control because you have needs? I’m not interested in fucking a robot with no personality.” He continues to explain.

My chest fills with warmth. My shoulders relax. And I can’t prevent a smile from forming on my lips.

As crazy as it sounds, I like this guy. He’s an alpha, but I like him. He’s not like any of the alphas I’ve seen before. He’s not insecure. His sense of power is not fragile and is based on absolute command.

“Okay.” I should feel threatened, scared, and antsy. I should be running away and writing off this encounter as an unfortunate tragedy. But after our conversation, I want to be taken care by this gorgeous alpha. “Let’s start then.”

I unbutton my dress. Peeling the sleeves off my arms, I let the garment glide over my hips until it’s lying on the ground.

I turn around, giving him a glimpse of my juicy ass and smooth back. It’s thrilling to see how quickly the bulge in Harry’s pants grows when he takes me in. His erection is huge. My pussy is getting excited at the thought of milking that giant cock.

“You can’t seem to take your eyes off my gland.” I tease in a seductive tone. “Do you like it?”

“I know I can’t claim you, but can I touch it? Promise I won’t bite.” Harry holds up his pinky finger in a mock promise.

I find that gesture adorable and his question boyish and sweet. The innocence coupled with his deadly good looks makes for an intriguing combination. He makes me feel safe.

“You may touch.” I reply, my voice shivering. “I’ve never let anybody touch that spot.”

“I’m grateful for the honor.” Harry motions me to him. “Come sit on my lap, baby girl. Let me look at your gorgeous mating gland.”

My pussy flutters when he calls me his baby girl—not because the endearment is anything special, but because he says it with so much affection like I actually mean something to him. It’s the kind of tone I could imagine him using on his own daughter. Harry would be the type of dad who would spoil his daughters rotten. He’s the sort of man who feels good when he’s loved by the women around him. He’ll be an amazing daddy.

I can’t believe I get to be cherished by him, even for one evening.

His thumb tests the spongy circular skin of my mating gland. His breath leaves his nostrils in forceful streams, hitting my neck like gusts of wind. He traces the shape of my gland using delicate light touches. I’m already grinding into his thick erection. My pussy throbbing from the friction between our sexual organs.

“So beautiful.” Harry’s voice shivers with need. He presses a kiss on my gland, licking circles around my sacred bonding spot. His tongue dips, painting a wet trail from my neck to my spine. We’re flirting with danger here. His mouth is already on my gland. Any second, he could decide to sink his teeth into me and forcefully claim me as his omega. But I know he won’t. He licks me a few more times then moves his head away. “Your body is soft and delicious.”

“Do you want to claim me?” I inquire, still on edge.

“Of course I do.” He replies with a desperate growl. “I’m an alpha. The wolf inside me wants to claim you, pin you down, and stuff your stomach with my pups.”

My eyes widen, panic edging between my ribcage. I twitch, coming off his lap and onto my feet, moving myself away from the masculine intoxicating presence of Harry Styles.

I look around, wondering how to escape this place and this man who has hypnotized me with his gentle voice. But my body refuses to move. It doesn’t want to run.

My wet heat wants to take Harry’s cock and grow his children in my womb. My blood shivers with the need to have my belly swollen with pups. The ache in my pussy intensifies at the image of Harry stroking my pregnant stomach and kissing it. I’m flabbergasted.

I’ve never wanted to have any man’s babies before. Is this the primal instinct of an omega when faced with the potent scent of an alpha? Or is it something else?

Before I can move, Harry’s fingers snake around my wrist. “Did I scare you, baby girl? I’m sorry. I can’t hide my feelings. But my word is binding. Trust me, I won’t claim you.”

He pulls me to his chest and caresses my hair, whispering to me that it’s alright to trust him. That he won’t ever hurt me.

I wish I could believe him, but I can’t. What I do believe in is my ability to hate alphas. But my body is melting with his warm touch.

Before long, the suspicious thoughts in my head have been replaced by blissful ones. Harry spreads me out on the bed and takes his time relishing every part of my body. He caresses the shell of my ear. The roughness of his thumb pad provides a delicious texture against my soft skin.

“So pretty. My baby girl is so gorgeous.” He whispers.

My pussy responds immediately, releasing a stream of moisture. His voice isn’t sexy or flirty, just loving and full of admiration. And that kind of loving compliment sets my core on fire. I never imagined I’d be the kind of girl to respond to sweet affectionate lovemaking. I guess my new Daddy is teaching me all kinds of things about myself.

I writhe under his expert care, swimming in an ocean of warm elation as his fingers travel down my breasts, circling my areolas.

“Daddy, that feels so good...” I mumble when he latches onto my hard nipple and pleasures it with his tongue. He strokes my thick bud with the wet tip, inciting heatwaves in my core.

Harry squeezes my other breast, dragging his thumb along the underside. “You have huge boobs. Daddy loves suckling on them and playing with them.”

I love it too. He does something magical to me every time he touches me. Even though his fingers and tongue brush me gently, his control is a silent force behind him. He knows exactly what he’s doing. And I love that fact.

“I’m an omega.” I remind him. “My boobs are bigger than average.”

“Your body is so lush and fertile too.” Harry’s reverent tone matches the delicate brushes of his fingertips against my hips. “Daddy loves a baby girl who is ripe with need for his cock.”

Heaviness is building up between my thighs. The dark sensation is somewhere between an impending orgasm and an all-out physiological takeover of my mind by a strong alpha. My body feels dense. His every finger stroke seeps into my bloodstream, making my blood feel thick with his claim.

“You’re so good at foreplay.” I say. It’s a real compliment. Men rarely pay this much attention to turning me on when I’m already leaking like a faucet. “I’m gushing.”

“I need you even wetter.” Harry bites his lip. “My cock is not the average size.”

There it is. The alpha in him asserts its superiority.

I chortle. “We’ll see.”

Harry climbs on top of me. His weight makes me feel small and vulnerable. I’d never admit it out loud, but having a big bad alpha mount me like this exhilarates my senses. I want him to stake his dominance over me.

His lips flit over my neck, sucking the tender skin at the juncture of my shoulders. My back arches off the bed.

“That…” I pant. “That felt powerful.”

I never knew I was so sensitive there. Nobody has played with that spot before.

“Daddy’s going to make his baby girl tremble with pleasure.” Harry flashes his perfect teeth and continues sucking at my flesh. “I hope you don’t have any plans for the rest of the evening because this is going to take all night.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy.” The words flow so naturally from my lips. It’s not an act, not part of the play. It’s what I’m feeling. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Y/N. I want to take care of you properly. Buy you flowers every day and pleasure you until you’re dizzy.”

My inner romantic sighs at his words. I wish I could be with the kind of man who would buy me flowers and romance me every day, but that’s just a fantasy for an omega stuck in a world full of entitled alphas who believe in control rather than wooing.

“I’d love that.” I lie, even though we’ll never see each other again. “I love being spoiled with thoughtful gifts.”

“I’ll spoil you rotten, baby girl.” His heavy-lidded gaze is drenched with underlying meaning that I’m too scared to intuit. The boundaries between fantasy and reality are so blurred when I’m with him. I want this to be real, but I’m scared of the consequences of a reality that involves me dating an alpha. “You’ll never doubt how much I love you.”

I moan when his lips crush mine. The kiss only intensifies my developing feelings for him. I’ve never considered having a Daddy who spoils me outside the bed, but Harry is triggering something deep within me that demands to have a real connection.

I feel like I’m in a spa. My body is buoyed by a sense of relief and safety. I’m in good hands. At no point do I feel unsafe or uncomfortable. Harry has great intuition about what parts of me need and how much pressure.

“I want to spend hours licking and stroking your soft skin. I want to discover the parts of you that have been neglected.” His tongue glides up my inner thigh, setting off a slow burn in my groin.

I’m so close to coming and he hasn’t even put his fingers or mouth anywhere near my pussy yet.

I cry at his gentleness. I know I chose to have steamy sex-only encounters with random men, but I miss being cared for. Someone who wants to know my body inside out and spend countless days finding out my sweet spots is so much more than a fuck buddy. I never thought I needed someone like that.

Tears of pure ecstasy roll down my cheeks when Harry’s tongue finds its way into my wet folds. He sucks on my clit. Hot currents of bliss thrash inside me. Whenever he stimulates my pleasure center, a symphony of aches builds up between my legs.

“I’m going to come…” I cry. I’m both embarrassed at coming so fast and shocked.

“Call Daddy’s name when you feel good.” Harry’s deep voice vibrates against my aroused pussy, heightening the fever in my channel.

He wriggles his tongue into my empty hole, filling it with a pale imitation of his hardness. Nevertheless, my walls clench around his tongue, reaching for a higher peak. The dance of his tongue against my feminine lips continues until I’m broken and sobbing from the need to come.

Harry senses I’m close to the edge too.

He sniffs my wet sex. Wolf shifters have supernaturally strong senses so I’m sure he can smell the wetness oozing from my pussy. I want to hide how much I love him commanding me in a sexual sense, but I’m just too turned on right now.

Just when I need the final nudge from his tongue to push me past my limits, Harry removes his mouth, leaving me in a hornet’s nest of frustration.

“I’m close, Daddy.” I whine.

“You’re not allowed to come until Daddy’s cock is inside you.” Harry presses my wrists into the mattress with his hands. “I want to feel your pleasure contracting around me.”

Before I can question him, he drops his pants and quickly rips his shift and waistcoat off his body. He’s completely naked now.

My pussy cramps with greater desire when I become aware of his powerful body. You’d think he was a Greek God from the perfect formation of his torso. The two cuts of muscle that dip into his hips fan my lust.

But it’s his cock that takes my breath away. It’s so thick and huge. I’ve seen cocks before. A lot of them actually. But none like this.

I guess this is why he’s an alpha. I know an omega’s body is also much curvier than other women and he has probably never seen boobs the size of mine.

“It is big.” A hint of panic rears its head, but Harry hushes it with a soothing press of his palm against my wet entrance.

“Don’t worry. I prepared you well. It won’t hurt.” He reassures me. His understanding of my fears makes our intimacy feel layered and deep. Harry positions his cock at my entrance. I can tell he’s excited to penetrate me. “Will you be a good baby girl for your Daddy and take his cock?”

“Yes.” I’m breathless with anticipation. After that orgasm, my pussy is open with relaxation. I need a little roughness now to offset the sweetness from before. “Give it to me hard, Daddy.”

I scream when he enters me, breaching my tightness with incredible strength. I feel his intrusion ringing in my bones, setting my cells on fire. I’ve been altered in some fundamental way by his penetration even though my mind can’t grasp how.

Our joining feels like a primordial awakening. An event as old as time itself. The profoundness of our mating terrifies me.

“This feeling... oh my God.” I trail off as he thrusts deeper into me, making my body shake with the immense waves of pleasure inundating my blood.

My whole self goes numb as an orgasm spreads through me. It’s like a flower blooming in my core and spreading its sweet scent to the rest of my body.

“We’re mating, baby girl. This is how it always feels.” Harry’s locks of hair vibrate every time he thrusts into me. His forehead is slicked with sweat and his dark brown strands are wet with the proof of his exertion.

“Mating?” My confused words swim in the air as my body surrenders to an undoing like no other. “But you haven’t touched my gland.”

“I don’t have to.” Harry breathes out a stream of breath over my stimulated nipple. “Your body already knows it’s mine even if I never mark it with my teeth.”

The words make no sense, but the truth in them twists its way into my subconscious. I can’t explain what I’m experiencing, but I can’t deny that it feels like bonding with an alpha. Mere words can’t describe the rightness of our union like it was destined to happen. Like it has already happened for lifetimes.

I do believe in soulmates, but I didn’t think a one night stand could make my soul weep with longing over nothing more than another brush of his cock against my walls.

But this doesn't feel like just a physical coupling. This isn’t just sex.

Harry’s right. It’s two mates coming together and vowing silently to be together forever.

I make a promise without knowing I’m making one.

My pussy swallows his cock. Pangs of pleasure cramp my belly at every intimate contact with his cock. I’m already in the throes of a climax. How does it keep getting better? Why does my body feel more and more like it’s becoming his?

“Are you ready to be drenched in cum, baby girl?” Harry’s grin makes him look like an evil villain in a paranormal show.

I want to be part of his evil plot. “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry pushes into me one final time. Then he releases all his pent-up desire. Warm sticky release coats my insides and begins trickling from my seam.

I revel in the glorious sensation of feeling completely lost in someone else’s arms. Of becoming an alpha’s cum dump. I’m lucky that I’m an unmated omega because I can feel his cum slicking my pussy without worrying about consequences.

“That was beautiful. Transcendent.” Harry’s airy words wash over my face. “You were brilliant, Y/N. I love you so much. You are so perfect.”

Each successive compliment boosts my heart, making my chest swell. I feel good, not used. I feel appreciated, not appraised.

As the haze of bliss settles on me, my heart flutters with contentment. I’ve never had this kind of sex before. I felt wooed, loved, and taken care of. Is this why omegas fall head over heels in love with alphas? Because they know how to give us what we want?

I enjoy my orgasm until the very last moment when it all disappears into a puff of heavenly smoke. Harry’s still on top of me, watching me with a mysterious expression.

I place my palm over my chest, feeling my elevated heartbeat. “I feel like I’ve been to heaven and back.”

“That was only round one.” He replies, quirking his lips in an amused smile. “Will you sleep here tonight?”

There’s a vulnerability in his voice—a hint of his real feelings emerging through the alpha mask.

I can’t refuse. It’d break my heart to refuse him. I can’t understand why I have so much empathy and compassion for him, even though he’s an alpha.

But he’s not using his influence to make me obey. He’s just asking me.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, facing him coyly. “Sure.”

“We can order room service if you’d like. We’ll fill your belly before we continue.” Harry reaches for the phone on the nightstand. “Aren’t you hungry?”

My stomach growls. I giggle. “A midnight meal sounds good.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ❈ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─

» HARRY «

“You found your mate?” Tom—my secretary and best friend, also a wolf shifter—screws one black eyebrow upward. The silent judgment and the not-so-silent curiosity prickle my skin. “Can I see her picture?”

I growl. “Hell, no”

Tom’s body shivers with a deep laugh. “I see you’re getting possessive already, but what’s the point? She doesn’t even know she’s your mate. She could be scrolling the app now for another hookup, or having a sexy time with another man...”

The roar that rushes out of my throat is so loud and feral that even Tom flinches. He’s a beta so my aggression affects him badly. His shoulders tense like he’s ready to flee.

“Sorry.” I make an effort to reign in my primal rage at the thought of my mate being pounded by another alpha. “I drive myself crazy by imagining doom and gloom scenarios already so don’t make it worse. I’m starting to feel insecure and that’s not a feeling I’m familiar with as an alpha.”

“Okay, Alpha.” Tom rolls his eyes. “Then why don’t you contact her again and tell her you want her? Isn’t that what alphas are good at? Forcing people to listen to them?”

“I’m not an idiot, Tom.” I press my fingers on my throbbing temples. “I’ve lived for thirty seven years. Women hate being told that the reason I’m pursuing them is because their pheromones do it for me. They want to feel desired for their personality, not their biology.”

Tom throws up his arms in resignation. “Well, don’t come crying to me if she hooks up with another tough alpha and decides she’s going to marry him.”

“She isn’t going to marry anyone she doesn’t like and she definitely hates alphas.” I inform him. “She said it herself.”

“An omega who doesn’t want to be shackled?” Tom applauds as he approves. “You caught yourself a fiery one.”

I wonder why my chest warms when he calls my woman fiery. I love a challenge and Y/N is going to be a lifelong challenge. I can tell.

Fated bonds are mostly a compelling biological impetus, but my rational mind is equally captivated by my mate. My heart is growing feelings for her that have nothing to do with her ability to turn my cock into a hard pole.

It can’t be easy for an omega to be as empowered as she is. I want to know her past. I want to understand her present. Most of all, I want to find out who hurt her and made her afraid to trust alphas. Then I will destroy him.

“Honestly, I don’t care for marriage.” I open the door to my office, keeping it open so Tom can follow me in. “As long as I can be by her side, I don’t need anyone’s approval. You know mating bonds are much more powerful than any document.”

I couldn’t tell Y/N that she was my mate. She was so spooked by me being an alpha that I couldn’t bring it up without destroying the fragile trust we had built with each other. Not that it would matter to her. I’m a fuck buddy to her. Not even that. She said she never wanted to see me again. Which makes me a one night stand.

God, wondering if she hates me is driving me nuts.

But there’s one thing I remember. That is the way her eyes turned misty with happiness when I said I’d buy her flowers every day. She might act like she’s cynical, but deep inside Y/N wants romance as much as anybody else. She must have been hurt deeply by an alpha to believe she’d never find it.

If I have to win her trust, the first thing I need to do is to help her trust alphas again, to make her see that we’re not all domineering oppressors. She probably had her safety and boundaries violated before and I have to assure her that it will never happen again if she trusts me.

I quickly type a message to her. I’m relieved she hasn’t deleted our chat from before.

Harry: I know we agreed to never have sex again, but is it okay if I send you flowers? Just this once. You were such a good baby girl. I want to give you a gift to show how much I appreciated you last night. Consider it the last time you get spoiled by your Daddy.

“Hey, Tom, can you order me some roses?” I’m already instructing my secretary even though Y/N hasn’t replied to my text, but I know she will give in. She desires real love. She wants to be treated like she’s special and precious, not just another omega body to be bred.

“Sending them to your girl?” Tom asks.

“That’s right.” I grin. “It’s time I started wooing her seriously before my wolf kills me.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ❈ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─

» Y/N «

Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?

I can tell Harry is attached to me. He said he wanted to send me flowers because I made him so happy yesterday. I should have reminded him of our agreement to forget everything, but I texted him my business PO box instead. It won’t be difficult for someone like him to track me down if he puts his mind to it.

I bite my nails. Panic is spreading through my bloodstream.

Shit. What am I going to do if he finds me? If he forces his way into my apartment and makes me obey him with that sexy commanding voice?

Nervous, I check Omega Love Finder, determined to delete my message. But he has already seen it. Not only that, he has replied to it with a heart emoji.

I’m used to guys who would ghost me once they’ve had my body or demand I sleep with them again. I can’t comprehend why a sexy alpha with so much wealth and power would want to send me flowers because I gripped him well with my pussy. Isn’t that just a given for an omega?

Y/N: I hope you understand that while I appreciate your sweet gesture, I’m not looking for more with you.

Harry: I know. I just felt like spoiling you because I’m feeling good this morning. It’s all thanks to you.

His text hits me and makes me feel energized too. Nobody has ever said that being with me made them feel good.

My heart skips a beat. I hate that an alpha made me feel this way. Harry is dangerous. He’s making me reconsider all my boundaries.

I hate alphas. If you give them a little bit of control, they’ll take everything away from you. I have learned that with my father. I won’t be making the same mistake again.

Y/N: On second thought, forget about the flowers. Delete my address. I don’t want you showing up at my place. Not that they’d let you in since it’s an alpha-safe zone.

Harry: Baby girl, don’t panic.

Y/N: This feels like a trap. Like you want more from me.

Harry: I’ll send you flowers every day for the rest of our lives without ever asking for more if it makes you uncomfortable.

I stop and stare at that sentence on my screen for a whole minute. He typed that too fast for him to have strategized it. Then why is it so heartwarming?

Unconditional love is a myth. Even my dad didn’t love me unconditionally. Every gift came with a million strings attached. He wanted me to change for him. To be who he dictated I should be in return for taking care of me.

Y/N: I’m not giving you anything in return.

Harry: I didn’t ask for anything.

Y/N: I’m not going to be nice to you or sleep with you again.

Harry: I know, baby girl. Trust me, I’m not trying to con you. Just allow me to be your Daddy. Isn’t that what you want?

My Daddy. He wants to be my Daddy even outside the bedroom. He wants to spoil me with flowers and god knows what else if I let him.

A part of me sighs with happiness. I can’t believe such men even exist. I thought their population was wiped out somewhere in the last century and all the guys now think love is about what they can get, not the simple act of giving.

I sigh, feeling like a neurotic nutcase. Am I making a mountain out of a simple offer?

Nothing is more confusing than Harry Styles trying to be a gentleman. He’s like a dream that feels too good to be true.

My defenses automatically come up whenever my autonomy is threatened, especially by an alpha. Even though my instincts scream to let him take control, I know how miserable that made me in the past. I can’t let him shape my identity and who I am.

Y/N: Okay. I’ll let you. This once.

Harry: Thank you. If I’m being honest, I want to wine and dine you, take you shopping, and watch the sunset with you on the beach. But I know you’ll freak out if I actually suggested it. I’m just putting it out there. In case you wanted to be treated like a baby girl. It’ll be romantic, not sexual.

You know I like feeling emotions. I have enough money that it wouldn’t have to mean anything. Think about it.

My stomach goes hollow with a mixture of adoration and concern.

Harry has every right to express his feelings and desires, especially his desire to treat me well. The way he words his messages doesn’t feel pushy. He’s giving me a choice. He’s leaving the final decision in my hands. In the hands of an omega.

Omegas weren’t born to make decisions. Leave that up to an alpha, Y/N. My father’s often-spoken statement rings in my ears, bringing me back to reality.

No matter how nice Harry might be, on the inside he’s like every other alpha. I have to remember that. Otherwise, I’ll end up getting in trouble.

Y/N: Thank you for the kind offer, but I’m too jaded to believe that anybody would give me so much without strings attached. Like I said, I’m not looking to turn our ONS into a long-term thing.

Harry: Y/N, I know it’s hard to trust a stranger, but I want to make you believe that there are good people in the world. You deserve to experience pleasure and companionship without any obligations. So do I. So does everyone.

I’m seeing my bottom lip with my teeth again. Why is he so good at getting into my heart and saying all the right things?

I’ve distrusted alphas ever since my father tried to force me to mate with an alpha at sixteen. I ran away from home, but sometimes it feels like I’m still running away.

I’m an adult now. My father doesn’t own me. No alpha owns me.

Y/N: Keep your word and send me flowers for a week without mentioning anything more. Then I’ll consider it.

Harry’s reply is instantaneous.

Harry: Done.

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

The first bouquet of flowers arrives on the same day. I have to sign to accept the delivery.

It’s a massive profusion of red roses. Classic. Elegant. And heartwarming. There’s also a note with the bouquet.

I don’t know what kind of flowers you like. This seemed like a safe choice. Y/N, thank you for yesterday. I haven’t felt the way I do about you in forever. And please tell me what your favorite flowers are, otherwise I’ll tear my hair out in anxiety over having made the wrong choice.

Harry x

I don’t want to text Harry too much because I know he has an important job and doesn’t need me to distract him, but the note and the fact that he says he’s anxious about miffing me with his choice of roses is too cute to pass up.

Alphas assume what you like.

No, scratch that.

They tell you what you should like.

It was always like that with my father. He chose the clothes I wore, how much makeup I could have on, what I said, and whom I talked to. Even though my dresses were modest and demure, with high necks to cover my mating gland, he’d tell me that omegas should always be obedient and wear what their alpha wants them to. That we’re here to bear children and comfort our alphas, not self-express through fashion.

I hated those clothes. I boiled in them and they made me look like a Victorian matron, doing nothing to show off the parts of me that are gorgeous and deserve to be looked at.

That’s why I wear revealing clothes now. I show my breasts because hiding them only makes it more obvious that I’m an omega.

My fingers are shivering on the phone screen. Despite having worked on my issues, I’m still kind of terrified about telling an alpha what I like, especially when it’s non-sexual.

Y/N: I got the flowers. I don’t mind roses, but I love sunflowers.

There is no response for an hour. I’m not the type of girl who waits on men. I have a life, a business, and goals. I try to work on my client’s brief and soon, I have forgotten all about Harry and our exchange.

Until my phone pings.

And my body reacts instinctively, putting everything aside to check my messages.

Harry: Thank you for telling me. I hope to find out more about your preferences in the future. Also, sunflowers suit your fiery personality so good choice.

Good choice. An alpha praised me.

Harry actually indirectly told me that my preference was good, not inferior or wrong compared to what he picked for me. I cling to that moment of praise for far too long.

What is this wolf shifter doing to me?

⋆ ˚ ⊱ ✧ ⊰ ˚ ⋆

I receive sunflowers the next day. And the day after that.

For a whole week, Harry keeps up his part of the bargain. He never pressures me to message him. He doesn’t hint that he is looking for more from me either. More commitment, more sex, or more respect. In fact, he always waits for me to message first before replying.

I love how intimate and cute our exchanges feel. I don’t feel unsafe with him because he’s far away. But even if he was standing next to me, I knew I wouldn’t be scared of him.

Y/N: It’s unfair that you know what flowers I like, but I don’t know your favorite.

Harry: Orchids.

Y/N: Expensive and rare. Suits a rich alpha like you.

Harry: Was that a compliment?

Y/N: You’re an alpha. You don’t need compliments. You have a natural superiority complex.

Harry: I need your compliments, Y/N. My inner wolf is hungry for your praise.

My heart skips a beat more and more. He’s always so sweet and genuine when he texts. And he’s that way in real life too. I know because I’ve met him.

A week passes and he doesn’t stop sending me flowers. But the part that really breaks me is that he never asks me again about going to dinner with him. He waits for me to bring it up. He trusts me to not have forgotten my stupid omega brain.

I make him miserable for another week before giving in to his charm and steadfastness.

I mean, I couldn’t resist forever, not when he has shown that he can respect my boundaries multiple times. By denying him means that I’m only denying myself something I’ve always dreamed about, which is being taken care of by someone who cherishes me.

So I was immediately on board when Harry said he wanted to wine and dine me and take me shopping.

Y/N: Hypothetically speaking, where would you wine and dine me?

Harry: Wherever you pick.

Y/N: I’ll let you pick.

Harry: What kind of food do you like?

I don’t even blink when he asks me for my preference before showing off his knowledge regarding the best restaurants in town.

I have come to expect consideration from him. And that’s dangerous.

We’re sex partners at best, and strangers at worst. What if I never find an alpha who will treat me as well as Harry? He’s ruining me for everyone else when I know I can’t have him. He’s a wolf shifter, which means he’ll only settle down with his fated mate. I’m just a temporary woman until he meets his forever love.

I’ve never envied a woman as much as I envy Harry’s future wife. Omega or not, she’ll be so well cared for by her protective husband.

After we text back and forth, he invites me to a restaurant I’ve never heard of. When I look it up online, it turns out to be an exclusive place catering to a high-end clientele. They only take reservations from people who are on their approved list. Since the establishment allows alphas, omegas, betas, and everything in between, I’m worried about an unmated alpha scenting me and trying to be aggressive.

I mean, I’m certain they have ways to prevent such incidents. They have to preserve their reputation. Plus, Harry will be with me. I don’t know why, but my body knows he’ll never let me be harmed in his presence.

The day of our so-called dinner date arrives quickly. Harry must have made time for me because he invited me out on a weekday night. Thursday night, to be specific. When we met at his hotel room last time, it was a Thursday too. I calculate that it has been almost three weeks since he first came into my life.

He has turned my world upside down in a few days and made me reconsider everything I thought I knew about alphas.

I can’t wait to peel back his layers and discover more about him. I’m usually disinterested in all men, but Harry has me intrigued—as a person though, not as a sexual partner.

Despite Harry’s vehement protests, I assured him that I’d be fine making my way to the restaurant on my own. I put on my sexiest outfit. A red body con dress with a deep neckline that shows off my perky massive boobs. I want to keep him squirming throughout.

Since the restaurant is in a crowded area, I take the subway.

There are special areas for omegas in the subway so I don’t have to worry about any unwanted attention.

I get off at the station closest to our date spot, but I’m immediately lost. Even after checking my phone, I still end up walking in circles. Worry lines dig into my forehead when I turn around and realize I’ve walked into a deserted alley.

At this time of a weekday, there are not many people here. Most of them have gone home from work. Darkness and shadows twist around the streets, broken up by a few streetlights.

My stomach cramps. At first, I dismiss it as an overreaction. However, it turns out to be a premonition.

“You smell delicious, sugar.”

I arc back at the unfamiliar voice.

It’s a man. Not a human man though. He also stinks of power and entitlement. An alpha shifter.

I quickly reach inside my purse for the pepper spray. But before my thumb forces the nozzle down, the alpha knocks it out of my hand.

“Now what do you need that for?” He’s so close to me. His rancid breath lashes against my face. “I’m going to take good care of your pretty cunt. You’ll feel so good. A tight omega cunt for my dick.”

Anxiety spikes in my chest. I try to move to pick up the fallen pepper spray, but he’s too strong. His muscles are like shackles closing around my wrists. He gains on me, pressing me against the brick wall and caging me with his limbs. I move and resist, but it’s of no use.

“You can’t do this.” I say as he tries to force a kiss on me. “I have a boyfriend. He’s an alpha.”

Harry is not my boyfriend, but alphas are always more careful around other alphas. Knowing that I have Harry is a relief.

The man who is trying to sexually assault me chuckles. “Can smell no alpha on you, sugar. When was the last time you got laid? If he can’t keep your slutty omega body satisfied, maybe it’s time you switched to someone else.”

It has been three weeks since Harry last came inside me. Alpha pheromones only linger for a day or two. I wish I had given in and slept with him last week.

“Let me go. This is illegal.” My throat swells with anger and helplessness. I ended up saying something I never thought I would. “I love my boyfriend. I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“Love?” The alpha is laughing like he has lost his sanity. “Omega bitches don’t love, sugar. They only crave alpha dick. They spread their legs for the richest and most powerful alpha who can put them in their place and put a baby in their needy wombs.”

“Omegas fall in love too.” I protest. My eyes are misting with tears. My rage is boiling over. I don’t care if I look weak and emotional. I can’t hold back all the hatred I’ve felt for alphas all these years. Alphas like this guy think they are Gods, but what they are is a disgrace. “I love him. And if you think you’re an alpha just because you’re strong, you’re just a weak man with a broken ego. A real alpha has a big heart. They’re self-controlled, generous, and protective. Not rapists.”

“Shut up—”

I recoil when he raises his hand at me. I wait for the slap to make contact with my cheek. I thought I’d forgotten it, but I still remember the sting of my father’s hand. He hit me every time I refused to go along with his plans. I used to fear him and his strength until I realized that he was even more helpless than me. He could never make me obey and he knew he could never make me love him. My mother had left him too. She was a beautiful omega who had shacked up with a richer alpha and divorced his ass.

Suddenly, I’m broken free from my thoughts by an animalistic growl. And there’s a wolf—a majestic animal with gray fur—in the alley.

Before I can wonder where it came from, it lunges at my rapist. Its claws tear off a chunk of his face as it rips his body away from mine. The man falls to the ground, bleed and bruised.

The wolf narrows its eyes at me, approaching me carefully. I’m already pasted against the wall with nowhere to run.

Is the animal going to attack me too? I know it’s a shifter, but I’m not sure how much rationality shifters retain in their animal form.

Wait. Maybe it is Harry?

Could it be him? He’s a werewolf shifter, isn’t he?

It takes all my courage to reach out and caress the animal’s fur.

“You saved me.” I say. “Thank you.”

The wolf’s ears flop down and it licks my hand, encouraging me to keep stroking its head. I think it likes being petted. I find that so adorable.

“What a good wolf.” I coo. “So handsome and strong.”

The wolf howls.

I love wolves. They’re like dogs, but fiercer. The animal’s light green eyes peer into mine. We communicate silently, forging an invisible bond. I know this wolf will remember me and I will definitely remember it.

The sound of my sexual assaulter getting up breaks our eye contact. The wolf leaves my side to slam its claws down on the man’s body.

My rapist howls in pain. He gives the wolf a dirty look. “Who are you?”

At that moment, the wolf’s form dissolves. It rearranges back into a human. I’ve never seen a man shift before, but it’s over in a flash so I don’t get to observe any details.

Then Harry’s there, standing in front of me with one foot on my rapist’s chest.

“Me? I’m the boyfriend she loves.” He replies, giving me a side-eye.

My face goes up in flames. I can’t believe he heard that. What if he thinks I meant it?

The rapist makes an inaudible noise.

“Don’t worry. I called the police.” Harry informs the other alpha. “They’ll throw your ass in prison so you won’t have to stay in this cold alley for long.”

He swivels and walks to me, placing his hands on my hips. “Y/N, I swear, I was ready to commit murder. You should have let me pick you up. You’re mine. Only my hands belong on your body.”

He bares his teeth. His eyebrows are too thick like he’s still an animal. I sense that it’s the wolf that’s talking to me. The wolf I sensed a mysterious connection with.

Harry grips me hard like he’s trying to make me stay. His touch on me is bruising, but in the best way possible. I feel owned. Roughly claimed.

I love Harry’s inner animal. His spirit wolf is intense and possessive. Despite my reservations, I fall in love with this part of him immediately. After all, animals don’t have ulterior motives, only instincts. They only attack when threatened. There’s no malice or cruelty in their hearts.

“Let’s get you away from here.” Harry scoops me up in his arms, nuzzling my face with his nose.

I’m still trembling from the aftershocks of being harassed by an alpha. “How did you know to find me here?”

“I could smell you.” Harry replies, scrunching his nose. “Your scent is strong today. I could pick up on it even though I wasn’t close.”

I sniff my underarms, wondering what he’s on about. My stomach clenches. The throbbing between my legs is growing. I’m hot.

I finally understand what the stomach cramps from earlier meant. It wasn’t a premonition. It was my body’s natural cycle staking its claim on my sexual organs.

Harry’s pupils are dilated. He senses it too.

“Shit.” His eyebrows are knitted together in distress. All the hairs on his body are standing up in response to the potent scent that’s coming from my hot pussy.

I crumple his collar between my needy fingers. “Harry, I’m going into heat.”

┈ㆍ┈ㆍ⨯ * ₊ ୨ ♡ ୧ ₊ * ⨯ㆍ┈ㆍ┈

441 notes · View notes

arpicityandneed · 1 month ago

Note

Asking for a friend re: dark content Bucky, are we talking Bucky-Bucky, or like, are you also down with some Winter Soldier? Because WOW what a great look. Scared my ovaries so good.

Like, imagine the Soldier gets a bodyguard assignment to the daughter or wife of some SHIELD official. You're annoyed about having this mostly silent, kind of unsettling hottie shadow you constantly. So you get bratty, act out to try and crack that ice wall. "Kay fine, you need to keep an eye on me, I'll leave the door open to shower!" or "hey they said to pretend you're not even here, guess that means I can masturbate!" And you're not really sure what you expected to come of it, but it definitely wasn't getting railed because you managed to wake up half a century of repressed lust.

author's note: I mean all the dark content, Winter Soldier, Bucky-Bucky, dubcon, incest, all the good stuff. please ref my rules and guidelines <3

18+ Dark Content. Winter Soldier!Bucky. brat!reader. dirty talk. creampie. dubcon (mainly 'cause hydra). rough sex.

"Новая миссия Солдат." New mission, Soldat. The HYDRA handler handed the assassin the file, your seductive smirk in your profile photo making his stomach tighten. The sensation was new to him. But his response was the same it always was, a low husky rasp with no intonation.

"готов подчиниться." Ready to comply.

You didn't like your new bodyguard.

No matter how hot he was, he never spoke two words to you. All you got was da or net. He followed you everywhere and carried your bags and never seemed to sleep. You knew your dad was important to some big guys, but to think it would mean you'd be stuck with this ghost of a man with no way to sneak off wasn't what you had in mind.

He was just a big, hunking, idiot. With a metal arm. (You may have had a thing for the metal arm.)

He wouldn't let you drink since you were technically only 20, and killed any party just by standing there- not dancing, not moving, just watching you with his icy blue eyes.

It made you want to crack that perfect control he had.

"So you're really not going to leave that spot while I shower." You looked up at him as he stood at the threshold of the large ensuite bathroom in the hotel you were staying at while your father was having a business meeting.

"Da." He didn't smile, didn't frown. His handsome face was just always deadpan.

"Then I guess its not a problem if I leave the door open right?" You grinned, impish and bold as you started stripping. You new you looked good. It was the utter shamelessness of it all that had the Soldat's eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Bending over to drag your panties down your legs, letting him see your bare pussy before unhooking your bra. You sighed with relief as your breasts bounced free.

"Be a good boy and do what daddy paid you for. Watch me." You grinned when you saw him take a step towards you, your pussy gushing as you imagined him grabbing you and fucking you senseless. But he seemed to remember himself and stepped back. Firmly planting both feet and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Coward~." You sang as you stepped into the shower leaving the door open, its glass side walls fogging up as you lathered up your body. Touching every inch of yourself as slowly as possible making damn sure he could follow your hands with his eyes. His pupils were blown wide but it was the only sign he as affected.

You'd have to try harder.

"Ah!"

The Soldat was in your room in an instant the next morning even though you never heard the door unlock or open. He was ready for a threat, door locked so there was one less escape route for any intruders.

But all he found was you, on the bed with your legs spread- naked as the day you were born. A pathetic excuse for a plastic cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls as you fucked yourself over and over. One tiny hand was twisting your nipple and you were crying out loudly with every intention of making sure he could hear.

"Fuck!" You moaned as you met his eyes, pure mischief in your gaze. "Shouldn't be a problem, right Soldat? Just, nngh, watch me."

You never even saw him move, but suddenly he was on you. Snatching the dildo and dragging it out of your pussy before throwing it across the room.

"Этого будет недостаточно для такой шлюхи как ты." That won't be enough for a slut like you. He growled as he quickly undid his zipper, you barely had a glimpse of his girthy length before he was lining himself up. He didn't even bother to take off his tactical suit before fucking into your slick hole in one overwhelming thrust. It knocked the air out of your lungs.

"M-more!" You whined as you clawed at his back uselessly, your tiny pussy stretched almost painfully wide as you strangled his cock.

"Заткнись и возьми это." Shut up and take it. He was hissing in your ear with ever balls deep thrust, groaning as he felt pleasure for the first time in over 30 years. Your pussy was heaven he was sure. And he was never letting you go.

Every squelch and slap of his hips on your ass filled the room until it was a symphony of decauhery. You were being used, and somehow the knowledge made your blood burn with desire.

"Use me, fuck, cum in me please-" you begged as you felt your orgasm growing. The blunt head of his cock was dragging against the spot inside you that you'd barely been able to reach with the dildo. Your eyes were crossing every time his fat cock bottomed out inside you, and you knew you were going to cum harder than you ever had before.

"Просто теплое место которое я могу использовать по своему усмотрению." Just a warm place for me to use. He purred the words in your ear, and you cried out when you felt his skilled fingers making quick tight circles over your sensitive clit.

You bit down on his throat, the only skin you could reach to stop yourself from screaming as you gushed around his cock. (It was only later, much later when you were being interrogated about where the Asset had gone, that you realized the bastard had made you squirt.)

His grip on your hip became bruisingly tight but you didn't care, not when his thrusts were getting sloppy.

"Do it, cum in me, get me pregnant I don't care just-" His other hand, still slick with your juices slapped over your mouth as he growled at you.

"Я сделаю тебя матерью. Я сделаю тебя своей." I'll make you a mother. I'll make you mine.

You shivered, not understanding anything but the possessiveness in his tone. Your hole clenching around him and he was done for.

His load was endless. He fucked you through it, stuffing his seed as deep inside as his cock could reach. In your lustful haze you realized you truly wouldn't mind having the child of a man like him. You knew he'd protect you both if it ever came to that.

You must have fallen asleep after that because when you came to the window was open, and there was a pillow under your hips.

He was gone.

(pt 2)

#winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky ☆#winter soldier #dark ☆#tw dark content #ask to tag #request ☆#james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #f!reader #mina writes ☆

550 notes · View notes

letorip · 1 month ago

Note

helping tara through an asthma attack?

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby

“as long as you’re with me, you’ll be just fine”

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: after tara’s date ghosts her at a party and tara forgets her inhaler, you help her through her asthma, and in the process reveal how much you really care for each other

warnings: angst at first but quickly turns to fluff, mentions of asthma, small medical crisis, confessions and kissing, for the most part, fluff

word count: 2.8k

A/N: a very adorable and small oneshot i got to write! thank you for the request, it was greatly appreciated and im sorry i only got to finish it now! i cut down a lot for time's sake but i did get it done, so sorry iff it's shorter, i left more irrelevant bits out

*also, i am english and know little to nothing about new york, but i did my best

===+++===

She wasn’t doing a thing that you could see except sitting there on the stairs, leaning on the bannister, holding the universe together.

Parties were many things, but you had never considered them beautiful. Tara Carpenter was what made them beautiful. Grabbing you tightly by the hand and tugging you onto the dance floor despite your protests, brushing the hair from your clammy forehead when you had too much to drink, and, even now, frowning at the bottom of the staircase. That was beautiful. It was so beautiful that calling it a crush didn’t feel like enough.

She doesn’t see you until you clear your throat from the other end of the foyer, leaning on the doorframe. It’s almost empty, most people squeezing into the kitchen and living room on the other side of the house, and you can hear Jump Around muffled through the walls.

“Looking for me?” she asks, a grin forming. It’s infectious, but Tara’s an infectious person: anything she does, she makes you want to do it too.

You smile back. “Always,” you nod, shoving your hands into your pockets and crossing the room to set yourself down next to her. Neither of you say anything for a minute, watching the few people go by, Tara picking at her nail polish and fiddling with her cup.

"Is this (Y/n)-code for wanting to leave?” Tara says after a while, nudging you gently with her knee. You shrug. You’d do the right thing always when it came to Tara. No matter how much fun you had been having, her frown came first, and you’d be damned if you didn’t try to lift it. Staying at the party longer would only keep reminding her how she had been let down again.

“It is getting kind of late," you murmur. She scoffs, shifting away from the railing and resting her head on your shoulder, nuzzling herself into your neck.

"It's only 12.” You can feel the vibrations of her voice against your body, warm and human. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you leave while the party’s still young?”

“A kind one,” you snort. “I’ve got a bed calling my name.”

She hums, pretending to think on it for a second, and then nods. “Five more minutes.”

You say okay and sit back in silence, letting the background music wash over you both. The clinking of bottles and laughter from the other room is loud, but mostly, you can hear her breathing against you, slow.

Tara lifts her head from your shoulder, taking a sip of her drink. “I think he’s a no-show,” she mutters after another minute, staring down into her cup and biting her lip.

“Yeah,” you nod, giving her a sad smile and bumping her with your shoulder. “What an asshole.”

It lifts her a little bit for a momentary smile that flickers in your direction, but it falls away again. “He was a really nice asshole. Something about me ‘deserving more’ and seeing ‘the real’ me.”

You hum at the sincere line said before by all too many insincere people. Tara was always the real her, and it was part of what made her so… her. Even her attempts to hide her wounds only made them more visible. To suggest otherwise was to mean he hadn’t known her very well. “It was the guy from the karaoke bar, right?” you ask.

She nods, eyes looking a little misty. You remember him well— reeking of alcohol and jostling her shoulder harshly while they sang Copacabana off key and miraculously off beat. You hadn't liked him much then, though you never did when it came to who Tara had moved onto. You hated him now, for almost making her cry.

"I guess someone told him about the attacks," she mumbled. "He said he didn't 'want to be next.' Funny part is I don't either."

"He's just a knob," you say, shaking your head. Then, you remember a particularly special piece of information you had been holding onto for the few weeks she had been talking to him. You lean into her ear, smirking as you whisper. "Though from what I heard, he didn't have a particularly large one."

It finally manages to pull a giggle from her, and she smacks you on the leg with a brilliant smile, the one that always makes your heart beat a bit faster. "What a perverted thing to say," she chides, rolling her eyes, but she still so clearly finds it funny.

"Coming from you, that's super rich," you tease. "Your imagination's gonna get you a passport to hell one day."

She smacks you on the arm again. "Come on, we should get you home, you've clearly had too much."

"So all I've got to do to convince you it's time to leave is make dirty jokes?" you grin as she stands, turning to you with an outstretched hand. You take it, letting her pull you up from the staircase.

"Nope," she replies, popping the p. "I just think it's nice out tonight."

"Yeah right," you say, walking towards the mountain of coats, grabbing her pink puffer one from the pile and then your own heavy jacket. "It's cold as hell."

"To you, you big baby," Tara teases, ditching her cup on the nearby mantle. She still zips herself all the way up, shoving her hands into her pockets, until she looks down. "Shit."

You furrow your eyebrows, turning around from zipping up your own. "What?"

"My shoe's untied," she groans. "And I already zipped this damn thing up." You roll your eyes. She could easily unzip it and do it herself, but you know she doesn't want to.

"Just ask already, slick."

She's beaming at you again and you suck in a breath at the way her brown eyes always seem to twinkle, even in dim lights. "Tie it for me?" When you don't move, she clasps her hands together mockingly. "Please?"

"And we have a winner," you grin, bending down. She's wearing her beaten-up white Converse, and you tie it quickly, double-knotting the old, weathered laces. "Y'know, for the holidays, I'm getting you a new damn pair, these things have definitely seen better days—" you stop in your tracks when you look up. Tara's eyes are watching you with an odd expression you can't place, in a way you've never seen her look at you before. "What?" you ask.

As quickly as it flashes, Tara shoves it away, shaking her head. "Nothing, nothing." She herself seems surprised, blinking a few times as you stand back up. "We should go."

"Okay," you shrug, shoving your hands into the pockets of your pants. Tara leads the way out through the propped-open front door, right out into the cold. Tara lets out a cough, out into the air, and it turns to a condensation cloud in the cold.

New York is already icy, gearing up for winter, and the trees have shed their leaves to become small, barren branches. The house party wasn't that far from your flat or Tara's, which was part of why Sam was so okay with the both of you going. The only person more protective of Tara than you was Sam.

"So, how'd you find that out about him?" Tara asks, coughing, taking your arm in hers. She always said you were freakishly warm to the touch, but right now, it was probably a plus.

"I told you we have class together, right?"

Tara nods, her breath a little wheezy. "Yeah?"

"I talked to this girl, Ada, in that class, and she said it was true. I didn't ask how she knew, though, but she really laid into him for being an asshole."

"Hm," she hums. "And you didn't say anything about it?" You know she's teasing, but you shake your head.

"You seemed excited about him, and you can make your own choices. Plus, I didn't know if you'd really care, to be honest." She doesn't say anything back, but that weird look is back on her face, so you avert your own eyes, feeling a burning on your cheeks.

"Thanks," she whispers. "You always trust me more than Sam does."

The both of you walk about another block before Tara speaks again. "I'm hungry," she says, coughing into her hand.

"I've got food at mine?" you suggest, the cold night air tickling at the roof of your mouth as you speak. The tips of your ears are freezing, as is the back of your neck, and you shiver after a particularly harsh gust of wind. It's unforgiving, in that way, and the wind barrels down the tall streets, chilling people throughout the winter. Tara coughs again and you shoot her a look.

"This cold air is really messing me up," she says with an eye roll. "I'll be okay, let's just get home." You send her another wary glance but turn your attention back to the city. You and her pass a few high rises with people in the warm windows.

"Must be nice to be indoors right now," you grin. Tara smirks right back at you.

"Maybe we should've just stayed in and watched some movies."

You roll your eyes. "Oh, now who wants to take my suggestion?"

"Yeah, well, now I've got the bath calling for me," she says, unlinking your arms to adjust her jacket. "That and Love Is a Losing Game and the block button."

"Poor baby," you tease. "Must be nice having a bathtub."

"It is," she nods, still fiddling with the zipper and pulling it down a little. "I can have all the wine and bubble baths I want." She's still coughing, struggling through her words.

"Greedy," you laugh, walking on ahead. You get only a few steps before you notice Tara isn't following you.

"Hey, what—" When you turn around, you can see her eyes wide, and she wanders towards the curb, plopping herself down on the freezing pavement and clutching at her throat.

"Shit," you rush, quickly coming over and kneeling down in between her knees as she continues to cough. "Shit, shit, shit." Her eyes are wild as she struggles to breathe, and she grabs your hand tight, squeezing it sharp with her nails. "Tara, what's happening? Is this an attack?"

She only manages a small nod, coughing awfully and trying but failing to take in a wheezy breath. You swallow the lump in your throat, looking around for someone, anyone, but the street is deserted. "Where's your inhaler? Where is it?"

Tara's nails dig into the skin of your hand in between her coughing, drawing small crescent moons of blood. Her other hand goes to her jacket, lifting up the bulge over her chest that is her interior pocket. You nod, trying to unzip it, but for some reason, it's not coming down.

Her eyes are full of fear and the brimming of tears as she struggles to breathe, and you mess with the zipper, trying to pull it down in the cold. "God fucking dammit, it won't—" you try to explain, yanking on the damn thing, which continues not to budge. Her own fingers reach up to try and get at the zipper, but you beat her to it, harshly ripping it open.

Her medicine bag falls right out, and you open it, dumping everything out onto the pavement and picking up her small blue inhaler. She sends you that weird look again as you shake it for a few seconds, handing it over. She takes a wheezy breath out and places the inhaler over her lips as she shuts her eyes, breathing in as deep as she can. You wait nervously as she holds it in her mouth, before finally letting out a much easier exhale.

Tears are pricking the corner of her eyes, and you raise a soft hand to gently brush them away with the pad of your thumb as relief washes over you. She's breathing and she's okay, and that's all you really care about.

Tara's hand finally drops its grip on yours, and though your hand is stinging in the places she drew blood, you pay it no mind. You turn your attention to her medicine bag, picking up the bottle and bandaids you dumped out as she waits and takes another puff. You don't say anything, just silently start picking up her things and putting them away, zipping up the bag.

When it's in order, you give her a gentle smile and put the bag back into her jacket, plopping yourself down next to her as you wait for her to let you know she's okay. After another puff and about another minute, her breath is slowed, and the fast beating of your heart begins to slow as well.

===+++===

Tara doesn't say much, staring out onto the street in total silence as she takes deep breaths in and out. You watch her with a worried expression, tensing every time she lets out a cough, but it's quickly pushed away as her lungs relax. Even after twenty minutes go by, you both remain there, sitting in silence, your eyes never leaving her face, except for the occasional passing car.

After long enough, she scoots a bit closer to you, letting her own eyes find yours. "That was scary," she whispers.

"Yeah," you nod. "Sorry about... well, your jacket. I think I might've broken the zipper. Guess I'll have to get you that for the holidays too—"

She raises her hand, brushing some hair back from your forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment and then brushing themselves down your cheek. You freeze at the touch of her cold hands but do not pull away, feeling her trace your jaw and then lower, her hand stopping against you just below your collarbone, right above your heart. She's so close you can hear her breathing, feel her warmth and how it fans out across your cheeks.

"Tara—" you breathe, but before you can finish the sentence, which wouldn't have been particularly coherent anyway, she gently presses her lips against yours. It's soft and gentle, her lips slotting against your own in a perfect match. Before you can even process the divine sensation or try to give anything in return, she's pulling away, squeezing her eyes shut and apologising.

"Sorry, sorry, I must've gotten it wrong, I just, well...," she starts. Your mind is reeling at a thousand thoughts a second. "It's just that you're always there for me when no one else is, and I guess I—"

But this time, you're the one to cut her off. You lean forward, not even caring what else she has to say, instead kissing her back hard. She groans into it, her hands cupping your cheeks, holding you against her. It's magical, she's magical, and all those moments of wishing it was you she was kissing are gone because you are the one she's kissing.

Your hands slip around her waist, holding her against you as your lips move together in sync, the breeze gently moving against your skin. "I love you," she says against you, pulling you back in. It's softer than your hungry attack, but you cherish it more, letting her pull away and rest her forehead against yours. Once more, the cold is tickling at the newfound warmth you feel.

She pulls away from your lips but not from you. "I think I thought love was supposed to be this grand, tight battle. It's what my life was, some big battle. But not you. You're as easy and helpful as breathing. I love it about you that you love everyone else, too," she whispers. She reaches up placing a kiss upon your forehead. "Get it?" she laughs. "Breathing?"

"Too soon," you scoff, shaking your head. "I've loved you a long time, Tara," you reply, feeling your cheeks flush. "Through the assholes and the cowards and the people who wanted me. I've loved you. It might be chronic, I think I always will." You're so damn warm it's antithetical to the freezing chill that attempts to throw itself at you and Tara, only to be batted off by your hands upon each other.

She lets out a soft smile, putting her head back on your shoulder, only this time, it's your other one. "Maybe I should almost die more often if it means I get to have you."

You shake your head, leaning it against hers. "That's not funny," you scoff, and she rolls her eyes at you, gently prodding you in the side. "Besides," you smile. "You can have me any time now, you dork."

"That sounds nice," she hums against you. "But I still want pizza."

"Do you want to come back to mine? I think I have one in the freezer."

"Hm," she murmurs, then nuzzles deeper. "Five more minutes."

As easy as breathing, together.

===+++===

really struggled with the ending speech but i kind of liked not really having one? it's just kind of understood. no nice-guy 'it was me all along' or 'i'm sorry i didn't notice you sooner.'

#answered #letorip #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x y/n

419 notes · View notes

misaerabl · 2 months ago

Text

Off The Ice

HOCKEY PLAYER ABBY X JOURNALIST READER SUMMARY: You were tasked with covering your university’s women’s hockey team, you see it as your chance to prove yourself worthy of becoming the next chief editor. Your main focus is Abby Anderson, the team’s star forward known for her cold, distant reputation. After observing her a few times, you’re surprised when she starts to warm up to you—unveiling a side of her no one else seems to see. WARNINGS: scissoring, eating out, fingering (both a and r receiving and giving). I would say this is kind of a fluff with smut TT. A/N: this is my early Christmas present tee hee.. I went on a bit of a whim writing this… SMUT WITH PLOT or PLOT WITH SMUT WTV (please let me know if I miss any warnings!)

click here for part 2 (christmas special)

The newsroom is buzzing with the usual chaos of deadlines and last-minute assignments. You’re sitting at your desk, scrolling through your laptop when your editor, Dina, stands by the door, holding a clipboard with the next round of assignments.

“Alright, people, we’ve got some big matches coming up,” she says, her eyes scanning the room. “I need someone to cover the women’s hockey team. We’ve got scouts coming to the next game, so make sure it’s more than just a game recap. I want a real story, got it?”

You glance up, the opportunity immediately catching your attention. The women’s team has been making waves lately, and Abby Anderson, the star forward, has been all anyone’s talking about. Known for her ruthless play and icy demeanor, she’s a force on the ice but practically a ghost off it. No one has really gotten the chance to uncover what makes her tick.

“I’ll do it,” you say, raising your hand before anyone else can speak up.

Dina looks at you, surprised. “You sure? It’s a tough one. A lot of pressure to get a unique angle.”

“I think I’ve got a good angle,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I want to write about the team, but also about her. There’s more to Abby than just her game stats.”

Dina raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Alright, you’ve got the job. But make it count.”

As she walks away, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. This could be your shot at making your mark—and maybe even getting that chief editor position. You grab your notebook, already mentally outlining your approach. The real challenge, though, won’t be writing the story—it’ll be getting past Abby’s walls.

A few weeks later, you're sitting in the stands of the rink, notebook in hand, watching the women’s hockey team practice. The cold air cuts through the arena, but you're too focused on your task to notice.

Abby Anderson moves like a storm on the ice. Her swift, powerful strides cut through the rink with precision, her eyes locked on the puck, her focus unbreakable. She’s the kind of player who makes it look easy, but you know there’s more to it than that.

You’ve been attending practices for days now, trying to catch glimpses of Abby when she’s not in game mode. But so far, she’s kept her distance. She’s all business, all the time, barking orders at her teammates and keeping her interactions brief. If anyone speaks to her off the ice, it's either short and to the point or completely ignored. You’ve yet to get more than a few sentences out of her.

You jot down a few notes, trying to focus on the team’s dynamics, but your eyes keep drifting back to Abby. She's skating alone now, practicing shots at the net, her intense movements betraying any hint of vulnerability. You wonder if she ever lets anyone see that side of her—the one that's not all about hockey, about being the best.

“Hey.”

You jump, startled, and look up to find Abby standing next to the railing, her skates still on, but her posture relaxed. She looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“Uh, hey,” you reply, quickly trying to gather yourself. "Just—just taking some notes. You know, for the article."

She nods, glancing at the rink before looking back at you. “How’s it going so far? Got a good story yet?”

You hesitate, unsure how much of the truth to reveal. “I’m still working on it. It’s hard to find the angle everyone’s expecting… but I think I’ll get there.”

Abby studies you for a moment, her face still as hard to read as always. “Just don’t make me sound like a robot on the ice. I know how that goes.” She smirks, her first real hint of a smile.

You can’t help but laugh, relieved. “I’ll do my best to capture the whole picture. Not just the stats.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Good. Keep it real.”

With that, she turns and heads back to the ice, leaving you standing there, heart racing slightly faster than usual. You watch her skate off, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had before. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to get past her walls.

But you also know it’s just the beginning. There's more to Abby Anderson than the game, and you’re determined to find it.

A few days later, you’re standing in front of Abby’s dorm, the familiar nerves creeping in. The article deadline is approaching fast, and you’re still struggling to break past Abby’s walls. But today is different. After days of awkward exchanges and hesitant small talk after practice, you finally managed to convince her to sit down for a real interview.

You took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and heard the faint shuffle of movement from inside. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Abby in a casual hoodie and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in her signature braid. The intense, icy exterior you were used to wasn’t there—she looked... normal, like a regular college student.

"Hey," she said, offering a small, almost reluctant smile. "Come on in."

You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of the room instantly contrast with the chilly vibe Abby often projected. The space was clean but a bit cluttered, with hockey gear tossed on one side and textbooks scattered on her desk. It felt strangely intimate like you were seeing a side of Abby no one else ever had access to.

"Sorry about the mess," Abby muttered, gesturing to the pile of equipment. "I’m usually just too tired after practice to clean."

"No worries," you said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. "Thanks for agreeing to this. I know you’re not exactly a fan of interviews."

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, instead grabbing two water bottles from a shelf and tossing one to you. "Let’s just get this over with," she said, her tone a little more playful than usual. It was as if the pressure from earlier had eased just a bit.

You smiled, grateful for her willingness. "I won’t take too much of your time. Just a few questions about... well, everything. Hockey, life. What it’s really like being Abby Anderson, off the ice."

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as she considered your question. "What it's really like..." she echoed, her gaze briefly flicking to the window as if pondering the words. "You make it sound like I'm some mystery."

"Maybe you are," you said, more candidly than you expected. "No one really knows you beyond the ice. You're always the tough player who doesn't talk to anyone off the rink."

Abby’s gaze softened at your words, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she fiddled with the water bottle in her hands, turning it absently as she seemed to think about what to say. There was a quiet tension in the air, one that neither of you had expected when you first agreed to sit down.

"Yeah, I guess I come off like that, huh?" Abby finally said, breaking the silence. Her voice had a quiet edge to it, almost as if she was admitting something she hadn’t said out loud before. "I don’t really know how to be any different. It’s easier this way."

You felt a shift in the atmosphere, like she was allowing herself to be more open than she ever had before. The moment was subtle, but you couldn’t ignore it.

"I get that," you said softly, leaning forward. "But you’re more than just a hockey player, Abby. I mean, you’ve got layers—there’s got to be more to you than what we see on the ice."

Abby’s eyes met yours then, the intensity of her gaze making your heart skip a beat. For a brief second, you thought she might brush you off again, but instead, she looked almost… vulnerable.

"You think so?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as though she was testing you, seeing if you’d take her seriously.

You nodded, feeling a sense of connection you hadn’t expected to feel. "Yeah, I do."

A moment of silence stretched between you, and you could feel the energy in the room shift. The playful banter had evaporated, replaced by something deeper, more intense. Abby’s eyes lingered on yours, her lips pressing together as if fighting back something unspoken. You weren’t sure what was happening, but it was as if the ice around her was finally starting to melt, and in the stillness of her dorm, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

"I don’t usually do this," Abby said, her voice a little breathless. "Let people in, I mean."

The admission hung in the air, and you realized how rare this moment was for her. It was raw, real, and far from the icy persona she’d shown everyone else. There was no game face now, no walls.

"You don’t have to let anyone in," you replied, your voice lower now, almost without thinking. "But I’m not like everyone else, Abby."

She took a step closer, her eyes searching yours for a moment. Then, without another word, Abby’s hand reached out, brushing against yours—light at first, like she was testing the waters. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart raced as the proximity between you grew more charged, more electric.

"Are you sure about that?" she whispered, her voice shaky, unsure, but her eyes steady as she closed the space between you.

Before you could respond, Abby leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft but insistent. You could feel the toned, muscular strength in her arms as she held you, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The warmth of her body radiated against yours, the firmness of her form pressing gently but surely as her fingers slid into your hair. It was as if her whole presence surrounded you—strong, sure, yet still carrying a touch of hesitation.

The kiss deepened as Abby caressed your hair gently, her fingers threading through it with a tenderness that belied her fierce persona on the ice. It was a contrast—the hard, determined athlete and the softness of the way she touched you. The moment felt like a contradiction, one that both of you were willing to embrace.

When she finally pulled away, her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. She looked at you with wide eyes, lips slightly parted as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Her hand remained in your hair, fingers still grazing your scalp.

Abby’s hand lingered in your hair, her touch soft but steady, as though she needed a moment to ground herself. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, eyes still locked on yours, as if searching for something—answers, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

"That was..." Abby’s voice trailed off, her lips curling into a small, uncertain smile. "I didn’t think you’d be... like that."

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the kiss. "Like what?"

Abby shrugged, a little bashful for the first time since you met her. "I don’t know. I guess I just figured you’d be... different."

"Different how?" you asked, your voice quieter now, but there was a playful edge to it.

"Like... not so—" She gestured vaguely between the two of you, looking for the right words. "I don’t know. You’re not what I expected."

It was your turn to feel a little bashful. You didn’t know what to make of this sudden shift in dynamics, but there was something about Abby’s vulnerability, her uncertainty, that made you feel like maybe this—whatever this was—wasn’t just some random kiss. It felt more like a beginning.

"Maybe I’m not," you replied softly. "Maybe we’re both surprising each other."

Abby’s eyes softened at that, and she gave a slow nod. She seemed to be processing everything in silence, unsure of how to label the moment. She was still the tough, intense player on the ice, but the cracks in that persona were becoming more apparent now.

"Don’t go thinking this means I’m some open book now," Abby warned with a smirk, though there was no real bite to it. "I’m still the same Abby Anderson."

You laughed lightly, the tension easing between you two. "I never thought you were an open book."

"Good," Abby replied, her smile returning, warmer than before. She finally pulled her hand from your hair, though she kept her gaze locked on you, her lips still lingering with a hint of the kiss you’d just shared. "But maybe... just maybe... we can see where this goes."

You nodded slowly, your heart still racing, but your chest felt lighter, freer as if a new chapter was just beginning to unfold. "I’m willing to find out."

The quiet between you lingered, the air between you charged with something unspoken. Abby’s eyes softened, and for the first time, she didn’t seem like the intimidating hockey player. She was just Abby, standing in front of you, her vulnerability laid bare.

"Maybe we don’t need to talk about the article anymore," she murmured, her voice low, almost like she was thinking out loud. "Maybe we can just... be here for a bit."

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could respond, Abby was standing up, closing the space between you. The shift in her demeanor was subtle but unmistakable. She was no longer the distant athlete; she was someone who wanted more than just the interview.

"You make it hard to stay guarded," she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands slid to your waist, gently pulling you closer. Her body was strong, and solid, but there was a softness in the way she touched you, a tenderness you hadn’t expected.

You swallowed, your pulse racing as you met her eyes. "Abby..." You couldn’t find the right words, but you didn’t need to. The air between you both was thick with the weight of what was about to happen.

Abby’s lips found yours again, more urgent this time, less like a question and more like an answer. She kissed you deeply, her hands threading into your hair as she pulled you closer, her body pressing against yours with a heat that made everything else fade away. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as though she was savoring the moment. Her arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, like she was afraid to let you go as if the distance between you both had only made her want you more.

You melted into her embrace, your hands finding their way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as if you could close the gap that had always been there between you. She groaned softly, the sound low in her throat, sending a thrill through you.

When the kiss finally broke, Abby’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. Her hands gently cupped your face, her thumbs brushing across your cheeks as if memorizing the feel of you.

"I’ve been wanting this," she admitted, her voice hushed. "More than I thought I would."

You smiled, still feeling the rush of the moment. "Yeah," you whispered back. "Me too."

Abby’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. "This doesn’t change anything, right?" she asked, her voice a little uncertain.

You gently cupped her face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of her jaw as if to reassure her. "No," you said softly. "But maybe we can figure out what comes next..."

Her lips curled into a smile, and for the first time, it wasn’t guarded. It was real, and it was for you. "Yeah," she whispered, closing the distance again, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like the beginning of something neither of you was ready to define just yet, but both of you were willing to explore.

And as the kiss deepened, you realized that no matter what happened after this, you had stepped past the barrier that had once kept you both apart. Whatever came next, it was something neither of you were willing to walk away from…

She pushes you down on the couch, her body hovering above you. She stares deeply into your eyes as if she was asking for permission. You nod in response.

Abby buries her face in your neck, kissing and nipping it, making you moan in response

Abby's touch is confident and assertive, her hands roaming your body with an intensity that mirrors her personality on the ice. She knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to take it. Her fingers trace patterns on your skin, igniting sparks wherever they touch.

Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingertips trailing along your sides, feeling the soft skin beneath. You gasped at the touch, your hips bucking slightly. Abby took advantage of this, her hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss.

She broke away from your lips, her breath hot against your neck as she whispered, "Can I... can we...?" She nuzzled her nose against your jaw, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "Can I take this off?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, and she reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head.

As your shirt hit the floor, Abby's eyes roamed over your bare chest, taking in every detail. She reached out, tracing a finger over your collarbone, down your sternum, and across your abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

Her touch was light, reverent, as if she was worshipping your body. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and leaned down to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your chest.

You hissed in a breath at the warmth of her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair. She continued to place kisses all over your chest, her hands roaming over your curves. She paused at the waistband of your skirt, looking up at you for confirmation.

Seeing your nod, she hooked her fingers under the hem, pulling it up and off. She took a moment to appreciate what was revealed - your smooth legs, the curve of your hips, the lacy underwear that matched your bra.

Abby's hands slid up your legs, her touch leaving a path of tingling heat. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of your underwear, her eyes locked with yours. "Can I...?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper, full of need and uncertainty.

“Go ahead abby…”

With a nod and a shy smile, Abby slowly slid your underwear off, tossing it aside. She paused, her eyes taking in every inch of you, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

She heard you suck in a breath above her, and she looked up at you with a mischievous grin. Slowly, she leaned in, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as she pressed her mouth to you, her tongue parting your folds.

She started slowly, exploring you, learning what you liked. Your moans filled the room, encouraging her. She slipped a finger inside you, her mouth continuing its administration. You let out a low moan, your hands fisting the couch cushion as you tried to keep yourself grounded.

She added another finger, stretching you, preparing you. Your moans grew louder, your hips moving in rhythm with her actions. Abby looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears at your beauty. She withdrew her fingers and climbed up your body, claiming your mouth in a passionate kiss.

You could taste yourself on her, the evidence of her ministrations. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her closer. "Abby..." you whispered, your voice shaky,

"Mmm?" She murmured against your lips, grinding against you. She was still fully clothed, her pants rough against your bare skin.

"You're still dressed..." You panted, your hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. She grinned and sat up, pulling her shirt off in a swift motion. She reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside.

Her breasts bounced free, and you reached up to grasp them, squeezing and kneading them in your hands. Abby let out a pleased moan, her hands reaching for the button of her pants. She popped it open and slid the zipper down, shoving her pants and underwear down her legs.

Now Abby was completely naked, sitting astride you. You looked at her, taking in her toned stomach, her full breasts, the curve of her hips, her muscular thighs. She saw the awe in your eyes, and it made her feel powerful.

With a predatory grin, Abby lowered herself onto you. She wrapped her legs around yours, crossing her ankles behind your knees. She slowly rocked against you, her wetness rubbing against yours. You gasped at the new sensation, your hands gripping her thighs as she continued to move against you.

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against yours as she captured your mouth in a deep kiss. She sped up her pace, her breath coming in short pants against your lips. She reached one hand down between them, her fingers finding that bundle of nerves and rubbing in time with her movements.

You cried out into the kiss, your hips bucking up to meet hers. The sensation of her rubbing against you, combined with her fingers on your clit, was too much. You felt your orgasm building, your vision blurring as Abby continued to grind against you.

"Abby... Ab... I'm... I'm..." You stuttered, your words cut off by a moan as she quickened her pace. She felt you convulse against her, your hands clutching at her back, your face buried in her neck.

She smiled to herself, pleased with the effect she was having on you. She kept scissoring against you, her own orgasm building. "Look at you," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're so… perfect.”

As she spoke, she felt her own climax approaching. She increased the pressure between her legs, rubbing herself against you with frantic intensity. With a loud cry, she came, her hips jerking against yours as her orgasm overtook her.

She collapsed on top of you, her breath hot against your neck. You ran your fingers up and down her back, feeling the dampness of her sweat. "Abby... that was..." you started, but words failed you. She just chuckled and nuzzled your neck. "I know,”

She stayed on top of you, her arms wrapped around you in a loose hug. Her fingers traced patterns on your stomach as she nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. "Can we just…”

"...Stay like this for a while?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She nuzzled your neck again, her body pressing closer against yours. She felt content, happier than she had in a long time. She felt a connection with you, a bond forged in the heat of passion.

You nodded, not wanting to break the moment. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as you both lay there in silence. The only sound was the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft rustling of the sheets.

The next day came faster than you expected. You’d barely gotten any sleep, your mind constantly replaying everything that had happened after. But as you sat in the café near the university, waiting for Abby, your heart settled into something more focused. Today wasn’t about the sparks from the night before. Today was about the interview.

The café was quiet, the kind of place where you could lose yourself in the hum of conversation and the clink of cups and saucers. It was cozy, with warm light spilling from overhead lamps, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You had a lot on your mind, not just about Abby, but about the article and what this interview could mean for your future with the paper. If you did this right, if you got Abby to open up like she never had before, you might be able to prove yourself worthy of the next chief editor position.

A few moments later, the door to the café opened, and there she was.

Abby stepped inside, her usual confidence radiating from her as she scanned the room, her eyes locking onto you instantly. She was dressed casually—athletic but comfortable—and yet she carried herself with the same quiet intensity that made her a standout on the ice. Her gaze softened when she saw you, and the familiar spark of something more was there again, just beneath the surface.

She walked over to the table, giving you a small but genuine smile. "Hey," she greeted, taking a seat across from you. "You doing okay?"

You nodded, trying to steady yourself. "Yeah. Just a little nervous."

"Don't be," she said, her voice reassuring. "It’s just coffee, right?"

"Yeah. Just coffee," you echoed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you know... a little more than that, too. A real interview."

Abby chuckled, glancing around the café. "Right, well, let's make it count then."

You both ordered your drinks and for a moment, there was an easy silence between you. The pressure of the moment, of what had passed between you both, seemed to be melting away, replaced by something more comfortable, natural.

Finally, you picked up your notebook and pen, getting down to business. "Alright," you began, your voice steady but a little softer than usual. "Let’s start with hockey. You’ve been the team’s top scorer for a while now. How does it feel to be in the spotlight like that?"

Abby leaned back in her chair, her eyes focused on you. "It’s... a lot of pressure. But it’s part of the job. Being in the spotlight is something you just get used to. Especially when your team depends on you."

There was a confidence in her tone, but also something more—something that suggested the weight of being the best wasn’t always as easy as it seemed. You could sense the layers beneath her tough exterior, and you knew this was where the real interview would begin.

You pushed forward, asking more questions, and letting the conversation flow. As you spoke, Abby opened up more than you expected, revealing not just her thoughts on hockey, but glimpses of who she was outside the rink. She was driven, and focused, but there was a vulnerability to her that only seemed to surface when she talked about her team, her passions, and the sacrifices she’d made to get where she was.

The interview wasn’t just about facts anymore—it was about connection. And for a moment, you forgot about the article entirely.

After a while, Abby leaned forward, her eyes locking with yours, and you could feel the shift again. There was a quiet tension hanging between you both as if the world outside the café had faded away, and only the two of you existed in this small, intimate moment.

"You know," Abby said softly, her voice almost playful now, "you asked a lot of questions, but you haven’t told me anything about you. What made you want to write about me? About hockey?"

You blinked, taken off guard by her question. You hadn’t expected her to turn the tables. "I... guess I thought you were an interesting story. I mean, you’re kind of a mystery to everyone. The tough hockey player. The star who doesn’t talk to anyone off the ice."

Abby’s smile was small, but it felt meaningful. "I’m not really a mystery. Just... focused. You get that, right?"

You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "Yeah, I get it."

For a long moment, you both just sat there, the sound of the café filling the silence between you. The interview was far from over, but something had changed. It wasn’t just about the article anymore. It was about something else—something you both hadn’t been ready to acknowledge yet, but it was there, lingering in the air between you.

"You know," you said after a beat, "I think this might be one of the best interviews I’ve done."

Abby’s gaze softened. "Glad I could make it interesting," she said, her voice quiet but warm.

And as you sat there, talking about everything and nothing, you realized that what had started as a simple interview had turned into something else entirely. A new chapter, one you weren’t sure how to write, but were willing to explore.

The final game of the season was just days away, and the energy around campus was electric. You could feel the anticipation building with every passing hour. The women’s hockey team had worked tirelessly all season, and now, the championship was within reach. For Abby and the rest of the team, it was the culmination of all their hard work. For you, it was the final stretch to prove you could handle the pressure of being the next chief editor of the school paper.

You’d passed the draft of your interview to Dina, the current editor-in-chief, and she had loved it. The words flowed smoothly, and she could sense the connection between you and Abby without you having to spell it out. That feedback had given you the confidence to continue pushing forward, not just for the article, but for everything you had on the line.

But the days leading up to the final game felt like a whirlwind. You and Abby were both consumed with your responsibilities—her with the team’s last-minute practices and preparation, you with your final edits and deadlines. It wasn’t the ideal time for the two of you to reconnect, but you knew that after the game, everything would settle, and maybe you could find out what this—whatever it was—meant.

You found yourself in the quiet corner of the student lounge, typing away on your laptop, trying to finish your article before the big game. Your mind kept wandering back to Abby, though—how her smile lingered after the interview, how she’d looked at you across the café that day, like there was something more she wanted to say but couldn’t.

You hadn’t had time to talk since that day, and now, with the pressure mounting on both sides, you weren’t sure when you’d get the chance to sit down with her again.

The door to the lounge opened, and you didn’t look up right away, assuming it was just another student coming in for a late-night study session. But then, a familiar voice broke through your concentration.

"Hey, you."

You froze, the sound of Abby’s voice sending a familiar rush through your chest. When you looked up, you found her standing there, dressed in a hoodie and sweats, her long hair tied back in a messy bun. She looked exhausted, but there was a spark in her eyes.

"Abby?" you asked, surprised but a little relieved to see her. You hadn’t expected her to stop by.

"Yeah," she said with a small grin, taking a step closer. "I, uh, figured we should talk before the big day. We’ve both been too busy, haven’t we?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. "Yeah, it’s been crazy. I’ve barely had time to breathe with everything going on."

"I get that," she said, her eyes softening. "But I wanted to check in with you. How’s the article coming along? You’re going to be on top of the world when they publish it, you know that, right?"

A warmth spread through you at her words. "It’s... going well," you said, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. "I think Dina liked the draft. She said it’s one of the best interviews she’s read in a while."

Abby raised an eyebrow, a proud smile tugging at her lips. "I’m glad to hear that." She leaned against the table, her tone turning more playful. "But you better not make me look too good. I don’t want to get all cocky before the game."

You laughed softly, the familiar spark between you two returning. "I think I can keep it balanced."

Abby’s smile faded just slightly as she looked at you more seriously. "Listen, about... what happened before. I know we’ve both been busy, but I just wanted to say... I don’t regret it. Us, I mean." She paused, her gaze softening. "I guess I’m just trying to figure out what this all means, but I don’t want to run from it, either."

Your heart skipped a beat, the tension in the air thick with unspoken words. "Me neither," you said quietly. "I don’t know what this is, but I’m willing to see where it goes. After the game, maybe we can talk more."

Abby nodded, a small, genuine smile returning to her face. "Yeah. We’ll figure it out." She glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at you. "I should go, get some rest. Big game tomorrow, right?"

You nodded, feeling that familiar pang of disappointment that she had to leave so soon. "Yeah. Good luck, Abby."

She paused at the door, turning back to face you. "Thanks. And... I’ll see you there," she said with a wink before she disappeared into the night.

As you sat back in your chair, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything—despite the pressure of the article, the looming championship game, and the uncertainty about what you and Abby were becoming—you couldn’t deny the excitement buzzing in your chest. Tomorrow was the big day, and whatever came after, you knew you’d both be ready.

The final game had arrived, and the energy around campus was palpable. The buzz in the air was electric, with every student and faculty member talking about the championship match. You could feel the weight of the moment—this wasn’t just any game. For Abby and the team, it was the culmination of months of grueling practice, sacrifices, and determination. And for you, it was the finish line for your article—and maybe something more.

You had finalized your piece, and after getting Dina’s approval earlier that morning, there was nothing left to do but wait for the game to unfold. But as you stood at the rink, the sense of anticipation made it hard to focus on anything else. You watched as the team prepared, Abby at the forefront, looking every bit the fierce competitor you had come to admire.

Her movements were fluid, and powerful, slicing through the ice like she owned it. You found yourself drawn to her, to the way she held herself—confidence in every stride, but you could also sense something else, something beneath the surface. And though you tried to concentrate on taking notes for the article, every so often, you’d glance at her, catching her eye.

You were almost caught up in the rhythm of the game when the buzzer sounded, signaling the start. The intensity was immediate, the tension tangible in the arena. The crowd’s roars filled your ears, the game beginning in a blur of motion. You scribbled down observations, the action on the ice more chaotic than you had anticipated. It was difficult to focus on anything other than the game itself. Every move felt crucial, and Abby was right in the middle of it all, controlling the pace with every turn.

But it wasn’t just the game that had your attention. It was the way Abby played—how she seemed to be everywhere at once, her energy contagious, urging her teammates forward. She was the center of it all, and you couldn’t help but admire how she took charge, and how her presence seemed to push the team toward victory. She was sharp, a calculated force on the ice.

And then it happened.

Abby made an interception, gliding effortlessly past the defense. At that moment, time seemed to stretch out, the entire arena holding its breath as she lined up for a shot. Her eyes focused, and in one smooth motion, the puck flew off her stick and toward the net. The sound of the puck hitting the post rang out, but Abby wasn’t done. She was already there, crashing the net, securing the rebound, and slamming it in. The crowd erupted.

Your heart raced, the realization dawning on you that her goal had put them ahead—and it was the winning goal.

The game continued, but the tide had turned. With seconds on the clock, the buzzer sounded, and Abby’s team celebrated their victory. You stood in the middle of the crowd, still processing the intensity of it all. Abby had led them to victory, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for her.

You waited near the locker room, hoping to catch Abby after the game. You hadn’t been able to keep up with the excitement of the game completely, but you had seen enough to know this was her moment. The sound of the locker room doors opening echoed in your ears, and you spotted her almost immediately.

Abby stood out from the others, her usual focused demeanor softened by the thrill of the win. She was still in her gear, her face flushed from the game, but there was a lightness about her that hadn’t been there before.

"That was incredible," you said, your words a little breathless from the adrenaline of the game still coursing through you.

She looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It was a team effort," she replied, but you could see the pride in her eyes. "Still, I’m glad you were here to see it."

You smiled, taking a step closer. "You’ve earned it," you said quietly, meeting her gaze, trying to find the right words. "I’m proud of you."

Abby’s expression softened, her usual confident exterior cracking just a little. She leaned in slightly as if weighing her words carefully. "Thanks," she said, voice lower than before. There was a moment of silence between you two, the noise of the locker room buzzing faintly in the background.

For a second, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Abby’s eyes never left yours, a quiet understanding passing between you. There was no need for words, not now. The game, the season, the article—it all seemed to fade as you stood there, caught between the rush of the moment and the realization that this wasn’t just about hockey anymore.

As the team continued their celebration around you, Abby’s hand brushed against yours, a subtle connection that sent a jolt through you. She gave you a small nod before walking toward the rest of her team, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing from the game—and from everything that was unfolding between you and her.

The newsroom was alive with a flurry of activity, papers scattered everywhere as the final touches were being put on the issue. The clock ticked toward 8 PM, and you were sitting at your desk, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy. The article was done. Your piece on Abby, her journey to the championship, and the thrilling game had come together perfectly. The highlight of the issue, the one everyone was talking about. It felt like the culmination of everything—your hard work, your ambition, and the connection you had built with Abby.

As the editors rushed past, congratulating you on how well the article turned out, you couldn't help but smile. A few of them had asked you how you’d managed to make Abby open up, some even teasing you about her sudden warmth toward you. "Did you sweet-talk her?" one of the writers joked. "She’s been ice-cold with everyone else!" You just shrugged, your mind drifting to her last words to you after the game. "Just doing my job."

But as the energy in the newsroom built to a crescendo, Dina appeared in front of you, leaning in with a grin. "I think you just earned the spot as the next editor in chief," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the buzz of the room.

Your heart skipped a beat. You blinked, not sure if you’d heard her right. "Wait, what?" you asked, feeling a flush of disbelief and excitement rise in your chest.

Dina chuckled softly. "You’ve earned it. You’ve got the article everyone’s been talking about, and you’ve proven you’ve got the skills. I’m officially putting your name in for the position." Her eyes twinkled with approval as she walked off, leaving you stunned, your breath caught in your throat. This was it. This was everything you’d worked for.

As the evening wore on, the final issue of the paper was ready to go to print, and it was only a matter of time before it would be released at midnight. You stayed in the newsroom, helping with last-minute preparations, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Abby. What she’d said, what she meant to you now, and how the chemistry between you had grown in such a short time.

In the midst of the excitement, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. The message on your screen made your heart race.

Abby 🏒: Hey, where are you?

Abby 🏒: I’m still at the party btw

Abby 🏒: I want to see you.

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips as you typed your response, the warmth from her text a stark contrast to the cool air in the newsroom.

You: I’m at the paper, finishing things up. I’ll be there soon❤️

You felt a little giddy, your heart racing with anticipation. After everything, the article, the win, the promotion—it felt like the perfect moment to see her again, to see where everything between you would go.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, you closed your laptop, the rush of excitement bubbling up inside you. The paper would be published, and your future as editor-in-chief seemed all but certain. But as you left the newsroom, your mind was on Abby—and the night ahead.

As you turned the corner, the soft hum of the campus night air accompanied your steps. The excitement of the newsroom buzzed in your veins, but everything seemed to quiet when you saw her waiting for you.

Abby was leaning casually against the wall, a small smile tugging at her lips as she waited, the blue jersey she wore a bold contrast against the dimly lit hallway. It was the same one her teammates all wore, emblazoned with your university’s logo—proud and unmistakable. But even in something as simple as a jersey, there was still that undeniable pull to her presence.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you walked toward her. "You didn’t have to wait for me," you teased softly, though you were secretly glad she had.

Abby pushed off from the wall, stepping closer. "I wanted to. Besides, I promised I’d see you tonight, didn’t I?" Her voice was playful, but there was something softer in her gaze, something more sincere.

You nodded, the air between you light and easy, but still charged with that undercurrent of something more. "You did," you agreed. "And, uh, I actually have something to show you." You pulled out your phone, tapping through the screens until you found the article you’d written.

Abby raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the screen. "No way," she said, her lips curling up slightly. "You actually made me sound like a good person."

You laughed, but there was a warmth spreading in your chest. "I didn’t just make you sound like a good person, I made you sound amazing." You swiped down, showing her the headline: "Abby Anderson: The Heart of the Winning Team." The words felt just as true as when you’d written them.

She studied the screen for a moment, her fingers brushing lightly against the phone. "I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to get me to open up like this," she said, her voice quiet, almost thoughtful. "But you did. So, thanks."

Your heart raced at her words. The sincerity in her voice made everything feel more real, like something was shifting between you two.

Abby looked at you, her gaze holding yours for a moment longer than usual, before the silence stretched. The sounds of the party down the hall faded in the background, the moment between you two feeling more significant than any celebration.

"You wanna head back to the party?" you asked, breaking the silence, though neither of you moved immediately

She shook her head, her hand brushed against yours. She paused, her fingers lingering against your wrist, a soft smile on her lips.

"I think," she started, her voice low and steady, "I’d rather be alone with you right now."

Your heart skipped a beat, her words making everything feel just a little more intimate. The noise from the party down the hall seemed to fade away, the energy shifting in an instant.

"You sure?" you asked, your voice a little quieter now, as the anticipation between you two hung thick in the air.

Abby nodded, her eyes meeting yours, full of something unspoken. "Yeah. I’d rather spend some time with you... just us."

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze before she led you away from the noise, down the hallway, and toward her dorm room. The walk felt longer than it was, but it gave you time to let the anticipation build. Abby’s steps were confident, but there was a softness in the way she held your hand, something that made your chest flutter.

When you reached her dorm, Abby opened the door, stepping aside to let you in. The room was cozy, nothing extravagant, you took in the familiar feeling. It felt like a place where she could truly be herself. The familiar blue jersey she wore still clung to her frame, a symbol of her strength on the ice. But now, in the quiet of the room, she seemed different—less guarded, more present.

She tossed herself on her bed and pulled you in with her, planting kisses on you.

The sudden pull caught you off guard, and you laughed softly as you fell beside her. Abby's arms wrapped around you, her strength both reassuring and gentle. Her kisses were warm, pressing against your skin with an intensity that made everything else fade away. The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of the sheets and the sound of your breathing.

Abby paused, her forehead resting against yours as she caught her breath, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You met her gaze, a smile curving your lips as you traced the line of her jaw with your fingers, feeling the tension melt away under your touch.

“You okay?” she whispered, her voice husky and low, a tender contrast to the fierce athlete everyone else knew.

You nodded, your fingers threading through her hair. “More than okay,” you murmured, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss deepened, slow and steady, as if both of you were savoring the rare moment of peace away from the chaos of the rink and the noise of the world outside.

Abby shifted, pulling you even closer, her embrace tightening around you as if she wanted to make sure this moment stayed real. The scent of her, the warmth radiating from her body, made your heart race.

You sit up and move on top of her, her gaze softening as you did. “I think… you deserve a reward for your excellent performance at the game. don’t you think?”

Abby’s eyes widened slightly at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She let out a breathy laugh, her hands finding their place on your hips as she looked up at you, a mix of amusement and anticipation in her gaze.

“Oh?” she said, raising an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Is that so?”

You leaned down, your lips barely brushing hers as you whispered, “Absolutely.” The playful tone sent a shiver through her, and you felt her fingers tighten their hold, drawing you closer.

Abby’s gaze softened, the fierce determination she carried on the ice replaced by an openness that was reserved for moments like this—moments just between the two of you. The space between you seemed to shrink as she tilted her head to meet your lips again, her kiss more insistent, filled with a new kind of energy that made your pulse quicken.

She sighed against your mouth, the sound sending warmth rushing through you. Her hands traveled up your back, pulling you down until there was barely any distance left. The room, once filled with quiet, seemed to pulse with the shared heartbeat between you.

“Best reward ever,” Abby whispered, a grin breaking through before she kissed you again, deeper this time as if she couldn’t get enough.

Pulling away from the kiss, you start to unbutton your shirt, watching her gaze on you.

She bit her lip, her eyes never leaving yours as you began to unbutton your shirt. She felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach, her heart pounding in her chest. She reached up, helping you remove the shirt, her fingers brushing against your skin. "You're so…”

"...beautiful," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge of your collarbone, feeling the warmth of your skin. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the spot she had just touched, before moving on to kiss the sensitive skin just below your jaw.

She trailed her kisses down your neck, her lips lingering on your pulse point. She could feel your heartbeat fluttering beneath her mouth, quickening with each touch. "I want you," she murmured against your skin, her hands sliding down to rest on your hips.

She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she pulled back slightly. "You're right, I got a little carried away," she said with a playful grin. She settled back, watching you with hooded eyes, her hands resting on your thighs.“Ah! Not so fast Abigail. I’m the one who’s giving you this reward remember?”

You help her remove her jersey, and then the shirt she was wearing underneath. You trail down to her pants. As you began to unzip her pants, she lifted her hips, allowing you to slide them down along with her underwear. She lay before you, her body bare and exposed, her chest heaving with anticipation. Her eyes, filled with desire, followed your every movement as you leaned down.

She let out a soft gasp as you kissed her stomach, your lips trailing down to her hips. She wrapped her arms around your head, holding you close as you continued your path of kisses. When you reached her inner thigh, she spread her legs wider, giving you access to her most intimate area.

She moaned softly as you kissed her, the sensation overwhelming. Her hips buckled against your touch, her breathing growing heavier with each passing moment. She tangled her hands in your hair, pulling you closer as the pleasure intensified. "Please...please..." she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

She arched her back, her breath hitching as you continued to tease her with your mouth. Her legs tightened around your shoulders, her whole body tensing as the pressure built inside her. "Don't stop...please, don't stop..." she pleaded, her voice hoarse with desire.

Her eyes flew open, her mouth forming a silent 'O’ as you pushed two fingers inside her. She writhed beneath your touch, her hips bucking against your hand. "Yes...like that...please..." she moaned, her voice growing louder as the pleasure became almost too much to bear.

“Hm? You like it baby?” You hissed.

“Oh god, yes...” She panted, her body tensing as your fingers curved upwards, finding that sweet spot deep inside her. Her head fell back against the bed, her body trembling. "More...I need more..." She looked at you, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire.”

You smiled, pleased with her reaction, and added a third finger, scissoring them inside her. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as the stretch and pressure became overwhelming. "Fuck...fuck fuck fuck!" She chanted, her voice echoing through the room as she struggled to breathe.

She could feel the heat building inside her, her body growing warmer and more sensitive with each passing second. Her hands grasped at the sheets beneath her, pulling them taut as the tension became unbearable. "I'm...I'm going to...please, please!" She begged, her eyes wide and desperate.

With a final thrust, you pushed your fingers deep inside her, crooking them upwards. She shattered, her body convulsing as waves of intense pleasure washed over her. She screamed your name, her voice hoarse from shouting, her body growing limp as the aftershocks subsided.

As she came down from her high, she pushed feebly at your shoulder, her body still shuddering occasionally. “My turn,” she whispered, her voice still ragged from her release. She pushed you onto your back, straddling you before you could protest.

You landed on your back with a surprised grunt, looking up at her with widened eyes. She grinned mischievously, her eyes filled with lust and determination. She slowly began to kiss her way down your chest, her hands caressing your skin.

She continued her descent, her lips leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. Without warning, she reached out and tore open your already unbuttoned shirt, the fabric ripping easily under her strength. She tossed the shirt aside and moved on to your pants, roughly pulling them down your legs along with your panties

Once she had you fully exposed, she took a moment to admire the view, her eyes hungrily roaming over your body. She licked her lips before leaning down, her hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "I'm going to make you feel so good,”

She whispered, her voice low and sultry. Before you could respond, she wrapped her hands around your thighs, pushing them apart. She leaned down and slowly, torturously, ran her tongue up your length.

She took her time exploring you with her tongue, licking and sucking at your most sensitive areas. Her hands massaged your thighs, occasionally dipping lower to tease your entrance. She worked you with skill and enthusiasm, determined to drive you wild with pleasure.

Abby sucked on your clit making you toss your head back and grip her hair. You could feel her smile. She stops for a second and slides in her fingers inside you

She curled her fingers inside you, rubbing against your g-spot as she continued to suck on your clit. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against her face desperately. She added another finger, scissoring them inside you as she finger-fucked you relentlessly.

She could feel you tightening around her fingers, knowing you were close. She doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit as she pumped her fingers faster. Her other hand reached up to roughly grope your breast, pinching and tugging at your nipple. She wanted to feel you come undone.

The combination of sensations became too much and you came with a loud moan, your body shaking and convulsing. Abby continued to stroke you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers and licked them clean, savoring your taste. "Mmm, you taste divine," she purred.

She crawled back up your body, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She leaned down to claim your lips in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on her. She ground her hips against yours, her own desire evident in the way she rocked against you. She was far from finished with you…

She kisses your neck, trailing down until she reaches your breasts, sucking on your nipples.

She lavished attention on your breasts, suckling and kneading the soft mounds. She bit down gently on one peak, causing you to gasp. She grinned mischievously and continued her torture, moving between the two and back again.

“Mhmm.. Abby… Shit”

She heard your muffled words, your voice hoarse with desire. She knew you were helpless under her touch. She bit down harder on your peak, relishing your cry of pleasure-pain. She moved her hand down to toy with your slick folds, mirroring the action of her mouth with her fingers.

You bit your lip, staring at her. as if begging her to give it to you. You wanted her fingers inside your walls once again.

Abby looked up at you through her lashes, a smirk playing on her lips. She slowly slid one finger, then two inside you, loving how you bit your lip and watched her with eager eyes. "You like that, baby?”

“Fuck yes…”

Abby pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them upward to hit that spot deep inside. Her thumb rubbed circles on your swollen nub. "Look at me while I touch you," she demanded. Your eyes locked onto hers as your hips lifted to meet her touch, silently begging for more.

She added another finger, stretching you. She watched your face as she increased her pace, her fingers slamming in and out of you. Your breaths came in short pants, your moans filling the room. She leaned down to capture one of your moans with her mouth, kissing you deeply.

Your legs shook as she worked you expertly. She could feel you tightening around her fingers. "That's it, baby. Come for me," she encouraged, her voice low. You shattered, convulsing around her fingers as you found your release.

As your climax washed over you, Abby gentled her touch, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers.

She gathered you in her arms, holding you close as your breathing gradually slowed.

She stroked your back soothingly, placing soft kisses on your shoulder. "You’re gorgeous," she murmured. She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved a warm, damp cloth, cleaning you up tenderly.

She tossed the cloth aside and pulled you back into her arms. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly. She nuzzled your neck, her voice laced with concern. You snuggled against her, your voice sleepy. "Content," you murmured. "So taken care of…”

She smiled, her heart warming at your words. She tightened her arms around you, her voice gentle. "Good. You deserve to be taken care of." She kissed your shoulder, her touch becoming slower, more loving. "Rest now, baby. I've got you.”

Abby’s gaze softened as she watched you sleep, the subtle rise and fall of your chest lulling her into a sense of calm she rarely found anywhere else. The room was quiet, the only sounds being your soft breaths and the distant hum of the city outside.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle in—a mix of contentment and the unfamiliar ache of something deeper. Brushing her thumb across your cheek, she whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me,” her voice so low it was almost swallowed by the quiet.

As exhaustion finally pulled her eyes closed, Abby held you tighter, as if anchoring herself to this moment. The worries of games and expectations could wait; for now, all that mattered was the warmth shared between you and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

874 notes · View notes

bbydoll18xx · 2 months ago

Text

I’ve Got a Wand and a Rabbit (Part 4)

You show Paige the benefits of being with a dominant woman.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Masterlist

Part 1 - Paige stumbles into a sex shop you work at, and you give her some satisfactory customer service.

Part 2 - You give Paige some guidance when it comes to self-pleasure.

Part 3 - Paige takes advantage of your employee discount.

Bonus Part - Paige wants to try scissoring, but she’s too shy to tell you.

Word Count: 2.8k

Themes: sub!Paige, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of mommy kink, some edging, strap usage

A/N: Hiii! The overall love and support for this mini series has given me warm fuzzy feelings. And because I love you guys so much, I have decided to write another part.

Please enjoy!

Paige had always prided herself on being considerably open when it came to trying new things, especially in the bedroom. Confidence poured out of her, igniting her aura in a flame of natural dominance that was felt by guys and girls alike.

It was just how she was. It came with the job, and Paige had stepped into her role instinctively.

So, one could imagine the surprise that graced Paige’s features as she rose from her slumber one morning, entranced and aroused from the dream that was still dancing on the edge of her brain.

Sunlight streams in through the curtains, and through squinted, sleep-filled eyes, Paige looks over to you, still passed out on the pile of pillows next to her. You were the picture of innocence; your lips parted just slightly and face relaxed and peaceful.

Paige’s chest rises and falls as she stares at you, your image triggering the flashes of her dream replaying in her head. She bites her lip to hold in a moan as she thinks about you pounding into her, your nimble fingers dancing around her throat in an uncharacteristic display of dominance that had her belly swarming with butterflies.

“Fuck,” she mumbles, running a hand across her face.

While you had taken the first leap in your friendship that had later developed into a relationship, Paige had taken the role of the top in the bedroom. But it had seemed that her unassuming musings of being topped by you had snuck into her dreams, proving that maybe it was more than just a casual fantasy.

She wasn’t even sure if you would want to do that with her, and as her mind drifts again, her cheeks redden as she realizes that her fantasies were certainly not vanilla.

Nope, she wanted to get railed. And as she glances back over at your sleeping figure, she decides she would simply have to find the courage to confess to you.

Paige had also always prided herself on being brave. But she was having a very difficult time coming up with the exact words to express to you.

Paige paces her room for the hundredth time, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. “God, just say, ‘I want you to fuck the shit out of me,’” she whispers, shaking her head at her own timidity.

She flexes in the mirror. “You’re Paige Bueckers. You can do this,” she says, louder this time.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jana asks, appearing in the doorway with an amused expression on her face.

“Nothing!” Paige says defensively, wiping her sweaty hands on her sweatpants and avoiding eye-contact with the taller girl.

Jana stares Paige down, obviously suspicious of her odd behavior. “C’mon, just tell me,” she goads, sitting down on Paige's bed and patting the empty spot next to her.

Paige glares at Jana for a moment. ‘This whole team is so damn nosy,’ she thinks, but she sits down begrudgingly with a loud sigh.

“I wanna be topped, and I don’t know how to bring it up,” Paige mutters, staring at her hands, feeling especially awkward as Jana digests her words.

“Oh!” The younger girl coughs, surprised by Paige’s sudden candor. “Well, just be honest. She’ll probably love it,” Jana adds unhelpfully.

Paige rolls her eyes, chuckling at the absurdity of the conversation.

“God, I hope so,” she sighs, falling backwards onto her bed and looking up at the beige ceiling.

“Okay, well good luck,” Jana snorts, patting her teammate on the leg before walking out, shaking her head and already thinking about how KK would react to the news.

Paige would never live it down.

“People are so fuckin’ stupid,” you seeth, fists clenched at your sides as you recount your shift to your loving girlfriend who was currently staring at you with an odd expression on her face.

But you were too pissed off to pause and think why, and you continue on ranting. “I just don’t understand why they think they can talk to me like that. I wanted to fuck him up,” you growl, hands flying in the air as all restraint leaves your body.

“Paige, are you even listening?” You snap, and she nods quickly, taking your hands in hers, guiding you over to the couch and pulling you into her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her gaze falling down to rest on your lips. You notice immediately.

“What?” You ask, rubbing your fingers across your mouth as you see where her attention pulls to. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Nah. Just look hot when you get worked up,” she smirks, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You hum, pleased at the affection. “Well, you’re in luck because I’m surrounded by idiots at work,” you huff.

Paige chuckles, and you could nearly hear the gears turning in her head. You look at her questioningly, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

“Just spit it out, P.”

“You’re really sexy when you’re mad, and I want you to top me and be kinda aggressive with me,” she says hastily, words spilling from her mouth so fast you almost miss them.

Her honesty stuns you.

“Really?” You ask, your brain already imploding with images of your girlfriend’s naked body spread out for your own pleasure.

“I had a dream about it,” she explains shyly, and your heart melts at her newfound reticence.

“You know I can’t ever say no to you,” you murmur, pulling her in for a heated kiss.

That was just the damn truth.

“Undress and get your ass on the bed,” you instruct, your voice calm and unwavering. Paige had been acting like a brat all night, and frankly, you were tired of it.

Another part of you was glad that you would have a good excuse to dominate Paige, and something told you that her behavior was not accidental.

You watch as she strips. Her hands tremble as she folds her shirt, buying herself a few more seconds before the bounds of your relationship change forevermore.

She goes to lay on the bed, but you stop her, running your hands down her sides to rest on her waist. You finger the waistband of her boxers. “All of your clothes, my love,” you whisper.

Even in the soft glow of the bedroom, you could see the tinge of pink illuminate her pale flesh, and she pulls them off without arguing.

It was progress.

“Good girl.” Two simple words that could turn yourself into a whimpering mess. You were not the only one, it seems, as Paige lets out a strangled moan. She tries to play it off as a cough, clearly embarrassed.

“Gonna make you feel so good, and you’re going to let me,” you purr in her ear before leaning down and attaching your soft lips to the delicate skin of her neck. You work marks onto her flesh, trailing them up and down as you listen to her breathy moans.

They grow louder as you reach her tits. Paige thrusts her chest out, wanting your mouth on her as much as possible. You palm her right breast as your mouth attaches to the left, your tongue swirling around her peaked, pink nipple as if it was candy.

“S’good,” she breathes, squirming under you in a way that has the more dominant parts of yourself purring with content and satisfaction.

Your kisses trail down her stomach, and you take a second to admire the toned abs flexing under your lips. She really was perfect.

You had to control your sappy thoughts tonight.

“More,” she whimpers, unable to keep still, and the idea that it was you doing this to her was almost too much.

“You like that, baby?”

It was a simple question, but the tone of your voice and the subtle, mocking lilt spreads a warmth throughout her body and tunnels right to her already soaked core.

Paige just groans, but it wasn’t enough for you.

You grip her chin, making her look right into your eyes. Her pupils are blown wide from arousal, and she releases her lip from her teeth. Her bottom lip was plump from biting it, leaving it in a deep pout.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, mommy. I like it,” she mumbles, and your heart rate jumps at the name. That was definitely something new. But you were going to run with it.

“Such a good girl f’me,” you simper, running your hand down her abdomen to rest at the top of her dripping pussy. Your fingers dance across her skin, the heat from your body warming her from the outside in and the natural arousal creating an inner fire.

Your middle finger finds her clit and she gasps as you begin to rub slow circles, your lips reattaching to hers. Your tongues glide together as you take the lead, stepping naturally into your new role.

Paige grinds against your hand, clearly desperate for more friction, and because you were feeling nice, you oblige.

With one final kiss and light bite to her plush, bottom lip, you settle yourself down between your girlfriend’s parted legs. The glow from the bedside lamp illuminates her slick pussy, putting a spotlight to the pleasure you were giving her.

“Keep your eyes open, baby,” you instruct before you dive in, immediately sucking her clit into your mouth.

Paige’s hips fly off the bed in shock of the sudden change in pressure, and you hold them down with strong forearms, anchoring her to the bed.

Your tongue flicks across her clit before snaking down to lap up the sweet wetness that had pooled at her entrance, already trickling down to her inner thighs. You press kisses there, feeling the muscles ripple under your mouth.

Seeing your girlfriend laid out so innocently under you was intoxicating, and you didn’t want to lose the buzz Paige was giving you.

Your fingers tease her entrance before you slide them in without warning. Paige cries out, eyes squeezing shut as you set a punishing pace.

“Look at me, darling. Watch me fuck your pretty, little pussy,” you command gently.

Her eyes flutter open, wide and bashful. Her bottom lip trembles as you lean back down to suck and bite at her sensitive clit again.

“Doin’ so good for me,” you whisper against her flesh, reveling in both her taste and the way you are getting off on the power play.

Her moans grow louder and louder as you continue to finger fuck her, your name and the occasional, breathless “Mommy” thrown around, encouraging you to keep going without pause.

She clenches around your fingers, and you knew she was getting close. You bring her right to the edge, watching as her head tips back in overwhelming pleasure before stilling your movements and pulling out of her.

Her head flies back up to look at you, eyes wide with shock and disappointment.

“Why’d you stop?” She whines, and you grin.

“Oh, baby. We’re just getting started.”

You suck the juices off your fingers, making a show of it in front of Paige, who still looks thoroughly pissed.

“Fix your face. I promise, you’ll cum soon.”

She still pouts, and you roll your eyes, ready to make a mess of her.

You reach into the draw of the bedside table, pulling out the strap that Paige was so fond of. Her eyes widen with surprise, and you smirk at her reaction.

You tighten the band around your hips, stroking the rubber experimentally as Paige watches you. Her tongue peeks out to swipe a slow stripe across her lip, enjoying the erotic show in front of her.

“Fuck,” she whispers under her breath, reaching up to touch your now exposed tits, nipples peaked from your excitement.

Her hand glides down over smooth, supple skin to lightly grasp the fake dick now nestled between your legs as if it was actually an extension of you.

In a way it was.

“Come taste mommy,” you say, trying to keep your voice level and strong.

Paige nods quickly, taking you in her mouth while staring up at you through her lashes. She makes a show of it, alternating between kitten licks across the head and long, wet stripes up and down the length of it.

“Such a good girl,” you praise, gathering her long hair into a ponytail and leading her.

Once the strap is thoroughly covered in Paige’s saliva, you pull her off of it, guiding her into place on the pile of pillows.

“Wanna look at you while I’m fucking you.”

You position yourself in between her open legs, stroking the soft skin of her inner thigh before sliding inside of her in one, fluid movement.

Paige groans as you fill her up, the pressure foreign and consuming. You swirl messy circles against her clit to distract her, praising her and pressing kisses to her face.

She adjusts quickly, her slick pussy opening for you, beckoning to have you even closer.

The buzzing of the vibrator attached to the strap pulses through your core, and you grind into her, chasing your own pleasure.

You glance to the right of you, the large mirror showing your body fucking into Paige’s, and it stirs up something primal inside of you.

Paige had said she wanted you to be aggressive. Aggressive is what she was going to get.

Your touch lingers over her hips, fingers gripping into the curves of her body, and without warning, you flip her onto her stomach.

She looks back at you, surprised but with a faint smirk of satisfaction on her lips.

She wanted this.

You position her so her ass is high in the air. She wiggles it, almost to say ‘come and ruin me.’

You slap her ass, the sound ringing through the room, and she gasps, the sting lighting every nerve ending in her body on fire.

Your grip on her hips is almost mean, proving your control over her. You trace her spine, and she shudders, pressing her face into the pillow to quiet her whines.

With yet another swift movement, you re enter her, and Paige does not hesitate to let out a loud, pathetic cry of pleasure.

You pound into her, alternating between long, steady strokes and grinding the strap against her g-spot.

“Oh my—GOD,” she cries, her voice thick with tears as you continue your assault on her pussy. “Don’t stop. Please mommy, please don’t stop.”

Her begging ignites something in you, proving that this was probably the best idea she’s ever had. You lay yourself against her, your tits pressing into her muscular back, and you grab her by the throat, squeezing gently.

She lets out another long moan, pressing herself back into you, desperate to get as much contact as possible.

The whole scene is erotic, and as the sounds of the moaning mixed with the slapping of skin together, you both quickly begin to reach your peaks.

“You gonna to be a good girl and cum for me?” You ask, wanting so badly for her to cum on your cock.

She nods, looking back at you with teary eyes, her lips swollen. She looked completely fucked out.

You wanted to take a picture.

“Gonna cum for you,” she whimpers, fucking back onto the strap, hips moving in perfect rhythm with yours.

“Fuck,” you cry out, unable to hold out any longer. “Let go, baby.”

You both cum with shouts of pleasure and each other's names on your lips, the sounds aiding in the wanton feel of it all.

You begin to pull out of her, exhaustion settling deep into your bones and mixing with the tingling aftershocks of your orgasm, when you suddenly feel a wetness on your thighs.

Paige, who is still trying to catch her breath, notices you rubbing at the wet material of the bedsheets.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

You stifle a laugh. “P, I think you squirted,” you giggle, feeling immensely pleased with yourself.

“Fuck,” she says, a blush covering her face. “I’ve never done that shit before.”

Smirking, you pull her in for a kiss. “What can I say, mommy is the best,” you tease.

“Shut up,” she whines, clearly embarrassed.

But there was really no denying it. The two of you would definitely be trying some different things in the bedroom from now on.

It was inevitable.

Dayummmm well what did we think??

Thanks so much for reading.

She's Such a Good Girl Part 6 will most likely the the next fic.

xoxo katy

Taglist:

@oldcrdigan, @paigebuxkets, @the-other-half, @patscorner, @sophswbb, @dietcokesmom, @tndaqlifwy, @ch12334, @double22, @inthedeathofherreptuation, @authentic-girl03, @blueredg52 , @kmoneymartini , @mrsarnold, @ittiwdwysylm @sillylittlefakeacc @hobbybound @makethemhoesmad

Want to be added to my taglist? Comment or send me a message :)

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #wlw #ive got a wand and a rabbit

482 notes · View notes