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kurooh · 3 months ago

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★ 02. MORNING ROUTINE !

☆ after filming your first scene and talking it over with your agent, you’re off to your second . . in a maid costume!? once filming is over, you’re roped into an interesting conversation regarding a few other stars.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, everyone is over 21, oral (f receiving), cum eating, maids, awkwardness, creampie, unprotected sex. | 4.9K words

xoxo, juno. SHES BACKKKKK! comment & rb if you enjoyed! thank u to wolfy anon for proofreading ily ♡

SHOWTIME MLIST.

“hey, good morning,” shinsou rushes up to you at the doors, lightly grabbing onto your shoulder before you can walk into the studio. “how’d yesterday’s shoot go for you?”

“good morning!” you reply happily, lighting up as you turn to face your agent. “let’s get some coffee from the place across the street, and i can tell you while we walk?”

“sounds good,” he exhales, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. “it’s definitely getting colder, god. i could seriously use some coffee.”

“ah, it is. anyway, filming wasn’t too bad. i had director iida, i believe? yeah, he was pretty alright.” you and shinsou walk side by side, stopping to hit the button and waiting for the lights to change.

shinsou gives a small smile, crossing the street with you. “how’d it go with your co-star? i figured he’d be a good introduction for you.”

“shōto was nice,” you say, warmth rising to your cheeks. the memory of being pressed against him and fucking is a little blurry, but just thinking about it has your pussy clenching around nothing. the faint feeling of his touch ghosts across your skin, and you clear your throat awkwardly. “um . . i think we ended up doing well together.”

shinsou’s not surprised. after all, he pulled the strings behind the scenes to get you with him.

“that’s good! i’ve been meaning to ask you about what you’re interested to do today,” shinsou holds the door of the coffee shop open for you and follows you inside. “i’ll get you up to speed after we order, alright? and don’t worry, i’ll just cover your drink.”

“oh,” you’re in the middle of unzipping your purse, “you really don’t have to, shinsou! i’ve got it.”

“i insist, it’s my treat.” he leaves no room for you to fight him any further, and you place the order together once it’s your turn.

“what were you saying about filming today?” you draw his attention back to the aforementioned topic as you sit down at a table together to wait for your drinks.

“oh, that’s right. you’ve been booked by a lot of different people, so you’ve gotta choose who you want to film with today. personally, i think you’ve got some decent options.”

“is that so?” you exhale, wondering if anyone else could possibly top your experience with shōto. but of course, you’re employed at a pornography studio, where dreams become reality and anything is possible.

shinsou’s voice drops to a low whisper, his words meant for your ears only. “well, there’s this . . maid thing, or some kind of bdsm shoot.”

“those are not good options,” you groan, closing your eyes briefly in disgust. “who’re the people booking? anyone important?”

“obviously, the maid film is from denki kaminari. the bdsm is—”

you’ve seen denki kaminari’s videos before. he seems to be energetic and also a little pervy, but he’s good looking and you’re not in the mood to be tied up in ropes or chains.

“i’ll go with the maid film. is he offering a lot?”

“kaminari’s a bit . . eccentric,” shinsou offers, waving his hand dismissively. “he doesn’t usually book with a set amount in mind like everyone else does. he prefers to shoot the film and then pay based off of what it makes.”

so, there are a few financial risks when it comes to choosing denki kaminari, but you sigh and bite the bullet. “that’s not ideal, but i’ll take it. when’s it scheduled?”

shinsou looks over at a mounted clock behind you, “if you’re going for this, you’re supposed to be over there in an hour.”

the barista calls out shinsou’s name, and you pick up the coffees while he sends a confirmation email to kaminari’s agent.

your arrival to shinsou’s office is met with an assistant of some kind dropping off a garment bag. through the fabric, you can see big frills and bows that most definitely will be itchy when you’re going around in it.

shinsou takes the bag with a sigh, and the assistant presses a yellow sticky note to the side of it before scurrying off quickly. you pick up the yellow paper and read the messy writing scrawled onto it.

hey! please change into this before arriving to set, director’s orders. we hope the dress is comfortable, even though it doesn’t look like it.

“i assume this is from kaminari?” you say flatly, tugging the sticky note off the bag.

“of course it is,” shinsou replies, holding the door open for you, “you can change in here before you head over. by the way, you’re heading to the fourth floor and turning to the left.”

“thanks, shinsou.”

unzipping the garment bag yields a frilly black and white dress decked out with bows and all kinds of lace. tucked in neatly beside the dress is a folded set of thigh high socks and a prop duster that looks as though it’s never been used. you pull off your clothes and change into the provided ones with little excitement. at the very least, you’ll get paid well and then end up filming something better, hopefully again with shōto.

shinsou nearly drops his phone when you step out of his office in that ridiculous dress—it looks so good on you, accentuating your chest and complimenting your figure beautifully. you fiddle with the bow necktie, fingers tangling in the black fabric. his mouth goes dry when you look up at him shyly, gesturing toward the necktie as best you can.

“could you help me tie this, shinsou?”

“of course,” he nods politely, snapping out of his daze. his nimble fingers undo the knots you’ve created and he ties it easily for you, pulling it into a snug bow. “you look great, by the way.” immediately after the words leave his mouth, he regrets having added that bit, but you smile at him and give him a spin, letting your skirt fan out.

“thanks. wish me luck?”

“good luck,” shinsou laughs dryly, turning away quickly before you can notice the redness blooming on his cheeks. “remember, fourth floor and to the left. there’ll be a sign or something on the door.”

you wave, thanking him again, and you both go your separate ways. the elevator comes quickly, and you go upwards silently, until the elevator stops a floor too early.

“there’s my pretty co-star!” an energetic voice exclaims, and the owner of it steps onto the elevator, practically buzzing with excitement. “come on, we can head up together!”

you recognize him easily; denki kaminari’s signature blond hair has a streak of black through it, and he’s got a winning smile playing on his lips, showcasing his nice teeth.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, offering a hand in his direction. his energy isn’t off putting, just a little . . much for the first film of the day. kaminari instead wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a warm hug as though you’re a long lost friend of his.

the elevator’s chugging upwards slowly, and kaminari’s still wrapped around you. well, okay. this is slightly weird; you’re going to be all over each other in less than twenty minutes and he’s already this friendly? something about him already has you on edge, necktie suddenly feeling like a noose.

you cough, pulling away and practically skittering into the corner of the elevator. he looks at you weirdly, confusion written all over his face, but you straighten and smooth out the ruffles on your dress.

“i’m sorry, it’s—we just met,” you utter, at a loss for words. maybe this is just how he is, but now you’re starting to worry if you’ve jeopardized your dynamic on set with him.

kaminari’s features soften with embarrassment, cheeks growing pink. then he very obviously panics internally, voice frantic and high as he tries to explain himself.

“oh my god! you’re right, i’m so sorry!” he stumbles over his words, and you wonder if the elevator is stuck with how long it’s taking. “i’m sorry, i really . . i’ve wanted to meet you for the longest time, and now you must think i’m a dumbass—ah, sorry!”

at last, the elevator finally comes to a halt. its doors open and you dash out, kaminari following with his head hanging. before you can open the door, he stops you with a sigh.

“wait, i—i want to redo our first meeting.”

you turn, gracing him with your attention and patience. “and how exactly do you plan to redo it?”

“with a proper introduction and handshake. no hugs, i promise.” he seems genuine, and your shoulders start to relax. kaminari extends his hand, a truce, and envelops yours once you reach out too.

“well, you already know me. just call me denki, though, okay? no kaminari or anything.”

“understood, denki.”

the door is thrown open and director yaoyorozu pops her head out, looking left and right.

“there you two are! goodness, i was about to send out a search party.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, shaking her hand and stepping inside behind her. “in the email, you didn’t have any kind of script . . is this some kind of freestyle thing?”

“i am so glad you asked,” she sighs, pulling the sharpened pencil from behind her ear. “i’ve got a simple idea to go off of, but the rest of it is up to you.”

“up to us?” denki chokes out, sounding shocked.

“um, yes?” the director sniffs, confused. “remember, you came to me with all of this.”

“director yaomomo, i thought you’d come up with a script!” he whines lamely, and she only rolls her eyes.

“kaminari, please. next time you’re booking a set, director, and supplies last minute, make sure you’ve got something for them to work with besides a generic concept.”

“director, the pancakes are finished and the set is ready.” a member of the film crew flashes her a double thumbs up and a smile.

“great, thanks so much,” yaoyorozu gushes before turning back toward you and denki. “so, the theme here is maids, of course. in this film, she’ll be waiting on you and waking you up with breakfast while you’re fake sleeping. obviously, you’re aware of what takes place next.”

“so, minimal dialogue?” you ask, folding your arms as you listen closely.

“the scene may have as much dialogue as you want it to. i’ll let you two head off and prep before we get started, okay?”

director yaoyorozu’s dark ponytail swings behind her as she saunters off toward the set to make a few more adjustments. denki waves at you, then heads off toward the changing area while you sigh.

—

“is everyone entirely ready and in position?”

a few stage crew members adjust the lighting and some microphones before giving yaoyorozu confirmation through raised thumbs. she nods toward you, just as someone places a hefty tray into your hands. the silver platter carries a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes, drizzled in syrup, and a tall glass of orange juice beside it. matching silverware sits neatly beside the plate, atop a folded napkin.

yaoyorozu crosses her legs in her director’s chair, while you try not to shake with the heavy breakfast platter in your hands. orange juice lurches from side to side in the glass, threatening to spill over if you don’t remain steady.

“action!”

you smile when you step through the doorway, sweat beading along your forehead as you try to mask the nervousness. denki’s shirtless and on his stomach in the bed, a mess of sheets and blankets covering his lower half. trembling, you finally set the breakfast platter down on the bedside table, taking a seat on the bed.

denki’s getting hard just from feeling the shift of your weight on the mattress. the director might have to end filming early with the way his breath hitches at the touch of your palm to his back. slowly, you rub his skin in small circles, encouraging him to wake up. is it possible to be aroused from an almost entirely innocent gesture coming from someone you don’t know?

he stirs with a groan, turning over with a yawn. denki looks up at you through hooded eyes, his lower half still tangled in the bedsheets.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you sigh, a lot less nervous now that you’re no longer holding onto that damn tray. “i made you breakfast and cleaned around the house. gently dusted your figure collection too.”

“t-thank you,” denki smiles, sitting up. “uh, what’s for breakfast?”

“blueberry pancakes and OJ,” you say automatically, cutting a piece off the sticky pastries with the fork. “i think you’ll love it.”

there’s something too intimate about the way you feed him the piece of the pancake, your eyes on his as he swallows it.

“well?” you breathe expectantly, lifting his chin and tilting it toward you when he shyly averts his eyes. the simple gesture startles him, sends his heart into quite the flurry, and denki finds himself fighting to get a grip. really, he’s never been this awkward on set in all his years as a pornstar—in fact, a film like this would be the easiest for him . . so why’s it so difficult?

a few sparks fly between you when denki grabs your chin in return, tugging you into a kiss. you gasp, startled, and he licks into your mouth, letting you taste the sweetness of the pancakes for yourself. seriously, whoever made them deserves head; they’re sweet and fruity, but maybe they just taste better on denki’s tongue.

he moans deeply against your lips, and you swallow the low sound with one of your own. beneath all the frills and lacy ruffles, sticky arousal begins to pool in your panties, soaking through the fabric far too easily. meanwhile, denki’s trepidation melts away fully; he grows more absorbed in the kiss, until he regretfully pulls away for breath.

you look at him through your lashes, nodding blissfully when he looks toward your skirt. denki slowly slips a hand beneath all the fabric and groans loudly, his fingers swiping at your damp panties before moving past the fabric to stroke your slick folds.

before you can move into another kiss, the director lets out a peeved sigh and shakes her head, “cut!”

denki pushes a finger inside of you, savoring the gasp you let out like a piece of specialty candy. “listen to yaomomo for both of us, ‘kay?”

“b-but they’re not rolling,” you protest in a whisper shout, although your hips jerk toward him when he sinks in all the way to his knuckle.

“no rules against it, baby.” the once anxious denki you met thirty minutes ago is gone, replaced with the confident pornstar you’ve come to know through years of watching UA’s videos.

yaoyorozu claps her hands together, facing you and denki but not noticing anything going on beneath the umbrella-like cover of your skirt.

“you’re both doing well so far, but when i said the amount of dialogue was up to you, i didn’t mean no talking at all.”

“do we have to reshoot what we’ve done so far?” you gasp out when denki curls his finger right against your g-spot, sending shockwaves of heat throughout your entire body.

nobody seems to notice the inflection in your voice, and the director offers a small smile.

“no, it’s alright, we’ll just edit everything together before it goes out. you’re both doing great, by the way!” her praise is reassuring, and she hops up onto her chair again, then gestures for the crew members to position the cameras.

“action.”

denki’s lips find yours in a bruising kiss, tongue swiping against your lower lip impatiently. he’s quick to pull you on top of him too, wet fingers tugging up your skirt to give the camera a full view of your soaked panties and ass.

“what about the pancakes?” you ask, remembering the director’s tip about the dialogue. if she were to call cut again, the interruption would surely drive you insane.

“what pancakes?”

“the ones i made for you,” you breathe against his lips, eyes flicking to the bedside table. “over there, with the—”

he takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his face into your neck, taking in the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. low and quiet, he whispers into your ear, “fuck, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this—for you.”

you whine as he kicks the bedsheets off his body, firmly placing you atop his hard cock. through your panties and his boxers, you can feel the ridges of his tip and the heat of his body.

“how do you want it?” denki purrs, hands settled on your hips. “from the back . . bent over?”

the options he gives you only ignite the arousal burning in your core further; you move off of him, settling on all fours. the wild look you toss him from over your shoulder makes him groan, and he yanks his underwear and pajama pants off as quickly as he can, hurling them into a corner of the set.

“fuckin’ soaked, baby,” he coos, flipping up your skirt and slipping a few fingers beneath the crotch of your panties. your cunt flutters around nothing as he pulls the underwear off, with enough force for the microphones to pick up the ripping sound that follows. “is this all for me?”

he flings the torn garment off the bed carelessly, and it silently lands somewhere on the carpet.

“o-only for you.”

denki chuckles, and guides his cock toward your entrance, but doesn’t push it in just yet. instead, he strokes the tip up and down, gathering your wetness to provide extra lubrication. the tease has your toes curling and your eyes rolling back; denki gifts your ass with a slap, letting out a low whistle.

“you’ll get what you want soon enough, baby. i just . . feel like something’s missing.”

you look over your shoulder when the bed creaks, your co star’s weight leaving the mattress. he grabs at the drawer of the bedside table, and the glass of orange juice rattles against the silver platter from the movement. even director yaoyorozu looks a little lost for words, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

the drawer slams shut and denki returns to the bed behind you in a flash, a miniature black and white vibrator between his fingers. yaoyorozu settles back into her chair with a contented expression, signaling for the cameraman to zoom in between your bodies.

the soft, rubbery head of the vibrator nudges against your clit and you gasp. denki slants his body over yours, pushing his cock inside of you shallowly.

“i—i don’t think i can t-take all of it,” you swallow nervously, inhaling sharply when he bucks his hips forward and plunges inside you, bottoming out easily.

“that’s fuckin’ nonsense,” he groans, pushing a hand through his blond hair to get it away from his eyes. then it wraps loosely around your throat before you can protest any further. “‘course my girl can take it.”

my girl?

denki startles even himself. but this is the magic of being a pornstar and filming around the clock. he’s built up a persona for himself that he always seems to slip into no matter how he’s feeling. he’s thankful for this; otherwise, he’d be a bumbling fool who’d accidentally fuck your thighs, too caught up with excitement to get it together.

his teeth sink into his lower lip hard, scraping against the skin rather roughly as the words burst from his lips uncontrollably.

“g-god, you’ve got no idea how damn long i’ve been waiting to fuck this pretty pussy,” the vibrator turns on and presses flush against your clit, already at the highest setting. “ngh, you’re so tight, baby—got me all worked up with the little maid dress, heh. you look beautiful in it, i swear.”

his babbling soon falls on deaf ears, and you unintentionally tune him out, unable to hear him clearly over your ragged moans and cries. denki’s hips set a somewhat even pace, skin smacking into skin while the vibrator seems to only get more intense.

“c’mon, babe, arch a lil more for me,” he huffs, his palm nudging against the middle of your back.

with a whine, you do as he instructs, burying your face in the sheets.

“aw, i still wanna hear you clearly.” denki clicks his tongue, his fingers leaving the sides of your throat and instead tugging on your necktie. he turns it backwards and pulls your head back so you’re not muffled any longer.

“f-fuck, you’re so deep,” you sob, his strokes growing faster and rougher. the bed creaks beneath you, shaking loudly, and despite his panting, denki’s determined to give you the best sex you’ll ever have at UA studios.

“yeah, babe? feel my cock right here in your tummy?” denki’s voice is strained, his free hand wandering to the plush skin above your pelvis. he presses down experimentally, and he swears you get tighter.

it’s only a little pressure, but it sends shockwaves of something intense throughout your body and knocks the breath from your lungs.

“ooh, you’re squeezin’ me real tight,” denki comments breathily, “i want you to cum for me, got that?”

“‘m so close,” you sob, tossing your ass back onto his cock. “wanna—wanna cum on your cock!”

this is it. this is the big moment where he makes you cum twice on camera and shows all his friends who can fuck you the best. his mouth feels dry and he’s unable to say much of anything to spur you on, talk you through it.

the noisy metal bedframe squeaks louder, the mattress sliding side to side from all the movement. denki doesn’t let up, biting down on his lip so hard he draws some blood while he fucks you through the exhaustion and pain in his sides.

at last, highly anticipated euphoria courses through your bodies at the same time, and his cock begins to twitch against your cervix. a whiny moan tears from his lips as he spills deep inside you, trembling hands grabbing at your waist for purchase. the vibrator maintains its high setting, not letting up even once—in the moment, it’s amazing to ride the waves as you cum, but as you’re coming down, you begin to shudder away from it.

“hah—ah, shit,” you cry, voice pitching. denki pulls out of you, eyes widening in delight as he looks over your sloppy cunt, drooling with a mixture of your cum and his own. glossy strings of white leak from your hole, sticking to your thighs every time you jerk away from the vibrator. “i-it’s too much.”

“oh, ‘m sorry babe,” the words roll off his tongue, each syllable oozing with faux sympathy. lucky for you, denki clicks the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere in the sheets. you don’t notice him moving to lay on his stomach, too busy trying to catch your breath. “she’s looking messy down there, hm?”

denki’s breath now fans over your wet pussy, his words low and sultry. you look over your shoulder in confusion, sweat shining on your forehead, bitten lips parting to ask a question, but he interrupts.

“i can clean her up for you.”

with that final statement, denki’s tongue presses flat against your slit and he moans, tasting the evidence of what seems to be his best porno yet. he slurps up the mess eagerly, holding you in place by your hips whenever you try to squirm away.

it’s bittersweet, slick pouring down his chin and making his skin shine while his own cum colors his lips white. you can’t do anything but whimper, looking back at him through hooded eyes that well with tears of overstimulation.

“i know, i know,” he mumbles into you when your body jolts, and you suck in a sharp breath. “i jus’ want to make sure you can’t move after this.”

a thorough pussy pounding and now this? there’s no way you’ll be able to stop shaking.

nimble fingers find your swollen clit and give it a light pinch, then gently stroke over it; he thinks the reaction it elicits from you is absolutely delicious—your expression crumbles and you rock your hips back against his face, dragging your cunt all over him.

he’s drunk on your scent and taste, taking as much of you in as he can. director yaoyorozu looks pleased as she whispers something to a member of the film crew, but you don’t even notice her through the sweltering haze of arousal. denki pushes the skirt further up your body, and the resounding sob that leaves your lips has him smiling against your cunt.

against your slit, his silky tongue paints peculiar patterns that your dizzy brain manages to register as the letters of his name. “fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum, ‘s coming—” your fingers tangle in his blonde hair, yanking him into your cunt as the high hits you, toes curling and teeth chattering together.

denki’s eyes roll back as you cum on his face, but then you’re trembling and moving away when the sensitivity finally sets in. your pussy is puffy and twitching, entirely spent for the day.

“woah,” he catches you with an arm when you drop flat on the bed, shuddering with the aftershocks of it all. “you good, baby?”

his lips press into your temple and you nod, huffing as you try to catch your breath. unconsciously, you start to cuddle into him, arms wrapping shakily around his torso.

it’s hard to remember where you are, stars swirling in your vision, but the sight of the microphone a few meters away snaps you back into professional mode. god, you haven’t been this dazed since your early days at shiketsu, where you’d been booking with some of the biggest men at the studio.

“i-i wish i didn’t have to, but,” you huff quietly, slowly raising from the bed to smooth out your dress and then look for your panties. you make a big show of bending over, giving the camera a great view of your quivering, dripping cunt. you swipe the underwear from the carpet with a relieved sigh, turning to face denki, who’s nibbling at his lower lip, already hard again. “i’m not finished cleaning the house yet. maybe i can make you some lunch later, when i’m done?”

the cheeky suggestion has an unintentional effect, denki’s cheeks darkening perfectly for the scene. he nods slowly, caught in a stupor. you blow a kiss toward him, stepping through the fake doorway and off the set.

after a beat of silence, director yaoyorozu calls for a cut. she hops off her tall chair and claps excitedly, while crew members rush to strip the bed and clean up the set. on jelly-like legs, you wobble over to her, standing beside denki with a small smile.

“excellent, the two of you,” she praises, ponytail swishing as she nods. “i’ll update both of your agents once we get this to the editors. hehe, my intuition tells me this’ll do very well.”

you thank her together, before parting your separate ways toward the dressing areas—at least you try to, but denki trails behind you quietly, cheeks still blazing pink.

“kaminari, is everything alright?” you step behind the shoji screen, the makeshift dressing room. without needing to be asked, his fingers find the zipper at your back and he loosens the maid dress for you.

“denki,” he corrects you with an embarrassed laugh, leaning his body against the shoji in an attempt to come across as relaxed. “i wanted to ask you about—”

the shoji screen topples over the moment his weight rests against it, smashing to the floor with a loud bang! you shriek, gathering the dress up around your chest as your co-star rushes to pick it up before anyone can look over. he is unsuccessful, much to your chagrin.

“oh my fucking—i’m so sorry, shit.”

“what is it you wanted to ask, denki?” you ask, embarrassed. it’s like you’re back to square one again, as if you weren’t just doing the nastiest things together less than ten minutes ago. he throws a hand behind his neck, awkwardly scratching the skin as he tries to calm his nerves.

“okay, look. me and a few friends of mine—UA stars—” he adds in that bit in case you need some extra convincing, “are hosting a little get together. i’m thinking maybe you can come and hang out for a little while? i can pick you up, if you—”

“that’s very nice of you.”

the interruption makes his heart drop straight into his ass, and he immediately looks down at his bare feet. but then you speak up, and he feels a spark of hope in his chest. after all, he did promise his friends that he’d introduce you to them.

“i live nearby, i moved apartments to be closer to the studio,” you admit, fingers loosening on the dress. “what time is it? i’d be willing to meet some other stars, get acquainted with everyone.”

denki looks at you, joy written all over his face. he flashes you a bright smile, nodding as he collects his thoughts. “everything starts at eight. i can just pick you up, ‘kay? here, i’ve gotta give you my number.”

you laugh, pushing him back. “i’ve gotta change first, the dress is really itchy. we’ll work it out when i’m done, sound good?”

he steps out from behind the shoji screen after nodding, gold eyes shining. before he can walk away toward his own makeshift dressing room, you stop him, smiling in a way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“hey, denki? by the way, i’m really looking forward to tonight.”

747 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

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best dress * fem!driver

when pictures circulate on instagram of her on a night out in her best dress, the guys start to get curious who she’s out and about with on a saturday night

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver

warnings: none

notes: i may have gotten carried away with this one… and this might have played out a LOT funnier in my head than it does written down

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> the aftermath

she pushes the door open and steps out of her racing home. she looks left and right cautiously, careful not to catch her colleagues’ attentions. there’s many nights she’d appreciate their companionship but tonight is not that night.

she can only step one down before her worst nightmare comes to life.

“hey, where are you going?” she turns her head, mouth agape as she meets lando’s curious eyes. his eyes scan her body and his head tilts. “and why are you all dressed up?”

she straightens her body and pats her dress down. she flicks her hair behind her shoulder, trying to ignore the awkward tension in the air.

“um,” she trails off, glancing at the group of engineers walking past them without another thought. “i’m going out tonight.”

lando’s smile drops. “oh,” he slouches, “i was here to ask you if you wanted to grab drinks with us at the bar tonight.”

“hey lando, did you f- what are you wearing?” oscar’s jaw drops, nose scrunched up as he points at her in what can only be described as disgust. “where are you even going?”

“out,” she answers with gritted teeth, glancing at the gantries of the paddocks. it’s so close yet so far away. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’ve really got to go.”

“but you never turn down post-quali drinks at the bar,” lando frowns. he presses his palm against his chest and throws his head back. “i can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”

oscar looks her up and down, eyebrow raising as it gets to the heels she’s put on. “why are you wearing heels? seriously, where the hell are you going?”

“exploring the city!”

“exploring the c– we’re here year after year. we know the best spots!” lando defends. “come on! we’re going to have so much fun!”

“you’re exploring the city in heels?”

she narrows her eyes down into a mean glare. of course this is the one time that oscar decides to remember she doesn’t wear high heels for exploration purposes. “yeah.”

“you know you want to come with us.” lando shimmies his shoulders, face hopeful that the driver would change her mind. but she still shakes her head and his smile immediately drops. “fine. be that way.”

“i’m sorry, i already arranged my plans even before we flew to miami,” she laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “if you guys are going out tomorrow, i’m free to join.”

lando intertwines his fingers. “okay. but if you cancel again, i’m crashing into you the next race.”

“okay,” she chuckles, readjusting the strap of her purse. “i’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”

oscar rolls his eyes, but a smile still stretches his lips. “don’t get lost. it’s a big city, (y/n).”

“yeah, penelope’s doing amazing,” max nods, his arm resting on the back of lando’s chair. one of his legs over the other, he takes a swig of his beer. “she just started school recently.”

“oh, i s-“

“hold up!” lando holds his arm out to max’s chest, his scream startling everyone seated around the table. the light from his phone illuminates his face as everyone turns to him with a puzzled stare. “oh, my god!”

“what?” max answers just as enthusiastically, smacking lando’s thigh to get his attention. lando lifts the phone up into his face, squinting as he tries to make out the person in the picture.

“yeah, don’t cut me off,” george scoffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “i was just asking if-“

“(y/n)’s out on a date!” lando yells, smacking max’s chest. he pushes himself off the chair and throws the phone into george’s lap. “dude, i knew it! i knew there was a reason she’s all dressed up!”

“seriously!” george screams towards his fellow brit.

“a date?” oscar scoffs, in absolute disbelief that his best friend could even have the ability to attract a man. “there’s no way.”

max grins sheepishly, handing the phone over to the australian. “i’m afraid so. someone saw her in a restaurant with a guy,” max states, “it’s all over instagram.”

oscar snorts, slowly analysing the grainy picture of the girl in a restaurant with somebody. sure, it’s similar to the dress she wore when they caught her sneaking out of the paddocks, but how sure can they be that it’s her?

“we should go and find her!” max suggests, his face lighting up and cheeks flushed from all the alcohol. he jumps in his seat and smacks george’s thigh lightly. “dude, let’s find her!”

“are you crazy?” george grabs max’s hand and throws it back at his body. “her date’s none of our business!”

though, lando disagrees with his friend. he clasps his hands together with a loud sound. “let’s go, gentlemen. we’re crashing (y/n)’s date.”

but only max stands up, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “i’m ready. i’ve got my brave face on.”

“you look absolutely ridiculous,” george raises an eyebrow, “i don’t believe you used to scare off victoria’s suitors when you were younger.”

“me neither, but it somehow worked,” max nods proudly, turning slightly to look at george. “come on! this is practice for when it’s penelope’s turn! i have to make it believable this time.”

“you’re so drunk, mate,” george sighs. yet he still gets off his seat. “but i kinda want to see this with my own eyes.”

lando turns to oscar, still planted in his seat. lando doesn’t get to say a word before oscar starts shaking his head vigorously.

lando slouches. “why not?”

“i absolutely don’t believe that (y/n) is strong enough to take me in a normal fight,” oscar shakes his head, “but i’ve learned my lesson squeezing myself into a scenario that involves her dating life.”

george tilts his head. “what?”

oscar looks up, eyes scanning the three older men towering over him. “she gave me a really bad bruise one time when i scared off this guy that hit on her in the mall.”

“so?” max yanks oscar off his seat. “i’ll protect you. come on, i’ve got to see who’s sweeping (y/n) off her feet.”

“okay, but remember to tell her i tried to stop you,” oscar mutters, letting max push him towards the door.

after many dms sent on instagram, phone calls made, and struggles to find a taxi, the four have finally arrived at the restaurant. it’s a quiet establishment in the further end of the city, heads turning as passersby recognise the huddled men by the entrance.

“are you sure it’s this one?” oscar looks up at the sign. it’s a lot fancier than he expected. “doesn’t really seem like (y/n)’s gig.”

“if i were taking the grid’s princess out on a date, i’d take her to a fancy restaurant too,” max shrugs, following oscar’s stare.

the amount of time it took them to connect the puzzle pieces really sobered him up.

george taps his foot on the ground, craning his neck for a better look through the window. “are you sure it’s here? i don’t see her.”

“the girl that posted it said she was here when snapped the picture,” lando confirms, looking between his phone screen and the sign of the restaurant. “what if (y/n) tricked us knowing we’d come running?”

once the server comes back out, guiding them to their table, each of them does their own part to pick the girl from the crowd.

“i don’t see her,” max sighs, taking one last look at the restaurant’s tables and picking up the menu. “there’s no way we ditched the bar for a wild goose chase.”

“because she’s in the far corner over there,” oscar says nonchalantly, head flicking towards the other end of the restaurant where it’s slightly darker than normal. “i noticed her when we were outside the restaurant.”

george slowly turns his head to oscar. “while we were busting our asses looking for her?”

oscar shrugs, eyes boring into the menu for a snack to fill himself with. “i told you — i’m not getting another bruise for meddling with her love life.”

“nice! there’s a table closer to her!” max suddenly says, already on his feet to follow the waiter. he turns around and beckons his friends to follow him. “come on!”

they keep their heads low as the face of the familiar girl comes into sight. oscar even covers with his face with the menu, having learned his lesson from all those years ago.

they’re a table diagonal from her, menus up to cover their faces from her. “dude, who is she with?”

“i don’t know, i can’t get a look at his face without revealing mine,” george mutters, peeking slightly above his menu. he darts back down and rolls his eyes. “max, your turn.”

“don’t make it look obvious,” lando mutters, nudging max’s elbow with his. “look like you’re looking for a waiter.”

max swiftly turns in his seat, completely twisting his torso to get a look. but the man is faced away, the driver comfortably sitting in the booth seat as she giggles at something he said.

“dude, i can’t,” max shrugs, shying away behind his menu once more.

to the table next to them, a menu drops and reveals sebastian. “what are you idiots doing here?”

george’s jaw drops, pointing a finger at the older man. “we could ask you the same.”

“we saw her getting in a random ass car outside the paddocks.” the other menu across sebastian lowers, revealing logan with his hood covering his head. “we followed her here.”

“so you know who she’s with?” max asks in a hushed whisper, leaning towards their table. he looks down at the empty table. “you haven’t ordered anything?”

“it took us a while to get a table,” logan shrugs, pulling his hood further down to cover his face. “food’s in the kitchen.”

“oh, what did you get?” max asks, now looking back at the menu for something to order.

“mate!” george scolds, rolling his eyes before facing the other table. “who is she with?”

“according to blythe, it’s jacob elordi,” sebastian says, then shrugs with the roll of his eyes. “whoever that is.”

“oh, i’ve heard of him,” max nods, pressing his lips together. “he was in euphoria, wasn’t he?”

the table falls silent, heads turning to look at the dutchman as his confession falls from his lips. max notices their stares and he simply shrugs. “kelly and i like to watch shows over the break.”

“still not a show i expected you to be watching,” lando scoffs, turning slightly to get a glimpse of the girl once more. “isn’t he a bit too old for her?”

max straightens up, stiffly turning to look at lando. his head tilts as an unimpressed expression lands on his face. “dude. easy on the age gap.”

“yours doesn’t count,” lando sighs, “she’s practically a baby!”

oscar clicks his tongue. “but i mean… jacob elordi isn’t ugly, yes? an upgrade from her only boyfriend, right, max?”

max shrugs. “i guess.”

sebastian nods towards the table, his eyes suddenly widening at the empty booth seat. “where did she go? did she ditch him?”

“no, she caught you.” a low feminine voice makes all their heads turn to the end of the table. she looks down and pulls the hood off of logan’s head and shoves him forward slightly. “why are you here? you’re better than this!”

logan shrugs, chuckling slightly. “you were being secretive! i was just curious!”

“this is the last time i’m going on a date from the paddocks,” she grunts, stomping her heel into the ground. “go home, you guys! we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

sebastian hisses as the waiter stops behind her, dishes resting on top of the tray in his hands. “we already got some food.”

she narrows her eyes down, locking eyes with max. “you’re here too?”

max nods. “i suggested this,” his eyes go around the table, “team bonding activity.”

“i just wanted to see what would happen,” george admits. he points at max seated opposite him, “he said he wanted to scare off whoever your date is.”

“it’s true, i heard him say it,” lando nods, a small and guilty smile flashes at her. “we were just concerned about you.”

sebastian grabs her wrist gently, shaking her arm. “don’t be mad anymore. come on…”

“and you!” she points a finger at the australian sitting quietly between logan and george. his head snaps up at the yelp, wide and guilty eyes meeting hers. “i told you to stop meddling with my love life!”

“what?” oscar screams back, dropping his menu. “i was dragged here against my will!”

“i don’t believe you!”

“max!” oscar looks at max, then points at the furious girl as he awaits his explanation.

max stares at him for a second too long, and a giggle erupts from his throat. “right! right… we forced him here. he did not want another bruise, he said.”

“good,” she scolds, turning on her heel. “we’re leaving.”

“but we just got here!” lando squeaks. he cowers into his seat when she turns back around to glare at him, giving him flashbacks to a time when his mother would use it on him. “i mean, enjoy your time and don’t get too tired. it’s race day tomorrow.”

oscar doesn’t bother looking at her again. “see you tomorrow, loser.”

“where are you going?” george asks, a mischevious grin on his face to challenge her. “back to the hotel for some fun time?”

“a walk,” she sighs, dropping her head. she leans on the table. “my heels are killing me.”

“oh, i’ve got you,” sebastian mutters, disappearing underneath the table. out of his bag is a pair of doll shoes, the ones that she keeps in the garage when her time in the race car is over. “i saw these lying around aimlessly and thought i should keep them for you before it gets too dirty.”

she glares at him, hesitantly taking the shoes into her hand. “you took these from my room, didn’t you?”

sebastian shrugs. “you don’t wear heels very often, kid.”

“give me recommendations for date places,” logan smiles. “maybe next time i’ll have a girl out here with me. like you with jacob elordi.”

her mood changes back to what it was before: a mixture of irritation and not one of amusement. “i will kill you guys tomorrow. my date is waiting for me outside.”

oscar waves her towards the door. “i trust you’ll text logan and i about this later.”

“hey, i want in!” lando adds on, completely ignoring the girl walking away to the door.

“dude, this is seriously none of our business.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife

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briefinquiries · 6 months ago

Text

Spencer Reid x Reader: Until You Do

Prompt: You & Reid have unspoken feelings for each other.

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood / injury mention

A/N: This is a shameless repost (still trying to repost my fics since they got deleted. Enjoy :)

“Sorry I’m late,” Spencer says as he hurries into the briefing room. In one swift motion he slides his bag off his shoulder, laying it gently on the floor beside him, as he takes a seat in the only empty chair around the table.

Emily nods slightly in response, simultaneously telling Spencer that his lateness was excused, while also encouraging Garcia to continue presenting the team’s current case.

“Right, um, two people have been murdered outside of Seattle in their homes all within the last two weeks-”

While Garcia continues to speak, you let your gaze wander towards Spencer. His eyes are intently staring at the picture presented on the screen. He looks okay today, still tired, but not as disheveled as you’ve seen recently. You wonder if maybe he slept in today, and that was why he’d been late to work.

Prentiss starts talking about the victimology of the case when Spencer’s eyes shift and catch yours. Instantly, you’re flooded with the embarrassment of being caught staring. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly move your gaze into your hands resting in your lap. You feel Spencer’s eyes linger on you for a few moments longer, all the while hoping that he doesn’t notice the shade of pink your cheeks are slowly turning.

Focus, you think to yourself.You have a job to do. You turn your attention to the grisly murder scene displayed on the screen and tune back into Garcia’s voice.

“But hold onto your hats, crime fighters, because that’s not even the worst of this whole thing,” she elaborates. “On top of… all the gory things Emily just said, these poor people were all found missing parts of their liver and pancreas.” Her face contorts into a look of disgust, as if just saying the words out loud brought a bad taste to her mouth. “And check this out,” Garcia clicks a button on her remote and brings up a coroner’s report on the screen.

Reid scans the document faster than anyone else. He’s the first to speak. “They were alive when the Unsub cut out their organs.”

Garcia’s sad inhale can be heard throughout the room. “And that is why I am perfectly happy staying in the safe confinement of my bat cave while you all go out and fight evil.”

After Emily calls for wheels up in twenty, the team disperses out of the briefing room, each heading to their desks to gather their to-go bags and whatever other materials they might need for the ride to Seattle.

“Does Spence look off to you today?” JJ’s voice comes from behind you while you rummage through the top drawer of your desk for your cell phone. She leans against your chair casually and looks towards Reid. He’s standing across the room, clutching his shoulder bag and listening intently to something Matt was saying.

“What?” you sputter, just the sound of Spencer’s name sending you into overdrive. “How should I know?”

You realize only after the words leave your mouth how defensive they sound. You bite your lip and try to backpedal. “I mean, I don’t know. He seems fine to me.”

JJ narrows her eyes at you, clearly not buying your act. She is a profiler after all. But before she can interrogate your strange behavior any further, you stand up, grabbing hold of your duffel bag, and brush past her towards the exit.

The truth is, you’ve had feelings for Spencer for a while now. Longer than you’d like to admit. But you’re barely able to admit that to yourself, let alone anyone else. Especially anyone on the team.

Your love is unrealistic and unrequited. A combination that is destined for disaster. So, despite everything inside of you screaming for you to act on your feelings, you choose to bury them. Because that is what’s best for everyone. Everyone except for you.

…

Spencer tries not to overthink you staring at him. Or the way your cheeks blushed that beautiful shade of pink when he caught you. He can’t keep getting his hopes up when it comes to you, though. He’s already been let down so many times.

He thinks back to the very first week you joined the Bureau. God, he was absolutely starstruck as soon as you walked through the door. And if Luke hadn’t commented on the drool pouring down Spencer’s chin, he’s sure his mouth would’ve dropped all the way to his feet.

He’s even more intrigued the more he gets to know you- or rather, not know you, as time went on. Your incessant need for privacy peaked Spencer’s interest. You are mysterious, and Spencer’s always loved a good mystery.

“Would you want to get dinner with me tonight?” Spencer had asked you, only a month after you’d joined the team.

He still remembers how nervous he was, his clammy hands clutching tightly to the strap of his bag. He had to remind himself to breathe or else he might have passed out.

You barely looked up from the paperwork at your desk before turning him down. “Can’t tonight, I’m playing catch up,” you had said, your voice was void of anything even resembling interest.

“Don’t give up,” Luke had told him, clapping his shoulder roughly in the elevator. “I think she’s into you. Just ask again in a couple days, maybe she really was just busy.”

Now that his confidence was shaken, it took extra convincing in order to gain enough courage to ask you to dinner a second time. His stomach was full of butterflies, which Spencer always thought was a stupid analogy until now. But he swears he can feel their wings fluttering around inside of him as he approaches you, putting your coat on and ready to head home.

“Uh, H-Hi,” he stutters. “Do you want to grab some dinner? With uh, with me?” He can hear the shakiness in his own voice.

“Sure,” you had replied, looking up just as you finished doing up the last button on your jacket. You pushed the hair out of your face and smiled at him before turning around to face your coworkers. “Hey- JJ, Pen, Rossi. Spencer and I are gonna grab dinner, you guys in?”

All the butterflies in Spencer’s stomach instantly stilled.

You had made it painfully obvious to Spencer that you were not interested. And he wasn’t one to push.

Spencer tried getting over you. He tried stifling his feelings, ignoring the way he’d drop anything as soon as he heard your voice, or the way his spirits would instantly be lifted if Emily assigned the two of you the same task during a case. He tried not to notice that your favorite breakfast was toast with avocados or that you always bite your lip whenever you were stressed. And he tried not to pay attention to the fact that you liked your coffee with honey and jiggled your leg whenever you had to sit in one place for too long. Because that’s not the type of thing coworkers noticed about one another.

But you had a way of always pulling him back in. Like that morning you brought Spencer a coffee. You had laughed and said the barista messed up your original order, so you got that one for free, honestly it was no big deal. But Spencer tasted the hint of cinnamon and extra cream, and smiled to himself. He spent the entire morning dwelling on the fact that you also knew exactly how he liked his coffee.

Or, like when he’d catch you gazing at him during the briefing meetings.

He’s almost sure that it was nothing. He did barge in late, afterall. Everyone stared at him, right? So why can’t he stop thinking about it?

…

Seattle lived up to its rainy reputation. From the minute the team lands, the skies were dark with storm clouds.

Currently, you are all held up at the police station. After coordinating with the captain and deputies, you all start setting up in the back conference room. You work with Matt to start tacking up the info you already knew– pictures of the current victims, lists of possible witnesses all within a three mile radius of each crime scene, and any evidence that had been found.

Spencer immediately delves into cracking the geological profile, he has his nose practically pressed into the map of the area an officer had provided, seeing things no one else could. While the rest of the team worked through the Seattle PD’s casefiles, Garcia is on speaker phone, the light tapping of her keys can be heard faintly in the background.

“Garcia, any known connection between the victims?”

“Not that I can immediately see,” her voice rings through the speaker phone. “Katie is a second grade teacher, Ethan is a personal trainer at the local gym.”

“No gender preference,” JJ says while comparing the driver’s license photos of the victims.

“No race preference either,” Luke observes.

“Probably not surrogates,” Rossi drums his fingers together, too many differences.

“We have to be missing something,” Tara’s eyes wander from the photos of the victims.

“I’ll keep digging,” Garcia assures you all. “I just might need to get my bigger shovel.”

That evening, a third victim is found just across town.

“Luke, Matt– I want you to head to the dumpsite, canvas the area.” Emily orders. “Y/N, head to the coroner and check if the MO is the same for this victim as it was for the other two. See if you can find anything out about the missing organs. That has to mean something, we just don’t know what yet. JJ, Rossi, can you check out the victim’s house? Maybe we can start narrowing in how these people are all connected. Tara, the victims' family will be here soon. I’d like you to talk to them.”

Emily turns her back towards Spencer. He’s drawing lines on the map. “I’d like you to stay here, Reid. Maybe that third dumpsite can help you narrow down the geological profile.”

The team all nod in agreement, before beginning to disperse out of the conference room.

Garcia’s soft voice can be heard through the speaker ordering everyone to “Be safe!”

…

Once Reid is able to finish up his geological profile, pinpointing the Unsub’s comfort zone within the city, he really starts to feel like they’re closing in.

“Using the abduction and dumpsites for each victim, I was able to narrow it down to this area,” Reid explains to Emily, drawing the lines on the board. Connected, they formed a small radius. “I think the Unsub lives in one of these three neighborhoods. Matt and Luke are in this area,” he points to one district. “And JJ and Rossi are here,” he points to the second. “If it’s alright, I’d like to head out to the last neighborhood, Medina. I’ll talk to the witnesses there and see what I can find out?”

Emily nods, “Good work, Reid.”

With Spencer gone, Tara and Emily are the only two left at the police station. Emily continues pouring over the evidence while Tara speaks to the victims’ families. About fifteen minutes after Reid leaves the precinct, Emily gets a call on her cell.

“What do you have?”

“Emily, I think I might have found the connection we were missing between the victims.” You say through the phone. You’re at the coroner’s office still, the bodies of the three victims laid out in front of you. “The doctor said each of the victims had the blood type AB-negative.”

“That’s the rarest blood type,” Emily adds.

“Exactly. Which could be a coincidence, but the fact that he’s removing organs makes me wonder– what if he’s trying to do a transplant?”

The pieces missing from the profile slowly start to click together in Emily’s mind. “Good work,” she says quickly. “Can you stay on the line for a minute? I’m going to patch Garcia through.”

“Yeah,” you confirm. You wait a few moments before you hear a dial tone. After only one ring, the line connects. “Garcia, I need you to tell me if any of the names on our lists are suffering from fatal illnesses involving either the pancreas or the liver.”

Emily can hear the clicking of Garcia’s keyboard keys on the other end of the line as she works.

“Zilch,” she says, disappointment evident in her voice.

You sigh, but your gut really told you that this was important, so you pressed on. “What about family members of the names on our lists?”

After a few moments of searching Garcia inhales sharply. “There’s a Philip Gardiner on our list and his father, Joseph Gardiner, is currently suffering from stage 4 pancreatitis cancer.”

There’s a brief pause before Garcia adds, “His medical records show that his father has AB negative blood type.”

“How would he know which victims have the same blood type as his father?” You ask.

There’s a brief pause before Garcia says, “Philip Gardiner is a medical assistant at the family practice in Medina.”

“Let me guess–” Emily’s voice trails off.

“All three victims were patients at that practice.”

That’s all that Emily needs. “What’s his address?”

“Already sent to all your phones.”

“Thanks, Garcia.”

In a haste, Emily dials in the remaining members of the team. One by one, each group answers. Everyone except for Spencer. His phone hits his voicemail, but Emily continues anyway.

“Guys, I think we got him. A guy named Philip Gardiner, he was on our list of witnesses. His father has stage four pancreatitis cancer and we think he’s trying to find a healthy pancreas to give to his father.”

Emily looks up the address on the map Spencer so carefully drew out. She runs her finger along the map before finding the exact address.

Meanwhile, you hear the ping of Garcia’s text ring through your phone. When you check the GPS distance, it says you’re only a mile away. In a haste, you offer the coroner a quick ‘thank you’, before heading out of the medical examiner’s room.

“I’ve got his address here on the map,” Prentiss explains. Her finger trails around the region of the Unsub’s house, her heart stopping when she realizes that was the area that Reid was going to question witnesses… Alone. “Penelope,” she says, her voice higher than usual. “Give me the list of witnesses in the Medina area.”

Garcia begins rattling off a small list of names through the phone. But she inhales sharply after a moment before reading out the name, “Philip Gardiner.”

“Reid went to question the witnesses in the Medina area. He left just over an hour ago,” Prentiss explains.

“What?” Your voice rings loudly on the line, as you hoist yourself into the SUV. Your entire insides fill with dread.

“Can we try his phone again,” Matt suggests.

“I’ve tried three times now, the first time it rang, but now it’s going straight to voicemail,” Garcia says worriedly.

“Who’s closest to Medina?” Luke asks.

“I am,” you say, checking your GPS. You’re only a few minutes away from where Reid was. Instantly, you fumble with your keys before harshly turning them and throwing the vehicle into gear. On impulse, you began speeding down the road in the direction of Spencer, pressing the pedal continuously harder..

“I want you to wait for backup,” Emily declares sternly. “This Unsub is armed and dangerous, I do not want you going there alone.”

“Emily–” you argue. Your knuckles are growing white with how hard you’re gripping the wheel. The sheer thought of Spencer, alone with that monster, makes you cringe. He had no clue that he was walking into the house of the Unsub– therefore he could have been jumped, or blitzed, or worse… You shake the thought out of your mind and focus instead on the road ahead.

“Wait for Alvez and Simmons, they’re only ten minutes behind you,” Emily says over the phone.

You shake your head, even though you know none of them can see you. “No, no, no,” you say, your voice starting to waiver. “No, that’s too long– he doesn’t know–”

“We’re on our way now,” Luke’s voice rings through the line.

“It’s Reid–” you gasp, your eyes filling with tears. “I can’t leave him in there alone.” You can’t stand the thought of Reid being hurt, when there’s the possibility of stopping it. If you go there now, you can save him– but if you wait for backup, like Prentiss suggested, he could die.

“Y/L/N,” Emily states sternly. “I am ordering you to wait for backup, is that understood?”

You continue speeding down the road, the Unsub’s house just up ahead. You can see Reid’s discarded vehicle parked on the side of the street, confirming what you already knew. He’s there. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“It’s Spencer–” your voice is just above a whisper. You have direct orders from your supervisor. Direct orders you know you need to follow, or else there would be serious repercussions. You could be demoted, or transferred, or fired from the Bureau all together. But then you imagine Spencer’s face, and you pictured the crime scene photos from the case. What if Spencer wound up like all those other victims? Cut up and discarded on the side of the road like a piece of garbage? You imagine him in there– alone with the Unsub, wondering if anyone was coming to save him. Yes, you think. You’re coming to save him. “I can’t wait, Emily. I’m sorry.”

You only hear the beginning part of her protest before you end the phone call with a click. You waste no time in launching yourself out of the black SUV, weapon drawn and quickly approaching the front door of the house.

The drizzle that had been steady since that morning has turned into a hard rain fall. It makes seeing anything around you increasingly difficult. But once you approach the Unsub’s porch, you’re able to take a peek through the windows. You’re hoping to see any sign of Spencer, but instead, the curtains are drawn obstructing your view.

With your heart beating wildly underneath your own chest, you burst through the unlocked door of Philip Gardiner’s home.

As soon as your eyes adjust to the darkness inside the house, you’re shocked by what you see. The first thing you notice is Reid. He’s kneeling on the ground with his hands placed above his head. His gun was laying on the ground five feet away from him, discarded like he’d been ordered to drop it. The second thing you realize is that you’re outnumbered. Because not only is Philip Gardiner pointing a gun at Spencer, but his father, Joseph is as well.

You realize that you just assumed Philip’s father was incapacitated, too sickly and unwell to play any part in these murders. But now you can see that obviously isn’t the case.

All eyes turn towards you upon your sudden entrance. But you only look at Reid. His sunken eyes widening when he sees you.

“Put the gun down,” Philip orders, his voice deep and thick with malice. Joseph steps forward and grabs the back of Reid’s head, hoisting it back. He presses the barrel of his pistol right into Reid’s temple.

“Okay,” you say instantly, trying not to panic. “Okay, okay–” you slowly start to lower your gun. “I’m putting it down.” Don’t shoot him, don’t shoot him, your mind raced.

You slide your glock across the floor towards Philip and his father carefully. The younger of the two Unsub’s wastes no time in scooping it up off the floor, before aiming his own gun at you.

“Why’re you here?” he bellows, his voice shaking with emotion. “Why can’t you people just leave us alone!”

You take a deep breath, a feeble attempt at steadying yourself. “Philip, I’m here to help you,” you say calmly.

The confusion on his face urges you to continue. “Actually, I’m here to help your father,” you tell him.

“My father?” he asks, his voice littered with skepticism.

“That’s right, I heard he was sick.”

Philip steps closer to you, the gun never wavering in his hand. “That’s right.”

“I’m here to help. You need a transplant. Pancreas, right?”

Philip’s eyes widen and that’s when you realize you’ve gotten him right where you wanted him. “Your father is AB-negative, right? That’s the rarest blood type, it’s hard to find a match.”

Your eyes dart to Spencer quickly, who’s still kneeling on the floor. He’s looking at you with desperation and fear plastered over his face. You wish he could read your mind, could hear what you were thinking. You are going to get out of here, you’d tell him. I am going to make sure that you get out of here alive.

Even if it means I don’t.

“He can’t help you. He won’t be a match,” you tell them, gesturing towards Spencer. “But I am.”

“Is this a trick?” Philip asks, his hand was starting to shake from how firmly he was holding the gun.

“No,” you say, shaking your head in unison with your words. You’re surprised at how calm you’re starting to feel. “No tricks. Just a trade. Let him go, and you can take me instead. Cut me open, take what you want. Just– just let him go,” you plead.

Philip and his dad both nod slowly.

“Okay,” you say, slowly walking towards the unsubs, your hands raised in the air to show them you aren’t going to play any tricks.

“What’re you doing?” Reid’s voice is high pitched and panicked. He’s looking frantically at you for answers

But you ignore him.

“Let him go,” you urge Gardiner. He nods, and his father uses the fist full of Reid’s hair he still had a hold of to hoist him up on his feet.

Reid stands, but his eyes remain trained on you. “Y/N, stop– what’re you doing?”

Gardiner grabs a hold of your vest when you’re close enough, tugging you into his embrace. He bars his arm around your neck and plants the gun on your temple. “Go–” he orders Reid.

Spencer’s stumbling towards the door. “No, no, no–” he stutters.

“Go, or I’ll shoot her right here,” Gardiner orders. You feel the hard, cold barrel of the gun press deeper into the tissue of your temple, but you still don’t shake. Spencer is going to be safe, you think. That’s all that mattered.

Reid’s eyes are wide and watery. He’s looking at you wildly, like his genius brain can’t comprehend anything that’s happening.

But you nod towards him reassuringly. “Spencer, it’s okay,” you tell him, surprised, yet again, by how calm you feel. “Go, it’s okay.”

It was an easy choice sacrificing yourself for Spencer. The concept of death was scary, but the idea of losing Spencer? That was just unbearable. Plus, there’s no doubt that he’s infinitely more valuable to the team than you are. You know they’d mourn your loss. But they’d get over it, you were replaceable with any other agent. But Spencer? That would leave a wound no other profiler could fill.

You catch one last glimpse of Spencer before Joseph Gardiner's dad escorts him outside of the house. As the door shuts, ensuring Reid is safe, you’re finally able to exhale the breath of air you’ve been holding in. Spencer is going to be okay.

“Come with me,” Gardiner orders gruffly. He grabs you by your elbow and drags you towards the back of the house. You stumble on your feet, trying to keep up with his pace. Gardiner leads you all the way through the hallway, around a corner, and through the sliding back door. The exit leads to a deck on the back of the house. It looks old, with chipped red paint and clutter scattered all around it.

You make your way across it and down a few stairs. When your feet hit the ground, they squish from impact on the wet grass beneath them. Gardiner leads you just a few feet forward. Attached to the back of his house is a cellar door. He undoes the latch before hoisting it open, revealing a pitch black basement.

“Get in,” he orders, pointing the gun right between your shoulder blades.

You hesitate briefly, which proves to be a costly mistake. Gardiner hoists the pistol back and rams it into the side of your head. Your entire body whips forward and you stumble on your feet. “I said get in!” he screams.

As you feel the blood already trickling down your temple, you nod.

Taking one step forward, you begin descending into Philip Gardiner’s basement.

The first thing you do when you’re fully inside is gasp at the smell. It ensnares all of your senses, completely overwhelming you. The back of your hand pressed against your nose does little to mask it.

Gardiner climbs into the basement after you and turns on a light, illuminating the horror scene in front of you. There are surgical tools and blades on a metal tray wheeled next to a bed with restraints. The bed has dark, crimson blood still on it.

You’ve walked into horror scenes, much like this one, a countless number of times. But now that you knew this scene was set for you, it sent unsettling shivers down your spine. Better you than Spencer, you remind yourself. The thought makes you instantly feel calmer.

Gardiner grabs a pair of zip ties on top of the shelf and throws them towards you. “Put them on,” he orders. You nod, and quickly obey him, your head still throbbing from the last time you hesitated.

Now that you’re restrained, Philip steadily works to set up equipment by placing a wide variety of tools on the metal tray. You realize that he was getting ready to kill you.

Despite the obvious fear running through your veins, your mind slowly begins to wander to Spencer. The look on his face when Joseph hauled him out of the room, away from you, is burned into your mind. The hurt, the fear, and the confusion all on full display. But he is safe now, and that is all that mattered.

You wonder if Spencer would figure out why you took his place tonight. You wonder if he’d realize that it wasn’t even an option for you not to, that you had no other choice. You wonder if he knew you couldn’t live without him, or would ever want to.

Philip Gardiner continues stalking around the room. The knives laid out on display make you nauseous. You combat it by taking slow, deep breaths, all while repeating the mantra in your head; he was safe.

Except suddenly, your mantra is interrupted when the latch to the cellar door bursts open with a bang. Two tall, muscular figures descend down the stairs and into the cellar, their guns drawn.

“Drop it,” Luke orders sternly, he’s moving in towards Gardiner with a look of pure hatred on his face. Philip raises his hand above his head, the scalpel still clutched tightly in his grasp. But Luke is quick to disarm him before grabbing a pair of handcuffs and clicking them around Gardiner’s wrists.

Matt, meanwhile, attends to you. He uses his knife to break through the zip ties that have managed to almost cut all the circulation off from your wrists.

“Let me see,” he says softly, tending to the cut on your forehead. You only now realize that the blood oozing from it had mostly dried, caking itself to the side of your face.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, trying to stand up. Luke drags Gardiner past you and Matt and up the stairs.

“That doesn’t look fine,” Matt says. “You’re going to need stitches.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, raising your hand to touch the wound. Despite your efforts, you wince at the contact. As you finally make it to your feet, you’re woozier than expected. You waiver slightly in place, your head spinning.

“Easy,” he says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Said ‘m fine,” you grumble again.

Matt nods and adds sarcastically, “Whatever you say.”

He leads you out of the basement, his hand never leaving your shoulder. It’s not until you’re outside, in the cool night air, when you see an entire scene unfolding around you.

All four of the black SUV’s are parked outside the Unsub’s house– yours with the driver’s side door still wide open from when you’d previously left it in a haste. There’s also an abundance of squad cars gathered, their lights flashing blues and reds, reflecting grimly in the dark. There’s two ambulances parked near the road, two medics rushing frantically towards you.

“Where’s Reid?” you ask Matt, your eyes searching the crowd for him.

“Medic’s checking him out right now. He’s okay though.”

You sigh a breath of relief, exhaling tension that you didn’t even realize was still inside of you. That’s all that mattered. You can handle everything else.

At least that’s what you thought. You groan when you see Emily jogging over, her vest still strapped on.

After disobeying her direct orders, you immediately know you were in for it.

“Matt, how is she?” she asks, refusing to actually look at you.

“Banged up, possible concussion– I think she’ll need stitches.”

“I can hear you,” you say, wondering why the two of them were talking about you like you were unconscious, or not even present.

“Get her to the medics,” Emily orders. “We’ll talk later,” she says, her dark eyes piercing yours.

You nod slowly. You’d gone against her wishes and broken her trust. The adrenaline that had previously been rushing through your body prevented you from originally seeing that. But the rush is starting to fade, and in its wake left a tremendous amount of guilt and shame. You never meant to cross Emily. You had only wanted to save Reid. She had to understand that, right?

Either way, you made a choice, and now you’d pay the consequences. But it was an easy choice. One that you would make over and over again. Because you’d always choose Spencer, no matter what.

Matt only lets you go when the medics reach you. They lead you the rest of the way to the ambulance, where you sit on the edge of the back door. The EMT wraps a coarse blanket around your shoulders before starting an exam. He shines lights in your eyes, asks you repetitive questions, and checks your wound. After a while, you zone it all out.

Until you see him.

He’s walking past the second ambulance with his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. He has a small bandage placed just above his left eyebrow. You gaze at Spencer, checking him over. He looks okay, other than the bandage, he’s unharmed. You exhale another breath of relief. When he locks eyes with you, you can’t help but smile.

He keeps his gaze locked on yours, but he doesn’t smile back. Instead, his face remains stoic and serious, his eyes glaring with anger, before looking away. He turns on his feet and walks towards one of the black SUV’s, climbing into the front seat and snapping the door shut Your smile quickly melts away.

…

On the plane ride home, you take a seat directly across from Spencer. He’s got his nose already stuffed in a book. He doesn’t even glance up when you sit down.

“Spencer,” you say, trying to get his attention.

But he ignores you.

“Reid,” you huff, quickly growing frustrated by his silence.

Spencer snaps his book shut suddenly and stands up from his seat. Without so much as a single glance he strides across the jet and finds a seat next to Luke and Matt. He crosses one leg over the other and opens his book back up again, going back to his literature like nothing had just happened– like he hadn’t just ripped out your entire heart.

You’re in the process of biting back tears when Emily replaces Reid’s seat directly across from you. You tuck your feet up on the seat and wrap your arms around yourself, trying to take up less space, or better yet, disappear altogether.

For a moment, neither one of you speaks.

After a few seconds, Emily sighs. “How’s your head?” she asks, breaking the silence.

“It’s fine,” you mumble. That’s a plain lie. Your head throbs. But it’s nothing compared to the ache inside your chest.

“You were out of line.” Emily states calmly.

“I know,” you whisper, refusing to meet her gaze.

“I gave you a direct order–”

“I know,” you repeat.

“When I give you an order, I need to be able to trust that you’re going to follow it. If this team doesn’t have trust, this team doesn’t have anything.”

You nod, your cheeks flushing hot. She’s putting you on the spot, and speaking loud enough for the entire jet to hear. You deserve it though, you know you did.

Emily lets out a sigh, her tone suddenly softening and her voice growing quiet. “What were you thinking?”

You bite your lip harshly, fighting to hold back the sob boiling in your chest. You wipe your cheeks feverishly before replying. “I was thinking better me than Spencer,” you whisper. “I’m replaceable. He’s not.”

Emily shakes her head. “You are important to this team.”

You stare down at your lap, unable to truly hear the words Emily was saying.

But she reaches across the gap and gathers your hands in hers. “Listen to me,” she says sternly. You finally gather up enough courage to look up. “You are important to this team.” She repeats the words slower and enunciates them more.

You slowly nod, letting them seep into your skin. You aren’t sure if you believed her, but it’s a start.

“Okay,” you say. Slowly, you pull your hands away.

“Do you want to tell me what else is bothering you?” she asks gently.

You bite your lip harder. You aren’t sure if you can trust yourself to speak without crying.

“I did it for him,” you finally say. “Because I wanted to keep him safe. But now he’s so angry at me.”

Emily scoffs at your statement, making you narrow your eyebrows in confusion at her.

“Yeah, right,” she says, amusement dancing in her words.

“He won’t even look at me,” you say quietly. “I mean– I get why you’re mad at me,” you admit. “I disobeyed your orders, I broke protocol– you could’ve gotten in trouble if anything had happened. But I don’t understand why he is too,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “I was just trying to do the right thing… And now he hates me for it.”

Emily shakes her head. “I may not know much, but what I do know is that Spencer Reid isn’t capable of hating you.”

…

Reid hurries off the jet before you’re able to talk to him, which is what you’d been planning since taking off in Seattle. You groan and wonder if maybe you should just give him space. Clearly that’s what he wants.

But, when you’re back inside the BAU, cleaning out your desk. Just as you’re about to go home, you look up and see him in the briefing room. Through the glass, Spencer’s thin frame can be seen cleaning up some case files that were left on the table. His back is to you and suddenly, the idea of cornering him in there entered your mind. He has to hear you out, he has to understand why you did what you did.

Before you can chicken out or change your mind, you hurry upstairs and hoist open the glass doors to the room. Spencer turns around, your sudden entrance jumping him. His face actually looks angrier when he realizes it’s you entering his space.

“Spencer–” you say, your voice already cracking. You aren’t sure how you’re going to do this.

“What?” he snaps back harshly, the first words he’s spoken to you since the event. His eyes are sunken and tired, his hair disheveled and messy– still you don’t think you’d ever seen someone so beautiful in your entire life.

“What did I do?” you plead.

“Are you kidding me?” he says in disbelief.

“I just– I was trying to do the right thing,” you explain.

But Reid cuts you off. “You completely disobeyed Emily’s orders,” he takes a step closer to you. “You were reckless and selfish and stupid and–”

Your eyes widen. “Selfish?”

“Yes, selfish!” he bellows, his hands raising in frustration. “You broke protocol. And willingly put yourself into the arms of an Unsub, just so that you could play the hero!”

“I was not trying to be a hero!” you start to raise your own voice in defense.

But Spencer shakes his head. “Then why’d you do it?”

By now, you’re biting your lip so hard you can taste blood. The anger and frustration you’re feeling towards Spencer left a bad taste in your mouth. Why can’t he understand, why can’t you make him understand?

Did you have to spell it out?

“I did it because I couldn’t stand the idea of something bad happening to my team,” your voice is low. “Even if that meant something bad had to happen to me.”

Spencer stands still, his gaze never softening. After a few moments you speak again. “It worked, didn’t it? I don’t get why you’re so upset–”

In a rushed tone, he blurts out, “I’m upset because you put yourself in danger! I could have lost you!”

Spencer’s words take you back. And you find yourself speechless. Your face immediately softens as you try to absorb what he said, but you’re exhausted and concussed and honestly, don’t trust your own judgment at the moment.

All you can manage to mutter out is a soft, “Oh.”

Spencer’s anger seems to slowly be melting into just plain sorrow. It hurts to see him looking like he’s in pain.

“Why would you sacrifice yourself like that?” he asks, his voice is gentler now.

“Because,” you whisper. It seems like you do have to spell it out for him. “Because that seemed more bearable than the idea of anything happening to you.” The words spilled out of you uncontrollably. You've kept your feelings a secret from Reid for so long, you’re afraid what would happen if you finally revealed them. “The truth is… I’m kind of in love with you. And I couldn’t live with myself if anything ever happened to you.”

At that, Spencer's mouth fell open slightly, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

He takes another step forward, and in that moment, for the second time that evening, you wish you could disappear, just dissolve into nothingness, out of sight. You’re feeling so vulnerable, so exposed, you wish you could take the words back– just suck them right back into your mouth and keep them there, a secret forever.

But Spencer speaks softly, interrupting your thoughts. “What?”

You shake your head. “Don’t make me say it again–”

“I love you too.”

You hear it– but you don’t believe it. Because it can’t be true.

“Please,” you whisper, wondering if this was just some cruel joke. There is no way Spencer could love you back. “Don’t mess with me. I can’t take it, not from you.”

Reid shakes his head. “I swear to you, I would never joke about something like this.”

“Don’t–”

He takes another step forward and reaches his hand out, touching your cheek softly. His fingers graze your jaw line. “I am in love with you, and I have been for quite some time. Pretty much since the first day I met you. That’s why I was so angry today– imagine if I’d done that to you– taken your place in that house– forced you to leave me with that monster.”

Just the thought made your blood start to boil. The idea of Spencer actually loving you back was just over the horizon– the thought that maybe it’s true was within reach.

You bite your lip nervously, the feeling of Reid’s thumb gliding across your skin sends shivers down your spine. “I don’t know if I can believe you,” you whisper.

“Then I’ll just keep telling you,” Spencer says softly. “Until you do.”

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid angst

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buttsmasher · 1 month ago

Text

Gassy Roommate Paiten (Edited & Extended)

Warnings/Tags: Gay Face Farting, Underwear Stealing, Somewhat Willing Victim, Straight x Gay, Bullying, F slur used quite a bit, Face Farting, Eproctophilia

You remember the first time you met Paiten. He was a cool guy, a little bit of a gym rat, but overall, pretty chill guy to hang with. You guys would hang out a lot and eventually he moved in when Dustin moved out.

No one really knew, but you were totally into Paiten. You were into his huge arms, his awesome abs, and his ass was awesome. The way they hugged his jeans made you drool. Like literal drool. The worst part about Paiten was that he was the gassiest person you knew. A walking fart bomb is what some of your friends called him.

You and him would be watching the football game and he’d rip ass and say nothing. Every time, a weird sick part of you would get turned on. You could feel your heartbeat start to speed up and your pants would get just a little bit tighter.

The best worst days were when you were sleeping and you’d wake up to Paiten’s ass in your face. He’d rip a nasty wet fart and you’d startle awake with the smell of his rancid ass. He’d laugh and rush out your room as you pretend to be disgusted by him. But as soon as he was gone, you’d start stroking your dick fantasizing about him smothering your face in his giant globes.

When it was really bad, you’d sneak into his bedroom and steal his underwear from the dirty hamper in the corner of his room. You’d always try to grab a pair and then replace it with one that you have stolen before. This time you managed to steal his red Under Armor boxers and replace them with a blue Fruit of the Loom pair.

You sneak out of his room heading back to your room when you bump into Paiten. You stumble backwards and you look up at Paiten. “What were you doing in my room?” He asks you confused before looking at your hand and then back up to you.

“Uh, I thought I, uh, left something in there?” You stumble on your words as you try to hide the undies behind your back.

“Uh huh.” His eyes narrow on you. “So, why are you taking my boxers?”

“Um.” You drop the boxers and charge to your bedroom, Paiten grabs his boxers off the ground and follows you. You go to slam the door but Paiten gets his foot in and keeps the door open.

“Look I just want to talk, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Paiten says but you keep trying to push the door closed.

“No thank you.” You say straining on the door.

“Dude.” He easily just pushes the door open and you flop on the ground. “You a fag or something?” He holds his boxers as he stares down at you.

“The fuck man, I ain’t a fag.”

“You were stealing my dirty boxers.” Paiten sits down on your chest so you can’t get up. He begins to rub the crotch of the boxers on your face. “That turning you on?” You shake your head no but you can feel your sweats start to tent. “You want my dick?”

“No, dude, get off me.” You raise your hands to push him but he grabs them and holds them so you can’t move.

Pffft

A quick fart comes out of Paiten’s ass and you can feel the color on your face drain. “Wait, are you a fart fag?”

“Dude, no, stop.” Paiten gets up but he puts a foot on your chest. You take it as not to get up. You watch as he slowly unbuckles his belt and strips off his jeans. He’s wearing a pair of charcoal boxer briefs that look old. You gulp as you stare at his bulge move as he kicks off his sweats.

“So, you’re going to tell me you don’t want this?” Paiten turns and starts to wiggle his ass. “I mean come on buddy, everyone wants some of this.”

“I don’t.” You shake your head no but he eyes your boner. He decides to sit down on your face without warning. He moves around till he gets your nose up his crack. It’s obvious he went to the gym today.

“How ‘bout now.” You try your hardest to fight your hardon. “Come on take a whiff, you’ll like it.” You do your very best at not taking in a breath but you can’t help it. You inhale and without meaning to, a moan escapes your lips. “I knew it.” Paiten pushes his ass farther back so your head can’t lift off the ground and releases the nastiest fart you’ve ever heard. You take a loud inhale and moan from the scent. You can feel yourself humping the air. “You’re fucking getting off on this?”

PFFFFBRBRBRBR

“You’re telling me, that your faggot ass is getting off on me farting on your face.” You keep sniffing loudly without any reservation to what you’re doing. “Jesus christ you’re such a fucking faggot.” He begins to get up and out of pure instinct you grab his underwear and try to pull him back down. You’re unsuccessful and instead you rip his boxers. “Fucking faggot.” He ignores the fact that you ripped his boxers and just leaves the room.

Your boner is pressing hard against the fabric of your boxers as you keep sniffing the air trying to get what’s left of Paiten’s terrible gas.

After the hour long jack off session and sleeping for the night, you awake the next morning. You stare at the ceiling trying to decide if you should get up or hide in your room all day. You could live off the junk food and your laptop if you really need to. Instead you peek out your bedroom window to look at the driveway.

Paiten’s car is still in the driveway, so it seems that he’s still in the house. You give a sigh before sitting yourself back on your bed. Then you see them, the red Under Armour boxers you tried stealing the day before. You stare for about 30 seconds before getting up and grabbing them.

You bring them to your nose and you take a loud inhale. You can smell the lingering sweat and Paiten’s natural musk. Again, you start to feel yourself chub up but then you realize what you’re doing and pull them away from your face. You will your boner away as you leave your bedroom.

You make your way to Paiten’s room and knock on the door. You hear shuffling behind the door and the door swings wide open. Paiten is shirtless and is only wearing a camo pair of pajamas. Your eyes get lost at his chest and abs before he clears his throat.

“Need something?” He sounds smug.

“Oh-uh, yeah, um.” You begin. “I’m just returning these.” You shove the red boxers into his hands. “Okay bye.” You say awkwardly as you turn.

“Wait.” You stop but don’t make eye contact. “Does my ass look good in these PJs?” You turn and see him ass faced towards you. You can’t lie, his ass looks fantastic in those PJs and you’re about to voice that.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT

He grunts as he lets out a loud seven second fart. “Fuuck me, that felt good.” He sighs in relief before wafting the air around his ass towards you.

“You’re disgusting.” You say, even though you’re totally enjoying the view and smell.

“That’s a compliment coming from you fart fag.” He laughs. He grabs your arm and pulls you into his bedroom. He loudly slams the door shut and flings you towards his bed. “Lay down, face up.” You blink twice before doing as he says. “Good fag.” He climbs above you and sits down on your chest.

PFFFFBBRFFFFFF

The fart vibrates on your chest. “I figured there’s a reason for us finding each other.” He drags his ass up your chest and gets closer to your face. “I mean, I am the gas bomb.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFF

“And somehow, I get so lucky that my roomie is a fart fag.”

PFFFFBBRRRRRFFFTTTTTTT

The smells are getting worse the closer he’s getting to your nose. “I mean, I have to take advantage of that right?” He gives you a show by flexing his butt cheeks. “And I have this fantastic ass that has fags drooling.”

PBBBRBRBRFFFFFTTTTTT

You feel a breeze against your face and you're properly bricked up now. He readjusts himself and plops his fat cheeks down on your face. “I think this can be a mutually beneficial friendship.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

The rotten smell invades your nostrils as you sniff the gas. You can’t help but push yourself as close as you can against his clothed pucker.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFF

The sigh of relief he lets out makes your dick strain against your own PJs. “It’s hilarious you’re getting off on this, but I can’t lie. Farting on your face makes my dick hard.”

PFFFFFFFFFBBBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“I’d never find a girl into this, but a dirty fag like you.”

PFBBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“Fuuck.” He grunts as more of his sewage smelling farts fill your lungs. “I figure I could use you as much as I’d like.” You can’t argue his logic, nor do you really want to because you’re getting exactly what you want. Being trapped under Paiten’s ass is a dream come true.

PFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFTTTTTTT PFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

Your nose gets bombarded by fart after fart and you can feel precum leaking into your PJs. You’ve never been so hard before and his ass is totally destroying your face. You feel hot and sweaty and it smells so bad, but your dick keeps flexing.

“I’ll never understand how anyone likes this. It’s one thing to appreciate someone’s ass, but to actually sniff farts is disgusting.” His hole flexes a few times before letting out another ungodly fart on your nose. It’s silent but the solid torrent of air being blown up your nose lets you know that he’s still releasing the toxic air.

You cough hard as you finish inhaling that constant torrent of gas. “I don’t understand it either.” You manage to say. He responds by lifting up and then slamming his ass back down on your face.

“Don’t speak. All I should hear is you sniffing faggot.”

PFFFFFFBRBRFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

You do as he says and inhale the loud fart. It burns as it goes down and you feel lightheaded.

“This isn’t a friendship or a relationship. This is me using my ass to get off.”

PFFFFFFFFTT PFFFFFFFFFFFBBFFFT PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

Fart after fart keeps hitting your nose and things begin to start spinning. You feel like you're about to cum the hardest you’ve ever had in your life.

PFFFFFFBRRFFFFFFFT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“That’s it faggot. Get off on my godly gas bombs.” You realize that he’s stroking his cock above you.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

“Oh god, that feels so good.” He sighs to himself as you're forced to keep inhaling. You’re so close now, but you can’t tell if you’re about to cum yourself or pass out.

PFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFTTTTT

PFFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFFFT

PFBBRFFFFFFFFFFFFT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTT

You can’t help the cry that you let out as your cock starts shooting rope after rope of cum. It’s the most amazing orgasm and causes your whole body to start shaking.

“That’s fucking pathetic.” Paiten laughs above you. “My ass bombs just made you cum.”

PFFFFFFBBRRRRRFFFFFTTTT

“Well let’s just see how long you can last with just my ass for air.”

PFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

Bomb after bomb hits your face and you can feel Paiten is getting close to cumming as well based on how his body is shaking.

PFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

“God, I’m so fucking close.” He’s panting above you. “Feels so good destroying your face.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

He lets out a rocking 15 second fart and you hear him moaning above you as he starts to cum. The smell is starting to become unbearable now and you’re having issues thinking straight.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT

PFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

“There’s no way you’re still awake after that.” Paiten jokes as the loud toxic fumes keep hitting your face. All you can smell is eggs and rotten sewage. Everything is spinning around you now.

“Enough.” You cough out. You only get a laugh in response.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

PBBRBRBRBBRBRBRBRBRRRRRRRR

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT

You feel heavy and you almost feel like you're floating out of your body. You try to push him off you, but you’re too weak at this point. You begin to panic as you realize you can’t escape.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

A loud 30 second fart hits you this time and takes you out. You hear laughing as you feel your body go limp.

When you awake again, you’re laying on the floor of the hallway. You have a massive headache and all you can smell is ass. Namely Paiten’s ass. You use the wall to get up and notice how sticky your PJs feel around your dick. You struggle to get to the bathroom but you make it and get in the shower.

You can’t stop yourself from blowing another load down the shower drain thinking about Paiten’s ass destroying your lungs again.

~~FIN

#Gay Face Farting #Underwear Stealing #Somewhat Willing Victim #Straight x Gay #Bullying #F slur used quite a bit #Face Farting #Eproctophilia

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hyunjuenthusiast · 24 days ago

Note

I don't know if you meant like writing a one-shot or something was available but if it is can you do something with Hyun-ju x femreader! ?? Maybe angst or yandere or both?!

Yesssss my requests are definitely open!! Hopefully I do right by you anon with this goated af request! Let me cook!

BITTERSWEET (PART 1)

Summary: Y/n has always been sweet to everyone, no matter their background or their appearance. So what happens when Y/n is sweet to the wrong person?

Pairing: Yandere Hyun-ju! x Femreader!

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, stalking, obsession, angst, breaking and entering, abandonment issues, talk of transphobia, drugging. (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Y/n L/n was raised to always treat people with kindness, no matter who they were. Her parents taught her that besides love, the most important thing was kindness, and now that her parents have passed, she keeps those values close. When Y/n first moved to South Korea, she didn't know the language all that well. But even so, she didn't have difficulties making friends who taught her how to speak Korean. Her bright smile and cheery attitude tributed to that.

On one particularly hot summer day, Y/n was talking a stroll through a few local shops. One shop in particular was her favorite. It sold these cute little pastries that had the most delectable chocolate mousse in the middle, and she deserved one! Her week had been so hectic, so swamped with paperwork and drama, so she was rewarding herself with a sweet treat!

As she opened the door, Y/n was hit with the most mouth-watering smell of desserts. This shop not only had her favorite pastries, but it had everything a sweet tooth could crave. But she could never stray away from her delicious pastries. Y/n quickly stood in line behind a few other people.

The line moved slowly, but that was okay. She wasn't in a rush. She heard the door open once more, and she turned to see a tall woman enter the shop. She had the prettiest pastel purple sweater on and a long black skirt! Y/n noticed the woman had on simple winged eye liner and mascara.

Maybe Y/n was staring a bit longer than she thought because the woman started fidgeting with her hands nervously after she got in line behind her, and she quickly turned her head back around, not wanting to seem rude. But that sweater was just so cute!

Y/n turns her head again, and the woman quickly averts her eyes to the floor. "I really like your sweater! Where'd you get it?!" Y/n asks with a soft smile. The woman looks up hesitantly, almost looking at Y/n in confusion. "I-I don't remember, I-Im sorry" the woman says, obviously anxious.

Y/n gives her a small smile. "Oh, that's okay! It's just so pretty!" Y/n says. The woman looks at her, her gaze softening. Could it be that someone was actually complimenting her? Well, her sweater, but this girl didn't seem to be mocking her. "Oh um thank you" the woman says with a blush, making Y/n smile.

The line moves a little more. "I'm Y/n, by the way!" She says, once again turning her head to the woman. "Hyun-ju. I-Im Hyun-ju." The woman says back in a whisper. "That's a pretty name, a pretty name and a pretty sweater, I'm jealous!" Y/n says, finally hlgetting a smile from the woman.

"I can take who's next!" The cashier says, making Y/n realise it was her turn in line. "Oh, I'm sorry!" Y/n says, starting to order her little sweet treat. "That's all! Thank you!" She says. "Alright, that'll be 5.11 w-" before the cashier could finish her sentence, Hyun-ju steps up from behind Y/n and hands the money to her. Making Y/n look up at her.

"You don't have to do that!" Y/n says, not expecting this stranger to be so nice! In return, Hyun-ju just gives her a soft smile, earning a scoff from someone behind them in line. Ytn turns to see an older man looking at them in what seems to be disgust, making Y/n's eyebrows furrow.

Hyun-ju also seems to notice the man and becomes more tense. "It's no problem," she says softly to Y/n. Hyun-ju looks down at her so softly. It makes Y/n that this woman wasn't used to receiving any sort of compliment.

The man checks his watch behind them. "How long is this going to take? Huh? Just because you can't decide your gender doesn't mean the rest of us have to suffer you choosing a damn pastry!" He says with a scowl. Y/n looks at him in shock at his audacity. It's been a long week, and this assho- this man, she corrects herself, doesn't seem to understand patience or respect for that matter.

Y/n looks to Hyun-ju, noticing her fallen expression and her slightly teary eyes. She turns back to the man with a rare glare. "What'd you say?" She asks the man softly, making him roll his eyes, almost repeating himself before Y/n inturupts him. "Oh, I'm sorry that was rhetorical. Though, you probably don't know what that means, considering you don't know what patience is. Does being an asshole come naturally, or is that just a special talent?" She asks the man, making his jaw slightly drop. "You can't speak to me like th-" she inturupts again. "Why not? You clearly don't think before you speak to other people. I've had a real shit week, mister, and people like you don't make it any better." She says with a hint of bitterness.

"Look at her," she says, hinting towards Hyun-ju. "What did she do to you to deserve such disrespect? Hmm? Just because old fucks like you can't fathom sharing the earth with people who don't look or act like you does not give you the right to judge or comment." Y/n says, getting a little fed up. "So I suggest you get that stick out of your ass and start acting like a gentleman before I do it for you!" She somewhat shouts that last part, making the man's face pale slightly.

Once Y/n gets that off her chest, she turns back around, seeing Hyun-ju and the cashier looking at her. She blushes, clearing her throat. "Sorry, I guess I'm just a little hungry." She says, earning a chuckle from the cashier. Hyun-ju is looking at her a bit differently, though. "I'm sorry, Hyun-ju, I didn't mean to embarrass you," she says softly, making Hyun-ju shake her head. "You didn't." The woman says to Y/n.

After both Y/n and Hyun-ju get their orders, Y/n turns back to the man. "I suggest the chocolate mousse pastry. It'll help sweeten you up!" She says with a giggle and walks towards a table, sitting down with her treat, but before she can take a bite, she looks up to see Hyun-ju standing there. "I'm sorry, m-may I sit with you?" The tall woman asks, making Y/n smile.

"Of course, please." Y/n gestures to the chair in front of her. Hyun-ju sits with her plate of what looks to be mochi. "Oh, I love the green tea mochi!" She says to Hyun-ju, making the woman smile. "It's one of my favorites. What's that?" She asks Y/n, looking at her plate. Y/n gasps. "This is perfection! It's a chocolate mousse pastry, I'm not really sure how to pronounce the name, but it's so good! Do you wanna try it?!" She asks Hyun-ju with excitement. Hyun-ju blushes. "I-I don't have a fork," She says, making Y/n giggle.

"Just take a bite, silly! You have a pretty smile, so I trust you!" Oh, she had Hyun-ju as red as a tomato. "O-Okay" Hyun-ju takes a bite. "It's good." Kaley giggles again. "It's the best thing on the menu! But good is a good word, I guess." they both laugh.

Hyun-ju fiddles with her hands. "T-Thank you, for earlier, I mean. I usually just ignore those kinds of things," She says softly. Y/n frowns. "You don't have to thank me, Hyun-ju. You're so pretty. Please don't listen to people like that" She says to the woman, which leads to them talking for a while, not about the mean comments but about each other, their likes and dislikes, just getting to know each other.

Over the next few weeks, Y/n and Hyun-ju become friends, mostly meeting up at the bakery for a treat, sometimes texting, just a casual friendship........at least that's what it is to Y/n.

Hyun-ju had never been treated this way in all of her life. The closest she's ever come to it was with Young-Mi. After she lost Young-Mi in the games, she never thought she would find someone who would accept her, but Y/n was different. Y/n was sweet, kind, and beautiful. Y/n was taking up all the space in Hyun-ju's mind. Not in a normal crush type of way either...Hyun-ju wanted Y/n for herself. And she decided...that should would have Y/n all to herself, she knew where the girl lived after all.

Y/n had just finished a 12-hour shift at the hospital, and she was exhausted. She looked forward to taking a hot bath and going to sleep!

She tiredly unlocked her front door to her little home. It was well past midnight, so it was dark but quiet. She closes her door, putting the keys in the bowl, taking her shoes off, stretching. She was so glad to be home......

What's that smell? Y/n thinks to herself. She quickly walks to her kitchen and pales immediately. Someone was in her home... they had something cooking... she didn't see them sneak up behind her, a sharp prick to her neck and a muffled voice behind her, she was unable to make out what the voice had said and she fell back into their arms, unconscious.

Y/n comes to with a whimper. She reaches up to rub at her head but can't... she looks down, her vision blurry, but she knew... her hands were bound. And she appeared to be in a baby pink dress...she didnt own a baby pink dress. She could feel a cloth tied on her head...a gag. She quickly and scaredly tries to get her hands free, only to be met with soft shushing.

"Shhhh shhh shhh, it's okay." Someone says. That makes Y/n's eyebrows furrow...she knows that voice. She looks up, and sees her friend. Hyun-ju. Y/n whimpers in confusion. What was happening?

"Shhhhh, I promise it's okay, sweet girl," Hyun-ju says, reaching over and caressing Y/n's cheek. "I'm so sorry I had to do this, I-I...I made you your favorite dish! I even put extra cheese in it, just how you like!" Hyun-ju says nervously, walking to the oven and getting out the pan. "I also made bread to go with it, a-and I went to the market to get a nice wine!" She says, trying to cheer the scared girl up.

Y/n looks at her pleadingly, and Hyun-ju melts. Coming to kneel in front of the trembling girl. "I-I know you're probably scared right now, I understand Y/n, I'm so sorry I had to do this, but I promise I'll explain everything, okay?" She says softly, trying to appear non-threatening. Y/n hesitantly nods, and Hyun-ju smiles.

Hyun-ju reaches up but hesitates. "Please don't scream, okay? I don't want to have to gag you again, sweet girl." She tells Y/n, making the girl nod in response. Hyun-ju gently slides the gag down.

"H-Hyun-ju? W-whats happening? W-what are y-you doing?" Y/n asks scaredly. Hyun-ju gives her the softest look she's ever seen. "Why don't we dig in first? Hmm? I know you love pasta." Hyun-ju says softly.

"H-How can I eat? M-My hands are tied. " Y/n tries. "I'll feed you," Hyun-ju says, and Y/n pales. "We'll have to let it cool. It's still hot from the oven. How about some wine in the meantime? I got red, but if you prefer white, I brought that just In case- Oh honey, don't cry, " She says, reaching over and gently wiping Y/n's tears away. "Your mascara will bleed," Hyun-ju whispers, caressing just under Y/n's eye.

"D-Did you undress me?" Y/n asks scaredly. Hyun-ju looks down a bit. "I did. But I only put on the dress, I didn't touch or look, I promise, I'd never do that, I'd never hurt you." She says. "And you look......so beautiful, Y/n. I saw that dress at a small boutique, and I knew you'd look just breathtaking in it." Hyun-ju says in awe.

Hyun-ju goes over to the counter, grabbing the red wine. "Is red okay? Or do you prefer white?" Y/n doesn't answer, to focused on the fact that her so-called friend had drugged her and changed her and now had her tied up in her own damn kitchen.

"Y/n?" Hyun-ju says, snapping Y/n from her thoughts. Hyun-ju gives her a smile. "Do you prefer red or white?" Y/n looks down. "Red," She whispers, though Hyun-ju still hears her.

Hyun-ju smiles as she sets down both glasses on the table. She brings one up to Y/n's mouth, but Y/n turns her head away. "How do I know you didn't put-?" Before she can finish, Hyun-ju takes a sip from Y/n's glass. When she swallows, she gives Y/n a soft look once again. "I would never. That drug was a one time thing, I promise, sweet girl."

She holds the glass back up to Y/n's lips, and this time, Y/n takes a sip. Oh, it was good, like really good. Like rich people wine. "Good?" Hyun-ju asks as she sets Y/n's glass down. Y/n nods in return.

"Why are you doing this, Hyun-ju?" Y/n finally asks. Hyun-ju sits across from her, fiddling with her hands. "You're so sweet, Y/n. I've never met someone like you, someone who stands up for people like me, someone who understands me, who compliments me. I-I know that doesn't mean you like me in that sense, I'm not delusional. " she laughs sadly. "But I have grown to love you, Y/n. I know it's only been a short time, but I do love you. You have my heart."

What. The. Fuck. Y/n says in her head. This is some Joe Goldberg type of shit. Jesus Fucking Christ. "H-Hyun-ju..." Y/n says nervously. "Shhhh shhh, I know, it's okay. I just need to explain that's all, I promise I won't hurt you. I know what you must be thinking, but I promise it's not like that." Hyun-ju says pleadingly.

"I used to know someone, w-who was kind of like you, her name was Young-Mi." Hyun-ju says with a sad smile. "W-Was?" Y/n says shakily. "She was killed i-in a game," Hyun-ju says, tearing up. "A game? The fuck? What game?" Y/n asks. "Y/n... I know this won't sound real. It'll make me sound even more crazy than you already think I am... but I was kidnapped, and I had to play 6 games in order to leave."

Y/n just looks at her, kind of like you'd look at someone with two heads. "I know. I know. But it's true. At first, I was willing, because I would win money. The first game was red light, green light. Then, six legs, then m-mingle." She says, a tear falling at the last one. "The fourth game was Jack and Jill, then the monkey bars, and then the last game was human chess."

"Young-Mi died during mingle." Hyun-ju says, making Y/n shrink into herself a bit. "She was so shy, so sweet, s-she was my responsibility, and I failed her. But that won't happen this time. This time will be different. I won't let anything happen to you." Y/n flinches back as Hyun-ju caresses her cheek once more. "Please don't be scared, Y/n, I promise, nothing bad will happen to you. I love you."

"Y-You're fucking crazy." Y/n whispers. Hyun-ju's lip quivers. "P-Please don't say that." Y/n's eyes widen as Hyun-ju picked up a bag...the same bag she would bring to the bakery. Hyun-ju opens it, and it's filled to the brim with money. "I was awarded 45.6 billion won. But I had to watch everyone die." Hyun-ju says sadly. "But not you. I'll never let anything hurt you, sweet girl. This time will be different." She says as she gets up and scoops some pasta onto a plate.

SOOOO???? WHAT DID WE THINK?! I def need some practice, but I think it turned out pretty good?! This took me foreverrrr😭

#cho hyun ju x reader #hyun ju x reader #cho hyunju #hyun ju #yandere #squid game #squid game 2

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poeghoul · 1 year ago

Text

hard times

in which harry is grumpy and mean and has a scary job

word count: 3,315 warnings: angst, semi-mafia!harry, a single mention of drugs, semi-gun violence, harassment. do not read if opposed to any of the topics mentioned. authors note: i haven’t written in years so this may be bad. inspired by "western nights" by ethel cain.

Harry met Niall at a small diner called The Vinyl booth at 9:37pm, an oddly specific time Niall gave to him, Harry thought. Niall had been interested in forming a connection with Harry, seeing as he’s the biggest drug supplier in all of northern California. Niall loved The Vinyl Booth; he loved taking his girls there every other Sunday after church. It was a warm, cozy diner, with checkered flooring and a jukebox that only worked if you kicked it in the right spot.

“Harry!” Niall exclaimed, excited to finally be meeting with him after hearing about him for so long. Harry gave him a curt nod as Niall put his hand out for him. Harry took his and grunted as Niall brought him in for a weird semi hug that men do. “Good to finally meet ya,” Niall smiled and held the door open for him, a little bell attached to the handle sounded. Harry walked in first as Niall followed behind and stood while they waited for someone to seat them.

“Niall? What are you doing here so late?” A girl approached the two men, smiling at Niall before grabbing two menus.

“Y/n!” Niall exclaimed, returning an even bigger smile than she had initially sent him, “just needed a little late night treat.”

“Of course you did, come on,” she led the two to a corner booth, “I’ll be back with some coffee.” She smiled at the two and Harry noticed she hadn’t greeted him or even made eye contact with him once, which infuriated him; he was used to everyone showing him the respect he swears he deserves.

She walked back with two small gray ceramic mugs in her hands before turning again to get the coffee pot (Harry assumed they hadn’t brewed a fresh batch in some hours, disgusting him even more than he already was with the sticky menu he was holding). She went to pour some into Nialls mug before Harry decided to speak up.

“When was that brewed?” Y/n looked up as she stopped pouring the coffee.

“Um,” she paused, trying to remember when she last even touched the pot, “maybe around 5,” she shrugged, phrasing it more as a question than a statement.

Harry scoffed, “and you expect us to be okay with drinking that?” he practically shouted at the girl; she was taken aback, furrowing her brows and cocking her head to the side. “Get him a new mug and brew a fresh batch, we’re not drinking coffee that’s been sitting out for nearly five hours.” he spat. Niall went to speak up and Harry shot him the deadliest glare the man had ever seen, effectively shutting Niall up.

“I’ll get on it,” she murmured as she bowed her head, picked up Nialls mug and spun on her heel, heading towards the sink to dump out the hour's old coffee.

“You didn’t have to shout at her, Harry,” Niall scolded the man like he was a four year old. Harry just looked at him and shook his head, going to speak up before deciding against it.

The bell on the door rang. It was one of his security guards; he had told both (one of them planning on coming in three before 10pm, the time they closed) to observe the interaction between the two men; one to scope out Niall, and two to make sure Harry made it out alive. With what Harry did, not making it out of the diner was an option. The burly man sat down in a booth facing Harry directly.

Y/n was at the coffee pot, pouring in new coffee grinds and pressing at the brewing options, though there couldn’t have been more than one option with how old the machine was. She looked up as the man sat down, a puzzled look taking over her features; Harry couldn’t stop staring.

Y/n approached him, “Hi,” she smiled at him, “I’m y/n I’ll be taking care of you today, can I start you off with some coffee? I’m brewing some right now so it’ll be the freshest coffee of your life,” she joked with him, purposefully being loud enough for Harry to hear; he just narrowed his eyes at her and, instead of gazing at her, he began glaring. The man just nodded. She gave a half smile before walking back to where the two men were sat, pulling out a small notepad and pen from her apron. “Oki doki, Niall I know what you want already,” she smiled at him, a dimple forming in her cheek. She looked at Harry, “how about you? Have enough time to look the menu over?” He hadn’t even opened it.

“No,” he said simply. Her smile faded, a puzzled look taking over her features.

“Oh, well, do you have any questions?” She tucked her pen and notepad into a small pocket on the black apron that was folded and tied around her waist.

“No,” he replied, a bitter tone, “I would like some fresh coffee though, if you’re capable,” he tried his hardest to contain his smirk.

If y/n didn’t care about her job, she’d bark at him. If y/n didn’t care about the owners and how close she had gotten to them, she would’ve taken her pen from her apron and jammed it in his hand with all her might. And if y/n had the guts to either of those, she would. She cares, though, far too much to do either of those; so instead, she smiled and prayed that her eye wouldn’t start twitching.

“Of course, sir,” she turned and rolled her eyes, mimicking him under her breath. Harry heard her, but didn’t say anything. She grabbed another mug and the coffee pot, almost burning her knuckles in the process. She placed Nialls mug before him and poured into his new one, making sure to leave room for creamer. “Room for cream?” She made eye contact with Harry. He shook his head, humming a ‘no’. She tried her best to fill it to where it would spill on him if he picked it up too quickly, and made her way to the only other patron in the small diner. The bell on the door rang again, but it wasn’t who Harry was expecting.

Y/n looked up at the character who walked into and watched as he walked past her and sat at the counter. Nobody ever came in this late, three of them looked scary and they were all men. She felt her heart skip some beats in the worst way. Thankfully, two of the cooks were here, but they were already upset with her for seating guests twenty something minutes before closing.

She walked behind the counter, setting the pot down on the heater, and walked to the man at the counter. She noticed his red ringed, dark brown eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n,” she started her script, “I’ll be taking care of you tonight, what can I get ya started with?” She grabbed her notepad and pen, again, hoping he knew what he wanted to eat so she’d have an excuse to go into the back, wanting to be with the men she’d known for some time, rather than three suspicious men and Niall (who, according to her, was far too gentle to hurt a fly).

He smiled at her; it made her stomach curl. “Orange juice, please, and a mixed cheese omelette.” She scribbled in her notepad, muttering a ‘got it’ before scrambling to the back to put the order in.

“So,” Niall began, causing Harry to finally look away from the door the girl had basically run through. “I know you didn’t agree to meeting me here for the chorizo and eggs plate,” he joked at Harry. He gave a curt nod. Niall cleared his throat. “I know you have a busy schedule, so I’ll get right to it,” the bell on the door sounded again. Three minutes before closing, right on time. His other bodyguard walked past the two and sat at another end of the counter. Y/n peaked her head through the swinging door, looking around before setting her eyes on the last patron to walk in. She sighed before walking out and giving him her whole spiel.

“Coffee, please,” the man smiled at her. She was grateful for someone, other than Niall, to show her some kindness in a non creepy way. She turned to grab another mug and the pot of coffee and made her way back to him.

“Long night?” she asked him while pouring into his mug. He nodded and smiled at her, offering her a thank you. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest.

Niall continued to speak to him, though Harry tuned him out, granting him responses in the form of grunts. He watched the girl bring out the orange juice for the boy at the counter before going into the back and returning with a bowl of prepackaged creamers. “Sorry, Niall, the creamers completely slipped my mind.”

“Not a big deal, y/n, I knew you’d get around to it,” he reached into the bowl, grabbing a package and ripping it open to pour into his coffee. He did that four more times, turning the near black brown to a light, almost white shade.

She looked at Harry, his eyes already on her, “finally decided?” he shook his head. She just stared, no emotion on her face.

“Just get him the same thing as me, please” Niall awkwardly cut in. Y/n’s gaze softened, looking at him and smiled, before nodding and walking off. Harry, still, couldn’t stop staring; watching how she walked and moved and how she reacted to every word said to her. He also noticed how the boy at the counter did the same. Niall continued to talk at him about a deal he was wishing to make. Something about expanding Harry’s territory and getting a small cut. From what Harry heard, it wasn’t a bad proposal.

+++

“Thanks, again, for meeting with me, Harry” Niall shook his hand, a beaming smile plastered on his face. Harry offered him a pursed smile in return. “Get home safe.” Harry nodded, watching as Niall turned to walk to his car.

Harry turned to his, getting in the backseat, greeted by his bodyguard, Daniel, who’d entered the restaurant earlier. They sat in silence as they waited for the final of the two men, Jax, to return to the car. Harry had sent him a message halfway through their meal, asking (more like demanding) him to stay in the diner until the skeptical character had left; he left a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth and he just wanted to ensure the safety of the girl he was fascinated by.

He waited. And waited. Bit at his nails, ran his hands through his hair, groaned many times and waited even more.

Time seemed to go by so slowly. He stared into the window, watching the three of them closely. His left leg was bouncing up and down, an unfamiliar sense of anxiety coursing through him. Huffing through his nose, he ran his hand through his hair. He hated how he was feeling, and judging by her body language, she was feeling similarly.

Y/n stood with the coffee pot, having had to make another batch as the group of men continued to order more and more cups throughout the night, waiting for the two men to leave so she could crawl into bed. She had been here close to eleven hours now, and was growing anxious being practically trapped in a room with two strange men she had never seen, especially since the two cooks had left for the night (she was too scared to ask them to stay, not wanting to be a bother but she desperately regrets that now).

The bigger man of the two sat glaring at the smaller one, watching his every move. Y/n could tell he was growing uncomfortable with harsh eyes on him at all times; it made her feel safer, though.

The small one offered her a small smile, asking for the check silently. She felt a wave of relief to soon have him out of her hair. She couldn’t wait to leave; she had already wiped down all the tables, swept, asked the two men if they’d be paying cash or card, and when they both replied with card, she closed out the cash drawer on the register. She was eager, practically vibrating. Nothing planned for the night, she just couldn’t wait to step outside into the fresh air, feeling suffocated in the small space of the diner.

She handed the small receipt to him and he immediately offered her his card, making sure to graze her hand with his. She noted how cold and pale it was. A small ‘thank you’ before a pursed smile graced her features. She ran his card through the machine, printed a receipt and handed the two over. He smiled at her, leaving a ten on the counter before walking out.

Outside, Harry noted the movement inside the diner, watching the weird man walk out of the restaurant and around the corner to where, he assumed, was a back alley. Jax walked out shortly after, y/n walking to the door behind him to lock it before heading to the back, but he hesitated to leave, still. The lights shut off shortly after. He couldn’t make out much more.

The door opened and, though he could barely see her silhouette, he could tell she was locking the door behind her. She stood in front of the diner, typing away at her phone. He groaned at how oblivious she was to her surroundings. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a head peeking around a corner. He unlocked his door, prepared to jump to her defense at any given moment. The man who peeked around the corner fully emerged and walked up behind y/n, his hands in the pockets of his oversized jacket. He said something to her, Harry couldn’t hear what, and she practically jumped out of her skin. She turned around with wide eyes and slipped her phone in her back pocket.

“Oh,” she gasped, “hey, did you leave anything inside?”

He grinned at her, “no, actually was just wondering what you were up to after this.” she gulped.

“Um,” she tried to think of something, anything, to lie about, but blanked. “I’m just, uh, gonna hang out with my friends,” she rushed out. His grin turned into a smirk.

“You sure?” She nodded. His smirk vanished. “You’re lying.” she shook her head, a small ‘I’m not’ escaping her lips. “Yes, you are,” he stepped closer to her, “I hate liars.”

“I’m not lying,” she backed up, her breathing picking up. He stepped even closer.

“Now you’re lying again,” he glared down at her, “must I teach you what happens to liars?” Her eyes began to well with tears. A car door slammed. A gun pressed against the boy's temple. His eyes widened.

“Touch her and I’ll blow your fucking head off,” Harry snarled, pressing the gun even harder against him.

“I-I wasn’t, I swear, I swear,” he barely made out. Tears began pouring out of y/n’s eyes.

“Okay, so then tell me what you were gonna do, hm,” with his free hand, Harry grabbed y/n, pulling her behind him. She hid her face in his back and gripped his shirt in both hands, trying to focus on controlling her breathing.

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear,” he cried out.

“You swear, hm?” he let out a breathy laugh, “Why’d you wait for her, hm? Why’d you hide back there?” The boy’s mouth just opened and closed; Harry held back a laugh. “Say something, don’t be shy. You weren’t a minute ago.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right now if you let me, I swear, I promise!” He began to sob.

Harry just pressed harder, “that’s not what I asked, though, is it?” The boy shook his head as best as he could, “then answer my questions.”

“I just, I wanted to see her.”

Harry laughed, “so you wanted to see her, and you couldn't have done it in a normal manner? Couldn’t have asked to hang out rather than hiding in a fucking alley waiting for her when you knew she’d be most vulnerable, fucking scum,” he spat out, inching his face closer to his.

He sobbed, “I’m so sorry.”

Harry moved the gun from his temple, but not before he pressed a little bit harder. “Get in the car,” he muttered, keeping the gun pointed at him and ushering y/n with his back towards the backseat of a black Range Rover. She opened the door and jumped in before Harry did the same. He put the gun in his holster, secured under his jacket. He looked to y/n, who was shaking in the middle seat. “You okay?” She nodded, her face down, staring at her fingers picking at a loose thread on her jeans. “I’m sorry,” Harry apologized to her, anger surged through his veins and he wished he could get out and have the opportunity to pull the trigger pointed to the back of the boy's head. The car started and pulled out of the parking lot. “We’ll take you home, I’ll send someone to stay in the general area for your safety,” she looked up at him with watery eyes.

“Okay.”

“Can you give me an address, please,” he handed the phone to her, with trembling hands she took it and typed out her address. It was a six minute walk. “How were you planning to get home?” she handed back the phone.

“I walk.”

“For every shift?” she nodded. “I don’t like that,” he admitted.

“It’s only, like, five minutes,” she shrugged, still not making eye contact.

“Still don’t like it,” he ran his hands through his hair, sighing. She picked at her nails, chewing on her bottom lip.

The drive was short, two right turns and they arrived at her apartment complex. Harry opened the door and helped her out, following her up the stairs, standing close behind her as she unlocked the door.

“It’s a little messy, sorry,” she opened the door and led him in. He stood in the entryway, taking in the details of the decorations that filled the small space (it was a small studio apartment, big enough for Y/n, but far too small for Harry). Her bed wasn’t made, with halloween sheets and decorative pillows on the floor next to the bed, and the only chair in the apartment was covered in laundry.

“It��s not bad,” he looked down at her while she gazed at him. Harry loved the way she looked at him and hated that he loved it.

“Thank you for taking me home and ya know,” she smiled at him. He nodded.

“I’ll send someone to take you to work and bring you home for the next few days, need to make sure you’re safe,” he took a deep breath in, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching up to graze her cheek, resting it as he caressed the soft skin with the pad of his thumb. He looked down at her, a glint in his eyes she couldn’t make out. His gaze shifted to her lips, his hand stilled and she tilted her head up in the slightest.

His expression changed, he removed his hand, and he stepped back. “You’ll know when they’re here. Goodnight,” and with that, he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Her cheek felt cold.

She missed his touch.

And that would be all she thought about for the rest of the night.

troubles always gonna find you baby, but so will i.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fics #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harry one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry #harry styles fiction #Ethel cain

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admirationandromantics · 2 months ago

Text

Chocolates

Fucking hell, the way I had to take several breaks from this. Most intense writing I think I've done. Anyway, this was also a request (plus a little creative freedom from me), so hope you like it. Also think this is kinda intense, so I'll have warnings. Everyone should already know my blog is 18++ also.

Warnings: drugging (kinda), fingering, penetration, p in v, unprotected, pleading, teasing, edging, heavy buildup, overstimulation (fr), blowjob.

I think that's it, at least I hope. Don't stop sending requests! I promise, I see them, but it takes some time to write these things <3

Word count: 3,6k (Unedited)

I put the warm drinks on the table, taking the controller and turning on the tv. Josh and I were going to have a movie night, the last get-together before christmas. Sadly, everyone else left early to go home, and the only ones still on campus were us. I didn’t mind though, usually enjoying his company the most. Except for when he jumps me or pranks me, that little shit. The little love I have for him immediately fades, and I feel nothing but contempt for at least five minutes. His warm behaviour usually fixes my temper.

“What do you want to watch?” I shout to the kitchen, scrolling though several.

“A Christmas one!”

I move to the Christmas category, unsure about what to pick. I could put on a sappy romance, a scary one or something like that. I decide to take the romantic one. He’ll hate it, considering his specific taste in movies. I turn it on, pausing while waiting for him to join me on the couch.

“And here we are” he exclaims, walking over and putting a bowl of candy in front of us. It’s filled with a variety, chocolate, gummies, and sour jellies. I am quick to grab one on the top, putting it in my mouth. The sourness gets to me, and I have to fight a grimace from appearing.

“What are we watching?” he sits down beside me, arm going over the back of the couch.

“Something great” I smile, unpausing it and letting it roll. The movie name appears, and he sighs.

“Really? This crap?”

“Shut up Washington, you could’ve picked it you were here”

“I was in the other room!”

“Shhh, pay attention” I put my finger in front of his lips, eyes still plastered on the screen. This is a great movie after all. A sudden sharpness is felt on my hand, and I jolt at the sensation. To my left, Josh bit my finger, his tongue gracing over it slightly. I pull it away, drying it on his sweater.

“You’re disgusting” He only laughs, that playful smile on his lips.

“Not as disgusting as this movie’s gonna be” I roll my eyes at his remark.

“Have you seen it before?”

“No”

My mouth opens wide in surprise. How dare he judge before even having seen it. I shake my head, looking back on the screen and urging him to do the same. I take the bowl of candy, placing it on his lap for easy access, without having the responsibility of keeping it steady.

During the film, I occasionally look over at him, and he’s always paying attention to it. He likes it, I know. I can’t help the smile that creeps on my face. I move closer, head resting on his chest as we continue watching.

“Chocolate?” he asks, one arm going around my body. I open my mouth in response, and he takes one out of the bowl, putting it in my mouth. This is not unusual for us, normally being close and touchy. I guess that’s the type of person he is. Maybe it grounds him, or makes him feel secure. I suck and bite, swallowing the piece of candy not long after. It tastes weird, and I take a normal gummy to get rid of the flavour.

As we keep going, he often feeds me small pieces of chocolate, and I let him. I know he brought it, and it was some expensive shit he bought a while ago. I don’t want to be ungrateful, so I keep swallowing them.

Twenty minutes go by, and I feel my body heating up, chest heaving a bit. I look around, wondering what happened to the temperature.

“You good?” he asks, looking over at me.

“Um, yeah. Is it hot in here?”

“No, we opened the windows before the movie”

I nod in response, trying to ignore the warm feelings creeping through my body. Another ten minutes go by, and I feel crazy. I refuse to believe that a small room with an open window can be this warm in the middle of winter. Do I have a fever? Am I sick?

I suddenly feel very aware of his hand on my arm. Thumb rubbing regularly up and down. A shiver runs through me, thinking about the other things his finger might do. This is not an unusual thought, but I’ve never gotten so worked up so quickly from it. My heat aches for stimulation, and I press my legs together instinctively. Don’t start rubbing, don’t start rubbing. You’re literally laying on top of him for goodness sake, I keep chanting to myself. My breath quickens, and I try to stabilise it, now wanting him to see me like this. Why am I getting so incredibly worked up?

His hand suddenly grabs my arm hard, letting go as quickly as he squeezed. I let out an uncontrollable gasp, my hand racing to my mouth to stop any other sounds from coming out.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine”

“You got a sore spot here or something? So sorry” he apologies, arm going further down, stopping on my waist. Shit, I should've kept my mouth shut. Every part of me feels like a sore spot, each caress and small movement making me leak. God, there was definitely going to be water damage on the sofa if he kept touching me.

The worst part is that he isn’t even touching me inappropriately, hand just resting on the side of my waist. His fingers trace the hem of my shirt, sliding a little under it, touching my bare skin. He’s caressing me, skin to skin. God how I want him to continue.

This is not normal. Feeling these feelings so intensely as I am right now. How did it come to this? Have I been touch-deprived, sex-starved? I pleasure myself regularly, so I don’t know why this sudden wave has come over me. I can only think of one thing to do.

“I-I have to go to the bathroom” I whisper, feeling cripplingly erotic and needy. It feels like a thirst I’m unable to clench, like I’m about to come at any given moment. I try to stand up, feeling my legs almost give out. This was not gonna be easy. I walk, but am stopped by a hand holding mine.

“The movie is almost over, can’t you wait a bit?” he smiles. It’s kind of guilty, but I don’t react to it. Instead wondering how his lips feel on my-

“Okay, sure”

I sit back down, now beside him and not on top. Maybe this’ll help. Before I’m able to calm down, his hand moves under my thigh, dragging my legs over him, causing my back to hit the couch. Fuck. I’ve never been so turned on in my life, imagining him slamming me down, slowly moving from my legs and up.

His hand graces up and down my thigh in a rhythmic motion, each slide giving me goosebumps and getting me wetter. I kill a couple of whimpers trying to escape my mouth, biting my lips to stop a loud gasp.

I haven’t paid attention to the movie, my eyes are either on him, imagining filthy things, or closed, trying to regulate my breathing and sounds. He keeps eating from the bowl, but never the chocolate, only the other candies. He loves chocolate, why isn’t he eating? Has he done something to it? Like that time I tasted a clump of cayenne pepper in my popcorn.

“Eat the chocolate” I order him, and his face shifts to me. He smirks, knowing that I’ve figured something out.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve done something to it”

“No I haven’t”

“If you haven’t, then eat it”

He still keeps his smirk intact, holding eye contact while taking a piece and putting it in his mouth. I feel confusion wash over me, adding another feeling to the bothering emotional mess I am right now. If he ate it, he didn’t do anything to it.

“There you go, would you like me to eat another one princess?” he teases, hand moving from the outside of my thigh to between them, making me smack them shut on him. The nickname, the eye contact, smirk, teasing and his movements. My hand flies to my mouth, looking away as I try to contain my sounds.

“Struggling a bit?”

I look over at him again. He knows what he’s done, and I know it too. His teasing nature and playful expression. He’s loving this.

“You fucking -ahh!” his hand moves lower, fingertips grabbing my flesh, leading me to stop mid sentence.

“Careful, you seem a bit worked up”

“No shit Josh!” I yell, becoming a hot mess. He laughs in response, taking another chocolate and putting it in his mouth, tongue going a little out of his mouth to catch the thin slice.

“What the hell Josh!”

“What?” he acts innocent, trying to hold his laugh.

“Why did you do this to me, I thought I was going crazy”

“Aren’t you usually?”

“Josh!”

“Okay, okay, just wanted to see if they worked and didn’t want to placebo myself, so I had to try another method”

“And that was me?”

“Damn right”

“Jesus Christ”

He starts laughing, fingers still gracing up and down my legs, making me bite my lips. No way this man was gonna get any more satisfaction out of me.

“It was worth it”

“Worth it?”

“Seeing you squirming under me the whole time, struggling to keep quiet. Every little touch, even the ones I didn’t mean to give gave such grand reactions”

“God I hate you”

“Do you really?”

“Ye- fuck!” his hand moves over to my heat, tender touches in a teasing manner. My hips automatically jolt, pulling myself closer to him.

“Fucking hell, you’re desperate for me”

“Don’t you have anything to wear off the effects of this thing?” I plead, my body turning to putty from his touches.

“I mean, no, we could fuck it out but-”

“Yes do that”

His expression changes to surprise as I keep squirming, desperate for some type of release or friction. I could literally come from a single touch right now, so close to the edge.

“Nah” he shrugs, throwing my legs off him and taking another piece of chocolate.

“What?”

“You’re desperate, you don’t know what you want”

“I swear to god Josh, if you don’t-”

“What are you gonna do? Your body is so tensed up right now that you can barely take a step” he crosses his arms, biting his lip slightly.

“Josh, please”

“No”

“Fucking hell” I gasp, throwing my head back to contain myself. He looks over at my pathetic mess of a girl.

“I mean, I guess it would be different if you did it with someone you’ve actually wanted for some time”

He knows something, he must know something. Why else would he pine me like this, trying to get a confession out of me. I have to give out, my body needy and pining. I sit up, placing myself on his lap so we’re face to face. He only smirks in response. Of course he knows, I haven’t exactly tried to hide my feelings.

“What?”

“You know what” I state, closing the distance and kissing him. He returns it, hands going to my upper thighs, getting me to grind on his already hard boner. His face pulls away, already a breathing mess.

“I want you to tell me, tell me you love me”

I lean forwards, barely touching our lips.

“I love you Josh”

His hand moves to the back of my neck, pulling me into him in a sloppy kiss. He gets rougher, teeth biting down on my lower lip. My arms go around him, tugging at his sweater from behind. He leans forward, letting me pull it off and throw it on the floor. He does the same to me, not even looking at my bra before clasping it off as well. He’s not in his right mind, eyes glossy and lustful. Is this how I’ve been looking the entire evening? He goes straight for the kill, kissing and biting my collar and chest, taking my boob and leaving dark marks all over.

None of us can control the sounds we make, the room filling up with groans, whimpers and moans. He tries to take my pants off, and I sit up so they make it down to my knees. I pull them off the rest of the way, leaving them with our tops. His hand goes down to my heat, feeling the soaked panties.

“Christ, you’re wet”

“I’ve been trying to tell you”

“Something has to be done then”

He moves the fabric to the side, fingers gracing my folds all the way up to my clit. My breath hitches, and I push myself against him. A small snicker leaves his lips as my head rests on his shoulders. My hips buckle, trying to take advantage of his fingers.

“I want to see you” he whispers in my ear, his other hand pushing me back down on his lap, face to face. He inserts two of his fingers, fascinated by my blushing mess of an expression and sounds. I start moving, trying to get more out of him, and he smirks at my attempt. My hand flies down to do it myself, but he’s too quick, grabbing my wrist and placing my hand on his shoulder. He loves this, having full control when I’m not even able to control myself. His fingers start pumping in and out, thumb rubbing my clit at the same time. How does he do it? How is he so good at this? The tightened knot in my stomach finally pulls, and I come all over him, only feeling ecstasy for a small moment before a new tension starts building up.

“Already ready for more? This is gonna be a long night”

“Shut up and do your thing Josh”

“Harsh words coming from you when you’re at my mercy”

“Wait for the chocolate to hit and let’s see how you feel then”

“Okay, okay, I’ll keep going” His fingers continue their attack, the other hand pushing my body against him, giving him access to my neck. He moves away the stray hairs, and starts kissing my collar. Wet and weak ones, some barely touching. I cry out as I come again, euphoria and dizziness overtaking me. I hold his shoulders firmly, needing to set my balance. He smirks against my skin, keeping his pace and technique, ready to get me going again.

My body is already tired, but the effects of the chocolate still rushes through my body, making me all hot and bothered again.

“Come on, you can do it one more time for me”

His words fuel me, making me wetter and desperate. I need him inside me, I need to feel him.

“Josh…” I whimper, his fingers working their magic, and stacking a third orgasm on me as I come. He laughs.

“This is actually awesome”

“You sound like a child” I say, breathless and sloppy.

“I’m just fascinated”

“God I hate you” I whimper, the tension already starting to build up again. How much of this substance did he give me?

“If this is hate then I’m loving it” he smirks, cheeks red and face hot. He’s starting to feel the effects, and I know it. I lower myself on him, pushing down and grinding. His head falls back as he groans, hands flying to my hips, guiding me. I look down, and start messing with his pants, unbuttoning it and gliding down the zipper. He’s hard, making a tent in his boxers. I grab him, earning a small whimper in reply.

“Cat got your tongue Joshy?” I tease, getting wetter by the way I treat him. Oh, how he was gonna get back. I jump off him, sitting down below the couch and pulling his pants down. I do the same with his boxers, leaving him naked in front of me. I take it in, seeing how beautiful he’s in the dim yellow light. My eyes fly over his toned stomach, each curvation being highlighted by the shine. He’s breathing heavily, heaving almost. I notice the slight twitch of his hand, fingers struggling to stop themselves. He wants to get off, and he’s trying not to.

I’m not going to be that mean, and I lean forward, grabbing hold of his dick, slowly jerking up and down. He falls back yet again, finally feeling the pleasure he’s been craving. My other hand goes to take off my underwear, sliding the fabric off my feet. I push myself forward, taking a long lick over his shaft, making him let out a choked moan. With my lips at his tip, I take him in, as much as possible. My hand still remains on the base of him, still moving. My head follows the movement, bopping myself up and down as the tip reaches the back of my throat.

I feel tears in the corners of my eyes, struggling not to fall. I can’t help the sounds coming out of me as I keep up the pace. His hands take hold of my head, forcing it up and down.

“Yes, yes, just like that” he moans, desperate and needy. I let him work my head, grabbing my hair harshly. My hand wanders to my heat, rubbing and stimulating the area. I look up, his eyes wild and lips wet. He starts twitching in my mouth, letting me know he’s nearing his edge. He stops mid-push, slowly dragging my head off him, making a loud pop-sound. I relax in his hands, feeling his thumb clean off my chin.

“Get up here”

I oblige, getting on top of him again and colliding. Our lips lock, tongues fret as we make out. He slowly moves us, leaning my back down on the sofa. My hands wander to the back of his neck pulling him closer. I’ve never wanted someone so close before, needing to feel him all over me, to touch me everywhere, cage me, lay on top of me, just melt into me. His hand grabs my jaw, tilting my face to the side as he leaves kisses down my neck and stomach. He hoists my legs upon his shoulders before taking a lick over my heat.

“Fuck”

He keeps going, sucking and stimulating my clit, making me come over his mouth. He doesn’t stop, fingers moving inside me, making me get off and keep the euphoric high I’m drunk on. I get dizzier as he continues, trying to milk me all dry. I come again, throwing my head back and crying out. Tears of pleasure and pain fall down my cheeks, breath hitching and desperate.

He moves over to me, letting me taste myself on his tongue. He looks satisfied, at least a little. Proud of himself and his accomplishments tonight. I stroke his hair, pushing it out of the way. He’s gorgeous. Breathless, sweaty, horny and beautiful.

“Are you okay?”

I smile, nodding in response. “I’ve never felt better”

He smiles, too tired to keep up his cocky persona. I feel his dick gracing my entrance, begging to be let in. I lean towards him, signalling for him to get into me, to fill me up. He does as told, slowly pushing himself in, my walls surrounding him. It goes easily because of our arousals, juices mixing and spilling. He gets all the way in, and I gasp at his size. He doesn’t waste time, moving quickly, going all the way out before slamming into me again. The window is still open, probably making the whole neighbourhood hear us. His hand moves to my clit, rubbing as he continues moving.

“Josh…”

“Yeah, I’m here”

“I’m gonna”

I cum again, body almost shutting down. I can’t move my arms or legs, the overstimulation and continuous cumming making me sore and exhausted. I tighten around him, not meaning to, and he moans my name. He leans over, kissing me and making us swallow each other's sounds. I come again, legs twitching and core tightening again. Pain and pleasure mix as they run through my spine and up to my head, coming out as yet another scream.

“You’re doing so well for me” he whispers, voice choked and tired. He was almost done, almost done getting off from being with me, in me. A last deep thrust seals it, and his head falls in the crook of my head as he comes and twitches.

We’re both breathing heavily, trying to calm our pulse. As the chocolade wears off, I sense how sore I am, how tired and destroyed my whole body is. At the same time, it’s filled with happiness. I’ve had sex with Josh Washington, my Josh, who loves me.

A kiss on my neck brings me back to reality, and I look down to see that he’s gained his strength back. That was fast.

“So, did you like the chocolate?”

“I’m gonna kill you”

“You can try, but that doesn’t stop the fact that you love me, and just came like… how many times?”

“Jesus Christ”

“That’s what I thought”

His hand moves to caress my stomach, and I suddenly feel really cold. The room is freezing, and I shuffle closer to him, stealing his warmth.

“Want to take a shower?”

“If I can walk” I smile, not really knowing how to get up.

“Luckily, I’ve got arms” he teases, standing up and taking hold of me.

“I’m still gonna kill you”

“Sure you are”

#until dawn #joshua washington #josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington x reader smut #josh washington smut #josh washington imagines #josh washington until dawn #joshua washington x reader smut #joshua washington smut #joshua washington x reader #Joshua Washington oneshot #until dawn smut #until dawn josh #josh until dawn #until dawn x reader #until dawn fanfiction #until dawn fanfics #until dawn imagines

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giuseppe-yuki · 5 months ago

Note

I just had a stupid thought, just imagine somwone maybe new at Mercedes was bitching at kimi and hia huge tiger girlfriend sitting behind them just waiting for them to finsih and everyone around them snickering

no thought is a stupid thought! i love to receive asks from readers :)

lord help the soul who thinks he’s “better” than kimi just because he’s older and has more “experience” in the field of racing.

kimi antonelli x tiger shapeshifter!gf

kimi nods, trying to be be polite as the man in front of him elaborates on his skill and practice on the sim brig.

“…since i was literally a baby,” the engineer points out, exaggeratedly gesturing with his arms. “that’s why i know for a fact that you should not be turning like that on turn 4- you should take the outside line.”

scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, kimi blinks at the man in confusedly. “um…okay.”

your boyfriend swivels around on his chair in the garage, trying to end the conversation. however, being too polite to just walk away, he has no choice but to sit there, enduring the ‘words of wisdom’ from this newly hired engineer that everybody knew gave out the most bullshit advice. several long-term engineers shoot him looks of pity at their desks after seeing him trapped in the impractical conversation.

that’s why he brightens up like the sun peeking out behind a cloud when you flounce into the garage in the following moments, pressing a kiss onto his cheek when you reach him.

“hi kimi,” you giggle, ruffling his curls with your hand. “working hard?”

he smiles at you, nodding. “yep! i’m designing mercedes’ next championship winning car,” he jokes.

you laugh, before a voice behind you speaks up. “do you mind? i was just giving him tips on how to drive better out there. it’s simple, really.”

whipping around, you come face to face with a rather young looking lad, who you suppose to be the infamous new-hire that everyone despises.

“oh, sorry,” you say, not feeling sorry at all. “did i cut you off from your conversation with kimi?”

“yeah,” the engineer says, with an air of confidence around him. “i was informing him on the many things he should do better on next time on track. i’ll have you know i have years of experience.”

the gall of this man, you think. that’s no way to talk to my boyfriend.

and when you thought the engineer could be even more repulsive, he opens his mouth yet again.

“by the way, i don’t know how you even got in the garage, but fans are supposed to stay in the paddock,” he sniffs, as if repulsed by the thought of a random kimi enthusiast in the mercedes garage.

even the nearby merc employees raise an eyebrow to the overly-cocky engineer’s comment. it was pretty much common knowledge of your position as kimi’s girlfriend in the paddock, showing up to nearly every event to support him. besides, you literally just gave your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek- a fan couldn’t have possibly done that.

your boyfriend jumps off of his seat, ready to defend you.

“hey! this is my-“ he begins, but you cut him off, squeezing his arm gently.

“really?” you gasp, eyes wide with faux surprise. “i am so sorry! i just wanted a signature from kimi- i had no idea!”

giving you a look of disgust, the engineer gestures behind him towards the exit. “yeah, yeah, dumb mistake, whatever,- just go that way, and make sure to read the signs next time.”

ignoring kimi’s look of surprise and the snickers of knowing engineers, you take your leave from the garage. behind you, you hear the engineer snort. “eugh, fans these days…always so overeager to meet their idols, am i right?”

yeah, someone should really stop you before you bit his head off.

you pad back into the garage several minutes later, in your tiger form. you had to teach this stupid guy a lesson. gingerly stepping around tires and spare parts, you weave your way through groups of merc employees and engineers. of course, being used to your presence, they give you a few pets on your head.

you hear the engineer’s voice before you see him.

“i also want to say, your tyre management is- how do i put this nicely- horrible.”

turning the corner, you spot a miserable looking kimi picking at his fingernails as he half-listens to the arrogant man in front of him.

at the sight of your aggressive figure- a total 180 from your usual shyer demeanor, the employees surveying the scene start to quietly snicker again.

hearing the laughs, the engineers mistakenly believes that they are laughing with him instead of at him.

“see, even they agree with me,” he chuckles at kimi. “you really should be working on managing your tires on track.”

unable to take it anymore, you sprint towards kimi, purposely nudging the engineer’s chair, knocking it off balance by a little. you nudge your large head underneath kimi’s hand, demanding pets.

the egotistic engineer yelps, almost falling off the tall stool. somehow being the only one not having seen kimi’s ’pet tiger’ before, he stutters out, “a-a-a- tiger!” before fleeing to the opposite of the garage.

you growl at him, purposely flashing your sharp canines at him. it makes you feel smug when he shrinks back even more, cowering behind a spare tire.

kimi rolls his eyes at the man’s extreme reaction. “maybe,” he says pointedly to the engineer while stroking your fur, “instead of you giving me pointers on how to do my literal job, i should be giving you pointers how to control your emotions. like, what are you so scared of? it’s just a tiger!”

when you roar again at the engineer to emphasize kimi’s point, you are pretty sure the engineer nearly pees himself.

#anais talks🎙#f2 x reader #kimi antonelli x reader #f2 x y/n #f2 x you #💬

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babyouran · 3 months ago

Text

A Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family! - what was planned to be a quick, small trip to visit y/n and haruhi soon becomes something bigger as all the members get a peek into the commoner lifestyle

Pairing - fem!reader x host club

Apart of - ouran add in

Currently, seven of the eight Host Club members were standing outside of a run-down, tiny, one-roomed house where the Fujioka residents lived. Vines were overcrowding the fence that stood in front of the cracked home, them growing in unwanted places. The shattered windows allowed a nasty breeze to enter the house, and the grass surrounding it had weeds overgrowing up to the height of Honey’s knees. As if it could not look more disappointing, the once nice weather that seemed to greet them soon turned into darkened clouds that looked as if it were specifically just floating over the Fujioka home.

Seeing such a dear friend in a depressing space was appalling to the group. Tamaki stood still, his eyes trained directly at the chunk of wood missing at the top of the doorframe, his hands tightly holding onto a box filled with treats.

"This can't be right," Tamaki muttered.

"Oh Haruhi," Y/N sighed sadly, looking at the rundown place of living. When Haruhi opened the door, her expression differed much from the one they normally saw on her. She had dirt smudged on her cheeks, a sickly pale complexion, and a dizzying stance shown through her discombobulated feet trying to keep her balanced and upright.

"Hey everyone. Why don't you come in?" Haruhi offered, and she gestured to the inside of the miniature home, where a singular chandelier hung down from the ceiling, emitting a small light to make up the whole home's space. "I know it's not much, but please make yourselves at home. I'll make us some tea." She moved across the dirtied floor, trash filtered about the room, and swung open the rusty cabinetry doors. "Um, I'm sorry, we don't have enough cups, but we do have some bowls.”

She frantically pulled out most of the dishware available, pouring an oddly dark brownish-green tea into the chipped containers. The group couldn’t help but eye one another in an attempt to stifle their comments of concern and disgust.

"Hey, boss. What's with this place? She lives here?" Hikaru uttered.

"Maybe it's some kind of set, you know, like in the movies?" Kaoru hoped, peering behind a tattered curtain in hopes of finding a mysterious camera.

"I-I hope so!" Tamaki exclaimed, his eyes staring now into the floor, unblinking.

"Haruhi, you don't have any books," Y/N realized, a gasp leaving her lips as she tried to search in a drawer but to no avail. The book-obsessed young maiden was wrecked at the discovery, similar to how many of the other members were.

"Psst, Y/n," Tamaki snapped out of his trance, nudging her shoulder. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"I'll be okay, Tamaki-senpai." Y/N shook her head up and down, wiping away an imaginary tear and taking a slow seat down onto the flattened cushion that lay near the table.

"Calm down, you guys. I bet this is the storeroom. I'm positive Infinite Cosmos is just on the other side of that closet," Tamaki told the twins, turning around on the stained cushion and narrowing his attention to them.

"Then should we try to open it?" Kaoru tiptoed over to where the door was.

"Now's not the time!"

"Right.”

"Since you guys decided to come by at lunchtime, my dad said it would be rude if I didn't offer you something to eat." Haruhi walked near the group, placing the bowls and cups filled with tea in front of them. "We've been fasting for three days to save up money to buy something suited to your taste. But it's all worth it as long as you guys like it.” She put on a fake smile.

She walked back, hunched towards the kitchen counter where the grocery bag resided, and with gawky fingers, she pulled out an eight-piece sushi sampler, holding it up in the air.

"It was marked down at the supermarket; how about that?" Haruhi lightly cheered, now placing the platter on the table. The fish looked several days past expiration, the rice was falling from its shape with an odd color, and a disturbing odor was ruminating from the supermarket sushi.

"Sorry, we came to visit Haru-chan! Don't make us eat it!" Honey yelled, standing up as tall as he could with his hands up in the air as if surrounded by law enforcement.

"Be strong men; Y/n will be upset if we hurt her friend, and Haruhi has truly suffered for our benefit," Tamaki encouraged the twins, hands shakily reaching across the table to pick up a set of cheap chipped chopsticks. "It's the least we could do.”

"But sir, I'm not even sure this is fish!" Kaoru argued.

"Wow! I can't believe it! Isn't this a piece of fancy tuna, and I'm getting to eat it with Y/N?" Haruhi admired the tuna in her hand.

"Oh no," Y/n muttered, taking one of the sushis in between her chopsticks. "This—I think I'm going to be sick," she gagged.

"No, Y/n, don't eat that; it isn’t fancy tuna!" Tamaki yelled, sitting up quickly in his bed. He sat up with sweat dripping down his forehead, his breathing was labored, and his eyes rapidly scanned around the room. "Just a dream," he sighed, rushing out of the lavish bed, speedily getting ready, and making his way down the grand stairs of his estate.

"Morning, Master Tamaki," An older woman greets him. "Anything we can do for you?"

"I need to get going; please bring the car around the front at once," he told her, school bag in hand.

"Yes, of course, sir." The driver answered with a curt nod as he went to turn and move out the door.

"I beg your pardon, Master Tamaki, but what would you like for breakfast this morning?" The woman asked.

"I don't want any! I already told you I have to get going!" Tamaki whined, looking as if he were about to stomp his foot in defiance.

"Hold it right there, Master Tamaki! I can't let you leave the house like that. You're still wearing your pajama bottoms and your house slippers," Tamaki rushed upstairs at her comment, coming back down in the proper clothing.

"Thank you, Shima," he thanked, brushing away a strand of hair that got ruffled in the movement and his face a little red from embarrassment. "I'll be going now."

"I hate to be a bother, Master Tamaki, but today is Sunday," she informed. “You don't have to go to school today, sir."

"Oh,” He looked back at her defeat. “Well, why didn't you make me aware of the fact earlier?"

"As your maid, it's my duty to help you. However, I want you to become a fine gentleman. So, you must be able to recognize your own mistakes." She grabbed his back, starting to drag him off. "Since you suddenly have some free time on your hands, why don't we work on your manners?"

"But I have to make a call! Someone bring me a phone!" Tamaki frantically yelled. A maid rushed over with a rotary, which Tamaki quickly took from her grip, spinning around the digits. "Hey Kyoya, there's something I need to talk to you about.”

The weekend granted free time for the girls of the host club to congregate in the ways they wished. With the bright sun shining and heating their exposed skin, Haruhi and Y/n walked back from their venture at the supermarket with warmth in their hearts. It was a most enjoyable time for the wealthier girl, as she had never participated in it. They were chatting amongst themselves until Haruhi’s steps halted when something out of the ordinary came into view—a group of people swarming around some fancy cars. She took a few steps forward to catch a better glimpse, curiosity getting the best of her, and droned out the ramblings of Y/N.

"Check out that car," a man mentioned, pointing out the obvious while a driver was opening the door to the back seat. To much surprise, some of the fellow host club members emerged.

"Wow, so this is where Haruhi lives?" Kaoru spoke.

"It's pretty big, huh?" Hikaru added, as both of the twins were thoroughly impressed.

"Look at all the rooms!" Honey jumped up and down, tugging on Mori’s hand.

"This building is what you might call an aggregate commoner dwelling," Kyoya told them.

"So that means this isn't just hers?" Hikaru put together residing in a more comfortable and toned-down choice of clothing. Most of the boys wore tops without long sleeves, like Mori and Kyoya’s vest or Honey’s sailor shirt. Tamaki had a light yellow sweater on, and the twins were decked out in red and white tops. Overall, the uniforms were gone, and the street clothes fashion commenced.

"Yes, her home is only one of these units," he confirmed.

"Kyoya! Why did you bring these idiots with?" Tamaki whined, now actually stomping his feet.

"Kyoya, it was just supposed to be you and me!”

"Well, you see, I knew you didn't dare to come here alone to see Y/n outside of a school setting, so I thought it'd be best if everyone came along," he explained. "Okay, let's all go home; I underestimated our great leader.”

"I'm sorry, don't leave," Tamaki apologized, putting his hands down in defeat.

There was still a bumbling crowd around the vehicles whispering different rumors about why they appeared and just who the host club were. Y/N, who was naturally curious, stopped her ramblings and began to venture to the crowd, taking in their reactions.

"Now don't you forget men!" Tamaki pulled the rest of the group over into a huddle. "This is a casual—we just happened to be in the neighborhood—type of visit. Y/n will be outraged if we disrespect Haruhi, and after all, Haruhi is a member of our club. We will do our best to be respectful and not judge them. Don't say shabby, cramped, and run down when referring to her home," Tamaki warned the group.

Though the girl in question had heard their whole conversation and was heating up with rage, she turned towards the boys and said, "It's too late; just leave!" At the sudden outburst, Y/n rushed over to her friend's side to see the rest of the host club in the distance.

“Wow, everyone is here!" Y/n beamed, thrilled nature all over her features as she admired the appearances of all of her friends in the same place.

Similar to fruitflies attracted to something sweet, the boys ventured over near the girls, Honey pushing himself closer to Y/n’s side as he cocked his head up. “You look pretty, N/n-chan!” Even the younger-natured boy could recognize a new spark in Y/n’s character with a new venue and be surrounded by those she cared for.

"Thank you, Honey-senpai," Y/n smiled down at the boy.

Haruhi tugged on Y/n’s wrist, pulling her closer to her. "Now the rest of you, get the hell out of here!"

"Haruhi's so mad, she cursed at us!" Tamaki exclaimed, jumping in fear.

"Was this not a coincidence?” Y/n cocked her head to the side, furrowed eyebrows.

“No, they planned this without my permission,” Haruhi glanced over to the girl, cheeks a flamed red. Y/n immediately turned to the man of the hour—Tamaki—and watched as he shrieked, cowering behind the twin's frames in fear of upsetting Y/n.

"Excuse me, Haruhi, but is everything alright?" An older woman went up to her, tapping her shoulder lightly.

"Hi, Miss Land-Lady.”

"These young men are driving such fancy, foreign cars; they're not Yakuza, are they?"

"No, they are not," Haruhi reassured her, shaking her head and stifling a little laugh at the insinuation.

"Do you want me to call the police for you?" She asked, whispering in Haruhi's ear. Tamaki bounced away from his place of hiding and gently placed the woman's palm into his grip.

"Pleased to meet you, madam. My name is Suou; I'm one of Haruhi's friends," he explained, almost sparkling in the sunlight.

"Really? My goodness, well, aren't you just adorable?" The landlady complimented, a total switch in her former demeanor as she was greeted with his presence up close.

"We're just stopping; we didn't mean to cause a scene. I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's no problem," she giggled, moving towards Haruhi. "I'll stop by later with snacks for you and your friends.”

With a loud sigh, Haruhi began the way up the steps leading to her home, an eager group trailing behind. Yet she halted at the door. "Okay, here's the deal; I'm only giving you guys a quick peak," Haruhi explained. “Today was meant to be time for just Y/n and "Today was meant to be time for just Y/N and me.”

"But look, I brought you a gift, Haru-chan!" Honey told her, holding up a box full of delicious sweets, all decorated differently and delicately.

“Those look very good,” Y/n turned towards Haruhi, who was entranced by the expensive goodies. “Maybe it would be fun for us all to be together." She quietly commented, glancing hopefully at her friend.

"Fine, I guess I'll make some tea," Haruhi caved in, unlocking the door and gesturing the group inside her home.

"What a hovel," Hikaru commented, gaining a flick to the back of his head from Y/N. "Ow!"

"Be nice," She muttered back quietly, following Haruhi in.

"A wood-built two-bedroom unit—that's normal for a commoner family of two," Kyoya voiced, the group looking around the apartment in something mixed with awe and confusion.

"Haruhi's such a pipsqueak; at least we know she won't hit her head on the low ceilings," Kaoru noticed.

"Well, I think it's a super-cute little room!" Honey exclaimed.

"It's nice; I like your fridge color," Y/n admired, nodding repeatdly next to Honey as the two plastered on overexaggerated grins of happiness.

"You don't have to struggle to compliment it," Haruhi grumbled.

"Hold on. Are we supposed to take off our shoes too?" Honey pointed to Haruhi's shoes that were by the door.

"Please, if you don't mind," she voiced, and the group followed, taking off their shoes.

"Thanks for inviting us in!" The fellow members thanked, walking over to the table.

"This place is quite unpleasant; I think I may have underestimated commoner housing. Okay, we are going to have to squeeze. Y/N, come by me and let's all put our knees to our chests," Tamaki commanded the group. Y/n scurried by the boy at his command, sitting next to him as Mori took up the space on her other side. It was clear that the larger group was cramped in the smaller room, all smushed against one another as Haruhi got the goodies prepared.

"I'm going to go make us some tea," Haruhi told them as she walked over to her stove.

"Oh! Do you need help?" Y/n slowly stood up, squishing around with the group stuck at her side, but she was yanked back down by Mori pulling her. "Oh!"

"Hey. Here's an idea: why don't you make us this? It's black tea our father bought us as a souvenir from Africa, so try it," Hikaru suggested, and he pulled out the container magically from his side, passing it onto the host.

"Mori-senpai, are you okay?" Y/n whispered over to him, but the boy just nodded, gently removing his arm away from her upper arm and going forth to look forward.

"Um sure, no problem," Haruhi accepted the tea, moving over to her kitchen.

"It's best served as milk tea; do you have milk?" Kaoru inquired.

"I think, when was the last time that I bought some milk?" Haruhi thought to herself.

"Stop it; what the hell are you doing?" Tamaki yelled in a whisper. "Don't be so mean to her, you idiots!"

"What do you mean?" The twins asked.

"I know you're trying to embarrass her by asking for that African tea. Look! She has no idea how she's supposed to prepare it! We are trying to keep Y/n hap-" He quickly fake coughed. "Haruhi, trying to keep Haruhi happy and respect her."

"What if she doesn't even have a teapot?" Kaoru added.

"And she's too embarrassed to tell us that she doesn't!" Hikaru assumed. "I'm sorry, Haruhi; you don't have to go to all that trouble." He stuck out his hand, reaching for her.

"What? It's no trouble. Besides, I've already made it," she told him, finishing up pouring it.

"Man, that was a close one, boss," Kaoru sighed.

"We have been reduced by commoners' wisdom," Tamaki told the twins, whispering over to them on his other side, the three boys breathing a sigh of relief at the fact the tea was able to be created.

"What do you mean, sir?" Hikaru asked.

"Nothing we know to be true in our world holds true here. We have to be careful how we react. One little off-handed remark could break Haruhi's heart, which would get Y/n upset and then break hers too. That means in this fight, the first person to embarrass Haruhi loses," Tamaki told them.

"Well guys, the tea is ready. I'm sorry that not all of the cups match," Haruhi apologized.

"Don't worry about it, Haruhi-chan," Y/n voiced. "I'll even have some tea," she told her.

"You're taking off your mask? Like right now? In front of all of us?" Tamaki started to fire off questions to her. Tamaki leaned in closer, to which Mori reacted by reaching in front of Y/n and pushing his shoulder away a bit in order to give Y/n some room.

"No, not fully.” She huffed quietly, some embarrassment sneaking up into her senses. “I can still cover my mouth with my hand when I'm about to take a sip or a bite of something," she explained, moving a little closer to Mori, away from the peering Tamaki.

"Go on, N/n-chan! You can choose your cake first!" Honey offered.

"I think I'll let Haruhi go first." Y/n looked towards her friend, pushing the box closer across the table. "You are letting us visit in your home.”

"Are you sure, Y/n?"

"Go on, we're rich; we eat this kind of stuff all the time," Kaoru (horribly) reassured her.

"I'll take this one then," She pointed to a vanilla piece with strawberries decorating the top, taking it on her plate and soon munching upon it.

"I'll take this chocolate one," Y/n giddily lifted it up, pushing her fork through the cake and swiftly bringing it to her lips. She used her other hand to pull down the mask and push it past her lips, all while still hiding it from the majority's view. "This is so good," she mumbled. The only ones who could catch a peak were Tamaki, who had already seen the view in its full motion, and Mori with lighter cheeks than normal.

"She's so cute!" The twins and Tamaki commented, watching her eat and forgetting about themselves. For many club members, it was a great confusion as to why the mask was always a common appearance in her outfits, but one that Kyoya had warned them about in the beginning—a backstory lying within.

"Here, Y/n, take this chocolate piece on top of my cake; you like chocolate, right?" Mori picked it up with his fork and placed it on her plate.

"Yeah, I do!" She looked happily at him, taking the piece and soon moving it towards her mouth. "Thank you, Mori-senpai," He just shrugged but moved over closer and rested an arm behind her, leaning on it as he took in the subtle views of Y/n’s lips munching onto the dessert. It was shocking to Mori how much seeing the oral part of one's face could totally make an appearance.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Hikaru yelled, anime tears falling from his, Kaoru, and Tamaki's eyes.

"I should have been sharing chocolate with her," Tamaki whined.

"Why'd we let him trick us?!" Kaoru wondered sadly.

"Eating all that cake sure wet my appetite," Honey sighed.

"Yeah, isn't it lunchtime about now?" Hikaru realized.

"Well then, what's for lunch?" Four of the members asked the tired girl.

"Mori-senpai," Y/n nudged his shoulder a little, gaining his attention. "Do you think Haruhi is okay with all of us? I mean, this was all unannounced, and we are now asking her to do all these things; I don't want to upset my friend," she worried, looking at him.

"She's okay; you are a good friend. Don't worry," He patted her head once, the calloused fingers resting in the different buds of hair on the top of her head. His fingers ever so slightly nudged their way beneath the hair before a noise snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Well, if that's what you want," Haruhi began. Mori speedily removed his hand from such a position and focused his attention back onto the table. "I do have a friend who runs a nice little sushi shop nearby. So I can just give him a call; his stuff is pretty high quality."

Tamaki looked at her weirdly, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling on it soon enough, handing it to her with a very suspicious expression.

"Be careful, Haruhi; just because the sushi's packaging says 'premium' doesn't mean that it's high quality," she read out loud. "I'm not stupid; I could figure that out on my own." She turned to him.

"How could you do that to me? Daddy even tried to look casual and not embarrass you like Y/n would have wanted.” To which the girl mentioned just shared a glare with her friend.

"I'd really like it if you made us something for lunch, Haru-chan," Honey voiced happily.

"No, Honey-senpai!" Hikaru yelled.

"How could you ask that of her?!" Kaoru added.

"Don't upset her; try to restrain yourself!" Tamaki commented.

"I guess I could whip something up, but it's going to take me some time," Haruhi told Honey.

"We can wait," Y/n piped up. "I can also help you cook; I know a few things." She mumbled, standing up but getting fingers wrapped around her wrist once again. "I promise i'm not that bad Mori-senpai," She laughed and he removed his fingers, watching her walk away. "It's the least I could do."

"Why didn't we think of that?" the twins whined.

"This means that we will be able to taste Y/n's cooking," Tamaki said.

"I'm going to have to go to the supermarket again," Haruhi sighed.

"We're coming with you!" The twins spoke.

"Me too, me too!" Honey agreed, Y/n nodding her head eagerly, now the whole group in a place where they were wanting to go with.

"Yay! Commoners' supermarket! Commoners' supermarket!"

"This is going to be fun!" Honey yelled, running after Mori as they began to pile out of the room. Yet quickly Haruhi noticed the disappearance of two prominent members.

"Well, that's it, So much for having the day off." She peaked through the other room, seeing Y/n and Tamaki by her mother's shrine. "Hey senpai, Y/n, are you guys coming?"

"We are; I just thought it would be good to pay our respects," Y/n told her. "She's pretty, like you, Haruhi. I'll meet you outside." She stood up, going out of the apartment where the other members waited.

"Your mother, she seems smart," Tamaki turned towards Haruhi; nonetheless, with the different circumstances of the girl joining the group, friendships were flourishing all around and especially between the blonde and secret girl.

"Yeah, she was a lawyer," Haruhi informed him, a small smile drifting onto her lips.

"I bet she was a great one, I can tell. Trust me, you can't fool these eyes, Haruhi." Tamaki spoke very softly, his once more energetic demeanor toned down to share respect toward an important woman in his friend's life.

"I'm not so sure about that senpai," Haruhi deadpanned. "She really was a great lawyer.” And with her comment, the girl got up, waiting for Tamaki to walk out with her, but as soon as he stood, a mysterious banana peel came into view, where the male slipped, falling on top of Haruhi. His hands held up his upper frame, just looming over her as he took in her features for any injuries.

"Are you okay Haruhi?"

"I'm fine, but you're kind of heavy," she huffed.

"I'm home, Haruhi! Hey, why'd you leave the door open?" Her father walked in, spinning around in their dress.

"Welcome home, dad," Haruhi muttered, her father's eyes laid on the man on top of their daughter. "So dad, how was work?"

Tamaki started to freak out, his mind running with thoughts about how they would react, how Y/n would react, and that the man standing at the door was truly Haruhi's father.

Haruhi's father walked over, throwing Tamaki off into the wall. "I'm sorry, I hated having to leave you home alone last night. You must have been lonely,"

"That sound, he hit really hard," Haruhi’s eyes widened at the fear of her fathers strength and the undoubted pain her club mate must be in.

"Ah, my arm has been bothering me; I sure could use a cup of hot tea,"

"Hot tea? I'll get it for you. Haruhi, your father wants hot tea; do you use firewood to boil it?" Tamaki started to rush all around the place.

"Oh, look at that; I've seem to come across a little pest. Would you like to tell me why you're addressing my daughter with such informality, young man?" Haruhi's father questioned, yanking on the young man's shirt to pull him back near him.

"Hey, is everything okay here, boss?" Hikaru poked his head through the door, the rest of the club behind him.

"Check it out; the person we passed downstairs is Haruhi's father," Kaoru realized.

"Hikaru, Kaoru, help me out here," Tamaki begged, lying on the floor.

"It's nice to meet you, Haruhi's dad. We're good friends of your daughter's, the Hitachiin brothers," they introduced, stepping on Tamaki to reach the man.

"So you are a crossdresser, aren't you?" Kaoru questioned.

"You're the first real corssdresser we've ever seen!" Hikaru told them.

"Sorry about him; he's a lady's man, if you know what I mean."

"He's a pheromone machine. In fact, I bet he's fooled around with more ladies than you can count," Kaoru explained with great exclamation, both of the twins highlighting the negative behaviors of their club leader.

"He likes to fool around, huh?" An irk mark appeared on Ranka's face.

"I'm not a lady's man! I don't like your daughter; I only like a different girl. I'm being completely honest here; I care about Haruhi like she's my own daughter, same with Y/n!" The man stood up, flaring his hands all about. It was clear to Haruhi’s father that the blonde was no true threat, and thus he retreated his more intimating demeanor with the other members.

"I get it; you must be the host club I've heard so much about!" Haruhi's father realized. "You certainly are a fine-looking bunch of men and a very pretty woman." He turned to Y/n, pawing at her hair. "I'm not sure which of you men I like most; all of you just call me Ranka? It's the professional name I use."

"Professional name? You mean like a stage name?" Honey asked.

"Exactly like that, Mitsukuni," Ranka smiled at him.

"Hold on. How did you know my name, sir?"

"You two are third years, Haninozuka Mitzukuni and Morionzuka Takashi." Ranka looked towards them. "You twins are first years and so is Takahashi Y/n; you are in the same class as Haruhi as well."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were Haruhi's father," Y/n apologized, bowing over and over in her seat. "You're so gorgeous and I was so inconsiderate; I should have done research to be prepared-"

"Don't worry, sweetie, I have heard a lot about you already!" She smiled.

"So Haruhi has told you about us?" Hikaru asked.

"No, just Takahashi, but Kyoya has told me about you two over the phone.”

"You truly are an amazing person, Ranka." The rest of the group looked oddly at this Kyoya, who plastered on a grateful grin. "We have been entrusted with the care of his special daughter; it's only natural that we introduce ourselves and give him periodic reports. Ordinarily that would be your job, wouldn't it?" Kyoya looked over at the shy Tamaki, who faced away—knees to his chest—from the others.

"I'm impressed the club has such a capable president!" Ranka admired. At the unknown notion that her father was communicating with Kyoya for a long period of time, his daughter jumped in anger at being left out of the light. She angrily packed up her purse and stood walking towards the door. "Haruhi, where are you going?"

"The supermarket, alright?" She rested her hand at the doorknob and looked back at Y/n. "I have to go shopping; Y/n is coming with, and the rest of you will stay here; try to behave yourselves.”

Y/n jumped up, waving goodbye to the group and rushing after Haruhi.

"Thank you, Haruhi!" She thanked, a small blush appearing on the said girl's cheeks.

"It-it's nothing; let's just get going." She stuttered, taking Y/n's hand and dragging her out of the door.

"Wait! We wanted to go to a commoners supermarket," Hikaru called out.

"I wouldn't bother; once she has made her mind up, she'll never change it!" Ranka lightly chuckled. She then explained how Haruhi has made most of the decisions on her own, like when she transferred to Ouran High School.

"I hope you boys know I'm thankful for you, and Y/n, since she met you, she seems happier. She's enjoying herself; wouldn't you think so, Suou Tamaki?" Ranka turned to the boy, who was now in a closet, basking in his sadness as mushrooms popped up around.

"You know who I am?"

"Of course, I've heard a thing or two about when Haruhi was trying to get Y/n to join the group," Ranka smiled. "You're the one that didn't realize Haruhi was a girl until the last moment. You're clueless, aren't you? Pretty pathetic. Now that we've gotten all the introductions out of the way, how would you boys like to have a little fun?"

"Why didn't he tell me? I had no idea Kyoya-senpai has been calling my dad and giving him updates," Haruhi expressed tiredly.

"He might have felt it was important, I mean, he just wants to be involved in your life, it's easy to tell how much he loves you." Y/n patted her shoulder and then pulled her into a side hug. "You have to admit you're an independent person; it's not a bad thing, but sometimes other people want in too.”

"Yeah," she grinned, looking at Y/n. "You're also independent yourself, you know? Worse than me." She nudged her shoulder back, causing Y/n to laugh.

The rest of the Host Club members stayed back with Ranka, all sneakily looking at Y/n and Haruhi. Ranka wore a long coat, glasses, and a scarf to better hide their appearance as the rest of the boys followed along, hiding behind different objects and podiums.

"So we're going to follow them to the supermarket?" The twins questioned.

"This is what you meant by 'fun'?" Kyoya asked.

"Yes! I call it the stalking game." She threw them back a thumbs up, covering her face at the moment.

"What an attractive group of young men!" A woman whispered to another.

"In all honesty, I have a completely selfish reason for bringing you out with me. I want to be seen with a bunch of cute boys!" Ranka exclaimed, taking her glasses off and showing off her face.

At the supermarket, they watched Haruhi look at vegetables with Y/n at her side.

"OO! Haruhi, what about these vegetables?" She held up some lettuce. "Do you need this? Wait, it doesn't look as nice as the lettuce in the salads at my home." Y/n stuck a finger to her chin, looking at the vegetable oddly.

"I doubt it is; yours is most likely grown in your garden," Haruhi laughed. "I could still use it for something else; feel free to put it in the basket."

"Thank you, Haruhi! Shopping is kind of fun."

"You don't go shopping?"

"Nope, I've only been to a store a few times, including our journey here earlier today," Y/n told her, wandering off to look at some coffee and bringing it back.

“Do you really think it is necessary to follow her around like this?” Tamaki and Ranka peeked out from behind an aisle filled with different canned goods. “Are you that worried about her?”

“As you know, Haruhi lost her mother at a young age, and afterwards she took on all of the chores and shopping by herself. I decided to start following her whenever she would leave the house; maybe I’m just being overprotective?” Ranka sighed, patting her cheeks in deep thought. “I worry about her all the time; I’m the only one who can protect her, you know? Either she does not know how to depend on others or refuses to. She’s always been so independent and so strong. And she has this uncanny ability to affect others without even realising it.”

“That’s true; I’ve seen it." The president stared off, agreeing with the parental figure. He watched the two girls, Y/n nudging along the shoulder of Haruhi as they giggled off about something. They were finding pure, simple enjoyment in the task, truly enjoying one another's company.

The girls didn't notice Honey, who was being pushed by Mori in the back, or the twins looking around themselves. "Hey Tamaki-senpai, what are you doing here?" Y/n turned around to look at the man.

"I followed you guys here so I could carry your shopping basket; you know how Daddy loves accessories." He awkwardly chuckled, ripping the basket away from her hands.

"Tamaki! What should we make?" Y/n grabbed him, dragging him over to a new section. "Isn't it so amazing how this place is set up and all the foods?” The girl excitedly took a turn of her head back to her female friend, “Haruhi! Come over and look with us!”

He looked down at her, admiring her, quiet for a moment before snapping out of his thoughts and joining in the conversation. "Yeah, we should make a stewpot, ones with lots of meat but no chrysanthemums," Tamaki told them.

"Does that sound okay, Haruhi? I'll help you make it!" Y/n beamed, looking at Haruhi intently.

"That's fine.”

"Here, Tamaki, take some chrysanthemum! You're favorite!" Ranka put more into his bowl, piling it up on top of the stew. "Y/n, you adorable girl, take some extra meat!”

"Ah, thank you, Ranka!" She grinned cheerily underneath her mask. "We did a good job." Y/n looked over at Haruhi, lifting up a spoonful of some of the stew to her lips.

"Yeah, we did,” a soft hum left the girls lips before opening them up wider to take in the tasteful flavors of the stew. Ranka looked at her daughter, engaging with the other girl happily. It was clear that a certain host member of the group brought out more vibrant emotions from their daughter, and to admire the simple experience between the two girls caused his soul to shine a little brighter.

Ranka laughed to herself, picking up a spoonful from their own bowl, "Alright, Haruhi, dear, try some of mine!”

next chapter - Big Brother is a Prince!

#haruhi fujioka #hikaru x reader #honey x reader #kaoru x reader #kyoya ootori #ohshc haruhi #ouran hshc #ouran highschool host club #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #tamaki x reader #ohshc tamaki #tamaki suoh #kyoya x reader #kaoru hitachiin #ouranhighhostclub #ouran koukou host club #ouran x reader #hikaru hitachiin

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angelcakestarlet · 1 year ago

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salvatore

richie jerimovich x reader - richie makes carmy regret hiring the cute young waitress

wrote dis quick, messy, nd did not look over it but enjoy! :>

"so um look, natalie is going to be training you this week alright" carmy informs you as he sifts through a pile of papers scattering his desk. "you ever serve before?", "for a few months yeah, it's been getting me through college so" you twiddle your thumbs nervously. the restaurant was certainly... intimidating? going to school in chicago you had stopped by a couple times for lunch or drunk off your ass after the club. even while slurring your words you could remember how fucking good that sandwich was. even if most of it was puked up in the bushes out front.

"yo, cousin!" an abrasive voice comes stumbling through carmy's office door without warning, "sugar is out here telling me some bullshit about you hiring servers? look we don't need that shit. a sandwich comes out i fucking hand it to them, boom. why are you gonna pay some dipshit to do it for me?". you turn around to face the loud voice, being met with a tall, tan, buzzcut typical line cook with a deep accent. "jesus fucking christ, one of these 'dipshits' is standing in front of you richie." carmy yells back, obviously pained to have you witness that. "ah shit-" richie steps back to get a full length view of you, taking you in. his gaze felt like an intrusion. "i'm sorry, doll, richie jerimovich." he envelopes your hand in his calloused and rough one, introducing himself. "you know what i'm sorry, cousin, anyone with a set of eyes would hire her too" he snickers, with his hand still atop yours he takes his eyes away from you to acknowledge carmen. "cousin, get the fuck out, you fucking creep!" signaling for the door. "oh my god" richie sighs dramatically, "i'm stating the fucking obvious alright, you need marcus to come in here to tell you the same thing? yo, marcus!" carmen rushes to shove richie out the door, "i'm sorry, i couldn't help myself! look, you're beautiful, sweetheart!" he lets out one last compliment. you giggle to yourself and the man making a spectacle of himself.

carmen shuts the office door and sighs, rubbing his forehead with his tired hand. "i'm sorry, he's... he's a fucking jagoff." you appreciate the apology, but having worked in a restaurant has you accustomed to the snickers and comments from line cooks and customers alike. most of the girls usually brush it off, leaving them disgusted and a distaste for the job for the next few hours. but, your guilty pleasure has become using it to your benefit. free food from cooks, more money from tips, etc. you're sure you could work richie to your benefit just the same. "don't worry about it, he seems... nice" your ease settles carmy and he snickers, "you could say that i guess".

you follow natalie around the restaurant for the next few hours as she takes you through the front of the house and back, introducing you to everyone and all the standards. when five o clock hits, she lets you go, handing you an apron, a t-shirt. and a name tag. thanking her and setting out to find the back alley for a quick ciggy. you find richie lighting a cigarette in the dimly lit alley, "can i bum a cigarette?" you sit down beside him, smelling the smoke clinging to his shirt. "its your first day and you're asking me for shit?" he looks over at you and you notice his evident wrinkles, veins in his neck, and tired eyes. "pretty please?" you look up at him, turning your whole body to face him with a sweet smile on your face. he rolls his eyes playfully, "you know what you're doing huh?" he says as he pulls one more cigarette from its box. "open." you scrunch your eyebrows, confused at his request. his eyes shift to your lips, taking two fingers and tapping your cheek signaling for you to open your mouth. "come on," you separate your lips and he places a cigarette between them, lighting it swiftly. you feel your cheeks get warm, from the cigarette or from his words you don't know (yes you do). "thank you" you say quietly, still stunned a bit. "you know you're gonna ruin that sweet face smoking" he coughs through the lit cigarette. "oh are you telling me what to do now, richie?" you lean back, eyes entranced by the way his hands make the cigarette almost look like a lollipop stick. "a girl like you is probably looking for someone to tell her what to do, sweetheart". as you're trying to figure out whether that just pissed you off or turned you on, carmy bursts through the back door. "cousin, what the fuck are you doing?! we need you in the kitchen, now please! and leave the new girl alone, jesus" carmy yells as richie stomps on what's left of his cigarette and puts his hands up in defense. "i'm coming, fuck off. it was a pleasure, babe" he shakes your hand and makes his way inside. you peer at the closed door, listening to the muffled argument carmy and richie have in front of it. great first day.

#richie jerimovich #the bear #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x you #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #richie jerimovich imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #natalie berzatto #sugar berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear fanfiction

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cloverfieldds · 23 days ago

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someone requested for the full thing so um here ^^!

tw - detrans, religious play, cnc

being corrupted by a prest at a convent.

heading to a confessional full of guilt because you promised you wouldn’t engage in any more sinful behaviors or thoughts, but you’ve been binding lately and denying your god given sex.

you shyly step into the confessional box and stay silent as you’re scared to utter any words. its like you know that he knows why youre here.

“forgive me father..” you choke on your words, already ready to cry at the thought of his response.

“save it, my child. how many times are we to go through with this? i’m starting to think you want the devil to keep a hold on you.”

“no!” you cry out in desperation, feeling sick at the mere thought. “my body just feels wrong, father. like im not supposed to be… a girl”

no response. you can feel the disappointment through a heavy sigh followed by the opening of his door. your eyes begin to water as thoughts embrace your mind, telling you that he’s given up on you and that youre beyond healing. you stifle the cries threatening to leave your throat as your hands lay themselves over your lips. you’ve disappointed everyone in the church, not just yourself.

the door opens for you, only slightly, a crack of light hitting your eye as it does.

the priest locks eyes with you, a furrowed, disgusted expression on his face. “follow me,” he utters before turning around and leading you to his office.

you hesitantly follow him and look around the empty sanctuary, happy no one is there to have overheard anything, to have seen how disappointed youre making everyone. you step into his office, surprisingly for the first time, and watch as he gestures you to sit down, his seat right across from yours, save from his desk between you two. you sit in an uncomfortable silence and try your best to focus on not crying even though the tears are seconds from falling from your eyes.

the silence itself has gone on too long, it feels like it’s been hours of him just staring you down. you open your mouth to break it but as soon as you try speaking you choke and those tears start to fall. uncontrollable sobbing emits from your side of the desk and you begin wiping your tears slower than they fall. “im sorry.. m so so sorry father please dont be mad i tried please.”

you hear a slight groan from him as you cry out and force yourself to lock eyes with him. he is clearly irritated at you, but there is only so much you can do, right? this isnt really your fault. its the devil.

he calls out your name, “truthfully, youre trying your hardest—dedicating your life to the lord like you should be?” you shakingly nod. he falls silent once more and you find yourself looking down to the floor again. his eyes dont leave you but he still doesnt speak. this suffocation making you only more nauseated within yourself. “would you do anything to reconnect with the lord and fix yourself, my child?”

“yes! yes, father! i would!” you cry out.

“…come here.”

you look back up and watch as his chair slightly swivels to the right, indicating for you to walk around his desk and stand directly in front of him. tears continue streaming down your face as your eyes gaze upon his shoes. the same black leather shoes that youve seen a thousand times before during service. but this time it seems just a bit more humiliating.

“father..”

“hush, child.” his hand reaches toward your arm and slowly slides down to grab onto your hand. “god created these hands, my child. such girly, feminine hands,” he moves his hand to your hips, gladly watching you flinch at each and every movement. “such a godly frame going to waste. if your parents knew half of the things youve told me, im sure theyd strip you down to the core of your soul and make you apologize for every sin youve confessed to me.” you can feel every movement against your skin, slightly shaking as he slips his hand beneath your shirt, pausing as he gets to your binder. your breath hitches upon the realization.

“father.!”

“you confess your sins to me while still committing them?” you cant find it in yourself to respond. “take it off.”

you raise a brow, your crying coming to a temporary stop. “father.. could you.. turn around?”

“how am i sure you wont lie to me again? take it off. ill be watching.” your hands shake as you start to move, but you cant deny an order from the only person who knows your secret, the only one who can and would help you. he watches silently as you lift your top, hanging it on the wrist of your arm while you close your eyes and force the binder from your skin. you start to cry once more, but keep yourself going with the thought that hes just trying to help.

your binder is off, and you move to slide your shirt back onto your body, but quickly open your eyes back up once his hand grabs your wrist.

“did i say to put that back on?”

you shake your head, “but sir”

“put your hands down.” slowly, you listen to his command, only crying more at the action as you do. “stay still.” you watch as his hands move to your chest. you wanna say something, scream for help, anything, but you cant. everyone will know if they see, the binder you once wore so clearly laying out on his desk. your eyes close again as he starts to fondle you. and even though your eyes are closed, you can feel his gaze on your chest, almost like theyre following the movement of his own hands as he gropes and pinches at you. you hold in sounds of discomfort.

“this is what these are meant for. youre ruining yourself squishing them against that rib cage of yours. god’s creations are not meant to be hidden.” you wince as he pinches your nipple.

it feels like forever has gone by of him stimulating your chest, your thighs now subconsciously and slightly rubbing together as the feeling has started to turn you on. just as you hoped he wouldnt notice, you almost jump as he places a hand on the waistband of your boxers and starts to pull them down in a bundle with your pants. your hands shoot down to grip onto the fabric as your eyes lock with his. you can feel your heart skip a beat as he raises an eyebrow, a silent warning not to do anything stupid. you cant find it in yourself to move your hands. your binder- your chest is one thing but this? no one is supposed to see you like this.

“please.. ill be good, ill throw the binder and boxers and everything away, please,” you cry out as your fists tighten around the fabric.

he stares in silence as pleas leave your mouth on mindless repeat. within a few minutes his hands leave your pants and you can feel a wave of relief wash over you.

“get on your knees.” you shakingly fall to the floor, thinking nothing more than him sparing your nudity. your crying quickly stops once more as you watch him unbuckle his pants, staring at you as he does so. “youre going to cleanse yourself.” his dick is pulled from his boxers, stroking it with care as he stares at you. “ill teach you what it means to be a man, why you can never be one yourself.” and again, your tears begin to flow. you watch as his hand reaches for your hair, gripping it in your hands as you feel strands strain against your scalp. you cant beg anymore, your hand holds onto his wrist as a silent ask for mercy, but a sting is quickly felt on your cheek as a heavy hand makes impact with your cheek. “open.”

you oblige.

within moments, youre sucking off your pastor as he forces your tongue down his shaft, occasionally giving you instruction on how to make himself feel good. his thickness strains against the inside of your mouth as his moans fill your ears. your nipples rub against the cloth of his pants as he fucks your mouth, wetness forming in your boxers as he does so.

soon his moans grow longer, instructions of what to do turning more and more into praises from his lips. the praise sending a shiver down your spine. your face is suddenly pushed against his pubes as he twitches against you, cum shooting down your throat as you try your best to swallow in order to not drown in cum.

with a pop, dick is removed from your mouth as any remaining cum drips from your lips and down your chin. you look up at him with a pathetic, whiny look that sends blood straight back to his cock. “you have no idea how whorish you are, my child. stand up.”

you stand on his command and try simultaneously wiping the tears from your eyes while removing the cum from your mouth. you watch his hand start to stroke his cock once more in a horrified silence. his hand moves back to your waistband and begins sliding them down once more. you dont have the will to stop him this time, but that doesnt stop you from begging him to not go through with this, making desperate promises of staying a girl and not going through with your transition. he ignores you as annoyance rises within him.

“ill make sure you stick to that.” quickly your pants and boxers are on the floor, a slight wetness on your inner thighs. slick coats them and youre guided to spread your legs as he licks his fingers and rubs your clit. “are you still a virgin, my child?”

you nod, embarrassed.

“tch,” he kisses his teeth. “the only godly thing about you.” you look away as he keeps on stimulating you, holding in your moans while your lips are coated in your own juices. just as you get used to the feeling, you can feel a foreign feeling at your lips, quickly looking down just in time to see him push a finger inside of you, a pained moan escape you as he does so. you cry out while your body falls forward and your hands find stability on his shoulders.

“no..!” you sob against him as he starts to move, not waiting for you to adjust to the feeling. “father! i havent.. please!”

he ignores you and continues to thrust in and out, the sound of your juices coating his finger filling your ears as his moans once did. quickly a second finger joins his first and you fully buckle over on top of him, your knee placed in between his legs on his chair as your pants drop and are left wrapped around one ankle.

“youll be ready soon, my child. dont cry.” he spits out disgustingly soothing words while you cry anyway. the thickness of his fingers is too much, and you can only imagine how painful itll be when he finally fucks you.

almost as if reading your mind, his fingers pull themselves out and his slaps your pussy before moving a hand back to his cock. “thatll be enough.”

your eyes widen as speaks, knowing yourself that it isnt enough at all. “no, father just a bit more.. please!”

he ignores you and gestures for you to climb on top of him as you cry out.

“no! no!” you grab his hand and lead it back towards your boycunt, pathetically grinding against it in hopes that hell continue to fingerfuck you. “see? just a bit more! please! pl-“

a harsh hand hits your cheek once more, that familiar sting shutting you up and stopping your cries.

“get up here or ill inflict a godly punishment onto you.”

your hand grips onto his shoulder for stability as you slowly climb on top of him, apologizing to god as you do. your lips tremble while you speak and do your best to keep from any more physical punishment.

his cockhead glides against your lips, the wetness from his spit, your slick, and his cum mixing together. he tries to push in, slipping against your lips as it doesn’t go. a simple “relax” leaves his mouth as if its that easy, but you try anyway. and within a few more tries, the pain from his initial entrance hits you. you let out a guttural moan as your head falls onto his shoulder, crying out in pain. he wastes no time moving deeper inside of you. your fingers grip onto his shoulders and you continue to beg for mercy. the tightness of your virgin walls doesnt help your desperation. with a final thrust, hes completely inside of you, listening to your heavy breathing as you subconsciously clench around his dick. he pauses for a bit, finally letting you catch your breath as he rubs circles on your back, calling you a good girl and loving the feeling of your pussy every time the words leave his lips.

“are you alright?” you shake your head, unable to speak. he doesnt seem to care.

his hands grip onto your hips and quickly start to thrust himself into you. you let out another painful cry, feeling nothing but regret. you wish you left the church and let him tell everyone. you wish you never took your binder off or let him remove your boxers. you wish your stupid boycunt didnt get wet from all the friction on your nipples. you wish you didnt let him grope and molest you like that. but it doesnt seem to matter. your hole burns and hes thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

“this is.. your role as a wom.. as a woman.” he groans into your ear. “do you hear me?” you can only sob out incoherent responses. “you were made.. made for this, my child.” you clench around his dick every time he speaks, like some dirty and raw part of you likes being spoken to like this. “thinking.. someone as slutty as you? someone so.. fuck,” you jump (well, as much as you can) at his swearing, “so clearly made for being penetrated was meant to.. to be a boy?”

“..m sorry.. sorry sorry” you apologize between chokes and cries.

“fuck.. even touching you is corrupting me. youll need to pray every hour if you want forgiveness at this.. at this rate.” you can feel your body convulsing at his words, begging him to stop because something unholy is clearly building up inside of you, but he doesnt care. if anything, he goes faster, finger moving towards your clit as he starts to rub with a painfully blissful harshness.

“such a perfect cunt.. fucking.. tight whore…” his teeth latch onto your neck as he continues to fuck you, wet sounds emitting from both of you and echoing around his office. “made to be bred. arent you?”

your head shots up as he thrusts against your gspot, watching your back arch as he does it once more. “no..! n..no! not ins..inside!” you fight back once more, hands pounding against his shoulders as you cum, crying out in agony while he keeps on fucking you. “please!”

his hand moves up to your throat, annoyed with your writhing and begging, aiming to cum inside you without care for your disarrayed demeanor.

within moments, his thrusts become more and more broken and disorganized. groans are forced into your ear as he pulls you towards him. you feel his cock twitch inside of you as hot cum coats your walls. you moan out, as much as you can with a hand gripped around your throat, before he releases you and allows your coughing fit on his shoulder, falling forward and trying to catch your breath while cum drips out of your full pussy.

a few moments of silence are interrupted as he begins to kiss up and down your neck before lifting you off of him. he smiles at the sound you make when he removes himself from your boycunt. youre lazily cleaned and redressed in a daze.

“i expect to see you at service this sunday, is that clear?” he buckles his pants back.

“..yes, father.”

#ftm girl #detrans kink #cnc k!nk #ftm bottom #ftm ns/fw #religious play #religion kink #religious kink #priest kink #ftm misgendering #detrans r@pe #r@pe play #r@pe fantasy #queer nsft #detrans nsft #nsft asks #queer ns/fw #ns/fw

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