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achilles-rage · 5 months ago

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Stood Up

summary: when your best friend eddie is late to meet you for breakfast, you get worried, and go to his house to check up on him.

word count: 2.4k

request: could i request reader walking in on him jacking off one morning, maybe she’s a colleague and he’s late for work and she goes to check on him having an emergency key or something. obviously underlying feelings but both keep it quiet.

a/n: so sorry this took so long!! i have nothing to say, enjoy<33

warnings: smut, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You feel a little bad about what you’re about to do, but you couldn’t help the nerves pulling you there, to Eddie’s house.

You were supposed to meet for breakfast before work. You’ve been having a bunch of problems with your landlord, and you just needed to vent, so you went to the person you’re closest with. He happily agreed, and secretly wanted to know more about the drama happening in your building. He blames the telenovelas he grew up on.

You started to worry immediately when you realized he was late. You pushed it to the side at first; everyone’s allowed to be late every now and then, but Eddie usually isn’t. It was only after 20 minutes that you decided to call him, just wanting to make sure he was still coming, but he didn’t answer. You stayed for another 10 minutes, then called again, but he didn’t answer again, and that’s when you decided to go to his house and make sure he and Christopher were okay.

He had given you a spare key to his house in case of emergencies, and as you make your way to his front door, you clutch the key tightly in your hand. You knock once, then again, but hear nothing. His car is still in the driveway, so you know he’s still home.

You inhale a deep breath before you finally put the key in the lock and turn the knob. You’re met with an eerie silence, and as you creep further into the house, you notice that Christopher’s school bag isn’t on the hook it usually is. He’s definitely at school then, you think, but where the hell is Eddie?

You make your way down the hallway towards his room when you think you hear a low groan, and you jump slightly in surprise. You feel like you’re in a horror movie, and you’re on edge, but you keep walking silently, key in between your fingers as if it would save you from someone able to take down Eddie.

You hear another grunt when you’re a few steps from Eddie’s closed bedroom door, and you let out a shaky breath. You’re not sure why you haven’t called 9-1-1 yet, rather, choosing to take another step and put your hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly and cracking the door open, just enough to see into the room. Your stomach drops when you finally see what’s got Eddie so late, but it’s not in a bad way. Your shoulders relax slightly, now that you know he’s not in any danger, but you can feel your stomach churning anyway.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his face, contorted in pleasure, his brows furrowed and his eyes closed. Then, your eyes move down to his hand, which is slowly working up and down on his leaking cock. You swallow as you take in the sight, and you squeeze your thighs instinctively as he groans again, his voice dark and raspy. You know you shouldn’t be watching; he’s your best friend, and this is a complete invasion of his privacy, but your eyes are glued to his bare chest and his thighs as soft groans slip past his lips.

It’s not until you hear your name fall from his mouth that you’re snapped back to reality. You feel your mouth go dry. Did he say what you think he just said? There’s no way. He’s your friend; he doesn’t like you like that. You’ve seen his ex-girlfriends, even his ex-wife; you look nothing like them. Your hands start to shake, and this causes your hand to hit the door with a loud thud as you reach down for the doorknob, aiming to close the door and get the hell out of there.

Eddie’s head shoots up as the noise echoes through the room, and you’re suddenly eye to eye with him. His eyes are wide with surprise and embarrassment, and he stands quickly and pulls up his boxers, speaking your name in a breathless whisper. He hopes to anyone that will listen that you didn’t hear what had come out of his mouth a moment ago.

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot, I-” he starts as his eyes widen even further in realization. He was supposed to meet you before work. His abuela decided to come by this morning, and she told Eddie she’d take Christopher to school, and with his mind too distracted by that to remember your plans, he decided to take some time for himself.

“Don’t apologize.” you speak softly, still in a daze as you take a few steps toward him. You push the door open as you continue into the room, your hand still clutching the spare key. All fear you had is completely gone, and now your body is filled with desire.

Eddie sees the look in your eyes, and he licks his lips, weighing out his options. He’s sure you’re not mad at him, and with the way your eyes drift down to his bare chest, he’s pretty sure the friendship will never be the same, anyway. So he goes for it.

He crosses the rest of the space between you two and meets your lips in a desperate kiss, his hands cupping your cheeks. His grip is loose enough that you can pull away if he completely misread the situation, but you don’t. Your hands go to his chest, the key dropping onto the floor, completely forgotten about. His lips paired with the chest hair under your fingers cause you to let out a ragged exhale.

“You want some help with that?” you ask in a teasing tone, suddenly feeling a burst of confidence as you trail a hand down to the waist of his boxers. He smiles against your lips, muttering a quick “if you’re offering” as his hands move down to the hem of your shirt and yours pushes his boxers down his legs. You part from his lips for just long enough for him to lift your shirt off your body, and then his lips crash against yours again.

His hands run up your torso, and he groans, finally able to feel your soft flesh under his hands. He always catches himself staring at you at work, unable to tear his eyes away from your plush middle, thick thighs, and soft chest, but having you here, pushed against him? He can’t imagine anything better.

His hands go to your leggings next, desperate to see the rest of you. You take over for him and push down your leggings, kicking them off as you start to back him up towards the bed. You push him to sit down on the bed, and are quick to take up the space between his legs, kneeling in front of him with wide, almost innocent eyes.

He groans as he holds eye contact, putting a hand on your cheek and then running his fingers down your neck.

“So pretty.” he whispers, although it’s mostly to himself. Your cheeks heat up, but his words fuel you further, and you shuffle closer before you finally take him in your hand. He lets out a soft moan at the contact, and he bites his lips as you pump him a few times.

His hand immediately goes to the back of your head as you finally press your tongue to the head of his cock, teasing him as you circle your tongue around it. He doesn’t try to move your head, not at all, but his hand stays on your head as his breath catches in his throat.

You look up at him and see the desperate look in his eyes, and finally decide to stop teasing him. You finally bring him into your mouth, starting out slow as you get used to the feeling. His grip tightens on the back of your head, and he lets out a loud groan, unable to get anything else out. You keep your eyes on him as you bob your head a few times, trying to see exactly what he likes the best.

He lets out a loud moan as you hum softly around him, throwing his head back as the vibrations move up his spine. You look up at him with a smug look in your eyes before you finally take all of him into your mouth, nose just barely grazing his pelvic bone. You back up as you feel your throat burn, inhaling a shaky breath before you move all the way down on him again, moaning as you feel him twitch against your tongue.

You bring your hand up and move it in time with your mouth, and you can tell by his furrowed brows and heaving chest that he’s close. You pick up the pace, keeping eye contact with him as he looks down at you, and he whispers soft praise as he watches his cock disappear into your eager mouth.

As he’s about to cum, he pulls you away from him, watching with a smirk as you try to catch your breath. You whine softly as you look up at him, desperate to feel his cum on your tongue, but your whine is cut short as he pulls you up.

“Wanna cum with you.” he whispers against your lips, standing up as well and grabbing your hips roughly. You feel yourself getting impossibly more wet as he speaks, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. After a moment, he spins you around and pushes you onto the bed, and as you back up so your head rests on his pillow, he crawls onto the bed and makes his way up to you.

He’s quick to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, then he slides it down your arms and throws it towards the rest of your clothes on the floor. He inhales a sharp breath as he takes in the sight of your round tits, waiting for him to touch and kiss. He brings his mouth down to your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin while he makes his way down to your breasts. He squeezes one with one hand while the other holds himself over your body, and his tongue moves around your other nipple. You tilt your head back as he focuses his attention on your tits, and he continues to kiss and suck on them until he gets impatient and pulls away.

He leans back on his knees, still in between your legs, and reaches for the waistband of your panties. You lift your hips as he pulls them down, biting your lip eagerly as he throws them to the side and then lowers himself onto you again. He grabs the base of his cock and looks down at your core as he rubs the tip across your slick folds.

“You’re so wet already?” he teases softly, and all you can do is whimper desperately, bucking your hips against him. He chuckles, but doesn’t tease you any further. He slides into you easily, groaning in your ear as he bottoms out, feeling you welcome him so nicely.

He gives you a second before he starts to move quickly, knowing that pretty soon, you’d be late for work, and he knows Buck would never let either of them live it down if they both show up late to work looking fucked out.

You grip onto his shoulders as he begins to move, letting out soft moans and whines as you look up at him.

“Thought you stood me up.” you speak after a minute, unsure why you felt the need to tell him right now. His eyes soften at your words, and he brings a hand up to your cheek, running his fingers across it and down your neck.

“Mi amor, I would never, ever, do that. Not to you. Not on purpose.” he tells you seriously, shaky breaths escaping his lips as he tries to divide his attention between your words and how you feel wrapped around him so perfectly.

“Apparently not.” you tease softly, but your soft giggle is cut short when his hand leaves your neck and begins to circle your clit with two fingers. You inhale a sharp breath, which is then cut off by a moan. You reach up and grab his face, pulling his mouth down to meet yours in a passionate kiss. He welcomes it, kissing you with ferver, slipping his tongue past your lips and exploring your mouth.

“God, do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” he groans against your lips, feeling you start to clench around him. His fingers are still drawing steady circles around your clit, and he knows you’re getting close, and so is he.

“Not as long as me, probably.” you joke softly once he pulls away, watching his face as he looks down to how gorgeously you take him.

“I doubt that. You feel so good, baby. So perfect for me.” he murmurs, moaning into your ear as his thrusts become sloppy. Your nails dig into his back as you feel yourself clenching around him, your high quickly approaching.

“You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock?” he purrs, keeping up his pace as he feels himself twitch inside of you. He lets out a breathy laugh as you nod desperately, teetering on the edge. “Come for me, mi amor. I’m right behind you.”

After a few more thrusts, you cum with a loud moan, tilting your head back and squeezing your eyes shut while Eddie’s name falls from your lips. Eddie comes almost immediately, thick ropes of cum filling you up.

He slows to a stop, breathing heavily with his head in the crook of your neck. He presses a couple sloppy kisses to your neck before he pulls out, groaning at the sight of your mixed releases dripping down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“You wanna shower before we have to go to work? I think we’ve got time.” he asks in a smug tone. He gives you one more kiss on the lips before he stands up, holding his hand out for you to take.

“Would’ve had more time if you didn’t stand me up.” you tease, grabbing his hand and letting him pull you up. You can’t believe this is happening. You’ve always had feelings for Eddie, but you never thought they would be reciprocated, despite all the times you’ve caught him staring.

“You’re a brat.” he tells you, smacking your ass playfully as he follows you into the bathroom.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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yushiteru · 4 months ago

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a quiet love

description: yushi x reader (the ways yushi shows you his love around others, very soft physical affection)

i think yushi is the type to be subtle in his affection, partly due to his introverted nature, but also because he values the sincerity in gentle touches and basking in the company of his loved ones. but that doesn’t mean he shies away from expressing his love, not at all.

the actress on the tv let out a choked sob as she tearfully watched her lover walk away. it was supposed to be the saddest scene of the entire episode, if anyone was actually paying any attention.

the living room was abuzz, from sion and daeyoung demonstrating animatedly the baseball game they had gone to see that afternoon, to sakuya and riku who had abandoned their spots on the couch to be their sideline cheerleaders. only ryo remained seated in his spot on the floor, tipping his head back in infectious laughter at their exaggerated dance moves.

the atmosphere in the apartment was lively, everyone winding down from the busy routines of the work day.

you were lounging comfortably on the couch, sandwiched between the arm rest and yushi, his body radiating heat even through his thick hoodie and sweats. both of you preferred to sit back and watch the antics play out, yushi’s members providing more entertainment than the show now forgotten, serving only as background noise.

as if he could sense the shiver about to course through your body from the cool breeze of the cracked open window, yushi reaches across you to grab the blanket folded neatly on the side table. he doesn’t make a big scene of unraveling the plush material, spreading it out, and laying it gently across your lap. the others hardly notice enough to give you two more than a passing glance. he doesn’t utter a word as he tucks in the fabric under your thighs and brings the upper half to wrap around your shoulders. making sure he hasn’t left any gaps uncovered where your limbs could be exposed, his eyes do a quick scan over your engulfed frame before settling back into his original position beside you.

“it’s not even that cold,” you tease him in a quiet voice, even though you secretly love when he frets over you, something you would never admit to him lest he becomes embarrassed.

‘still,” he lets out, the corners of his lips tilting upwards, “you should stay warm.” his voice is soft, but firm as if what he said was a fact, almost as if he found you a little silly for questioning his actions.

“well, if i feel cold, i can always snuggle up with sakuya. he’s like a walking furnace. or a newborn baby.”

yushi’s eyes widen for a split second before processing your humorous tone. he narrows his gaze playfully, as if wordlessly scolding you for your taunting joke. you think that’s the end of it when he turns back to watch the others again, feeling content in the presence of your favorite people, when you feel yushi’s hand slide under the blanket.

he’s still facing the front, calling out to riku that he’s doing the dance wrong, but his hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers, and giving a gentle squeeze as if to remind you again that he’s here and he’s yours.

“babies, bye! don’t push yourselves too hard and stay healthy~!”

you bend down to slip your shoes on in the entryway of the apartment unit, loud echoes of “bye, noona! noona, see you later!” bouncing off the walls from different corners of the home. yushi is seeing you out, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest as he silently takes in the image of you checking and double checking that all your belongings are with you. you’re sure you look a frazzled mess, not having noticed how fast the time had gone by with your boyfriend and his members, and now having to pay the price of rushing out the door to your next commitment.

“okay, i have my keys, my phone, my wallet… i feel like something’s missing though. yushi have you seen my sunglasses i swear i just had – never mind, they’re in my purse. alright, i guess that’s it, i gotta go unless i want to be late – you know how seoyeong is, she might actually kill me this time. make sure to get enough sleep tonight, you have a big day of rehearsals tomorrow! and, make sure saku doesn’t stay up all night on his nintendo switch. i keep telling him, but he never listens. also–,”

your words are rushed, spilling out of your mouth like a running faucet, verbs and nouns colliding into each other until neither are comprehensible. you’re cut off though, by yushi who steps forward, bending his neck down to look you in the eyes.

“okay, yes, okay. will do. y/n you’re gonna be late,” he gently soothes you, crouching down to pick up the purse and umbrella you managed to leave on the shoe bench in your frazzled state. handing you the items, he nudges you to turn around to face the floor length mirror hanging on the wall. silently thanking him, you check your appearance one last time, brushing down any fly away hairs, and adjusting the lapels of your coat. the yells and laughter of the others travel from various rooms, reminding you of the warm welcome that awaits you upon your return.

ss yushi holds the front door open for you, ushering you out like a mother duck with her duckling, daeyoung pops out from the hallway, rushing to get one last goodbye in. as soon as you step over the threshold, however, you’re suddenly pulled back in with a swift tug on the arm. flying around, you come face to face with yushi, who peers down at you through his eyelashes.

“wait… think you forgot something,” he mumbles in a low, hushed voice. just as quickly as he spun you around, he plants a soft kiss on your lips, pecking you once and then a second time. before you can even react or kiss him back, you find yourself past the doorway and into the long hallway of his apartment building. flustered, you open your eyes again to see yushi waving timidly at you from behind the door, ears tinged a soft pink, while checking behind him to see if anyone saw what had just happened.

it's moments like these, when yushi takes you by surprise with his bold affection, that you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. taking a minute to gather yourself, you hear daeyoungie’s loud voice yelling “hyuuung!” knowing it would be only seconds before the rest of yushi’s members start to join in on the teasing.

it was a really rare opportunity that you were given to join the members on their music video filming, allowed to watch behind the cameras as the boys film their scenes. you had never really stopped to think about how many people it takes to film a music video, but you realize pretty quickly it's a lot more than you would think.

the set is busy, directors, makeup artists and costume designers hustling back and forth as they work to make sure every detail is without a flaw. you make sure to find a quiet spot in the corner, out of everybody’s way as you nestle a steaming cup of coffee and admire the perseverance of the members who have been retaking multiple shots over and over since the early hours of the morning.

you don’t think you stood out amongst the crowd. you were invited by a staff member to come as long as you weren’t a distraction to the boys, especially yushi, and taking this responsibility to heart, you stayed quiet and unannounced. it was admirable to see in person just how diligently they worked, and you felt yourself beam with pride at yushi’s passion and determination.

that is, until, the team was given a break to eat and rest before the second half of filming. almost as if your thoughts of him had summoned him, his gaze finds yours from across the studio and you startle, as if you were caught doing something you weren’t allowed to. it takes him a few seconds to register it is actually you he’s seeing before his face lights up and he’s booking it over to you.

his arms raise slightly as if to instinctually pull you in for an embrace, but he lowers them once he’s right in front of you, the hesitance you know is from his shyness around the directors and older staff he respects. instead, he reaches for your elbow, fingers gliding down your inner forearm until they let go at your wrist.

“y/n? how long have you been here? why didn’t you say anything?” he’s smiling like you were the one thing he needed at that moment. “how long are you staying? do you want to come eat with us?”

you mirror his expression, the hustle and bustle of everyone else around you fading into the background. switching the coffee from one hand to the other, you push your hair back from your face, suddenly feeling bashful in his endearment.

“the producer-nim invited me. i didn’t want to distract you.”

“if i knew you were here, i would’ve worked ten times harder,” he jokes.

“you always work hard. i can’t stay for long, you should go eat.” yushi nods at your reminder and leads you to the dressing room where the rest of the members were already serving themselves the food that was catered for them. as you walk in, following closely behind yushi, sion is the first to notice you, exclaiming loudly for the others to see.

once everyone had settled in around the table with their plates and cutlery, the boys wasted no time in bombarding you with questions, wanting to know if you saw them do this and that. you eagerly entertain all their questions, praising everyone for their acting and dancing, and making sure to compliment ryo on how grown up he looked.

as you stood up from your chair to grab some more napkins, yushi reaches behind himself, searching blindly in the air for you as you momentarily stand behind his chair. he takes hold of your forearms, pulling gently forward until you're leaning over his shoulders, arms manually wrapped around his upper chest.

smiling softly to yourself, you take the moment to rest your cheek on the side of his head before starting to pull back to complete your original mission. the presence of the team's staff members nearby making you slightly sheepish at the blatant display of affection from you two. before you can even get more than two inches of distance from yushi, his hands are already flying up to trap your arms in place, gripping firmly as if to tell you, to ask you to stay for just a moment longer.

unable to say no to him, you let him bring your other arm back around his chest, crossing at the wrists, and resting your body weight on his back again. finding your place in the conversation again, you try to hide the fact that your heart was beating a mile a minute, though your bright pink cheeks gave it all away. unbeknownst to you, yushi was sporting the biggest smile anyone had seen on him all day.

a/n: the last scene was inspired by a clip from a live where yushi had done the same to ryo and it made my heart shatter into a million pieces so i had to write something about it :')

#nct wish #yushi #tokuno yushi #nct wish scenario #nct wish imagine #nct wish x reader #yushi scenario #yushi imagine #yushi scenarios #yushi imagines #yushi x reader #tokuno yushi scenario #nct wish yushi scenarios #yushiteru #nct scenarios #nct

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bigtreefest · 8 months ago

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Whatever You Need

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: You want nothing more than couch cuddles with Ari after a long day

Word count: 1,628

Content/warnings: non-sexual nudity, sad vibes but it gets better, comfort, fluff, Ari being so sweet and understanding, soft glances, minimal dialogue

A/N: Literally after two days at my big girl job, I feel dead. This is what I wish I had. Dedicated to all my besties out there who relate.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

You walked through the door Friday evening after what felt like the longest day ever. It wasn’t even a particularly hard day, but you just felt like it was dragging on and on and on, unending, which led to suffering.

You threw your keys unceremoniously on top of your bag, which you had let slip off your shoulder and drop onto the floor, too tired to move with grace. Your shoes had been toed off and kicked any which way, askew in the hall and nowhere near their usual spot.

Without even looking at Ari, you went straight for the bathroom to freshen up and wash your face, clearing the film of the long day away. The small reprieve was hardly a match for the way your feet were swollen from the long time on them, or how your hamstrings ached from the periods of sitting on a chair that seemed to be designed by satan himself in between.

Nothing all day had been comfortable, and at this point, that was all you wanted: comfort. Moving from the bathroom into the bedroom, you stripped each piece of clothing off, leaving them strewn in a path to the dresser where you tried to find something to wear that wouldn’t make you want to try to wiggle and writhe your way out of existence. Something actually comfortable, and soft, and not scratchy, and not tight. As you searched through the drawers, it felt like every single article of clothing you owned was ready to start a fight right now.

At this point, the potential of feeling fresh and clean began to seem elusive, so you dragged your feet over to the hamper, plucking out the oversized sleep shirt from the night before that was still laying on top. You were pleasantly surprised when you gave it a sniff to find it still decent, smelling like your sheets, with a small remnant of Ari from the way you clung to him in bed.

You slipped it over your head, a small glimmer of contentment seeping into you body, along with a fresh pair of undies and socks.

Ari hardly heard you shuffle into the house over the sizzling of the skillet in front of him. Usually, he’d be inclined to treat you to going out on a Friday night, but from your uncharacteristically short texts when leaving work, he knew leaving the house once you got home wasn’t in the cards. He didn’t mind making dinner at all, then, so it would be just about ready as you got home. All he wanted to do was care for you, cater to you on days like this.

As you walked through the door, he turned away from the stove, watching you walk in and drop your things, not even sparing him a glance as you made your way down the hall. He only turned back around to quickly switch off the burner as he waited for you, hips perched against the island and arms crossed, hoping you’d emerge soon. He knew sometimes you just needed time and space, so he would give you for now.

When he heard the soft padding of your socked feet move from bedroom and into the living room, his eyes continued to follow you. He watched you flop down onto the couch, still completely disregarding him. Seeing your legs fly up as your face smashed against the cushions was what he took as his signal to finally approach, very carefully.

Ari walked around the side of the couch, crouching down next to your sprawled form, your one arm and leg hanging off the side, while your face was nuzzled in the crack between cushions. He figured you could hear his steps towards you, but just in case, he took a deep breath and gently placed a large hand on your back as to make you aware of his presence in a non-startling manner. He began rubbing slow, warm circles against your back, over your shirt until you finally tore your head from its hideout and faced him, immediately dropping it back down.

You could see the soft smile on his face that you assumed was an attempt to conceal the worry underneath. His eyes lit up just slightly when they met your one that wasn’t smushed against the plush material.

“Hey, sugar. You okay?”

You lips had been shut from your silence since you’d left work, making you reluctant to unsettle the concealment, so you simply nodded, even though it was far from accurately conveying your true feelings. You watched as Ari’s brow furrowed, belief in your reaction almost nonexistent, but he didn’t verbally say anything, although his face said it all. The corner of his mouth turned up in a tight-lipped quirk, halfway to a grimace of concern. You watched as his deep blue eyes searched your face in contemplation of what to do next. He hated seeing you like this, and the solution to it depended on the day.

“You want dinner? Would that make you feel better? You need to eat?”

This time you actually shook your head, before lifting it once more and turning back to smush your nose flat against your face into the couch. You words came out from the corners of your mouth, slightly muffled but not enough that he couldn’t decipher them.

“No offense, because I’m sure it’s delicious, but I absolutely cannot stand the smell of the kitchen right now. Food is the last thing I want.”

He nodded, his thumb still slightly rubbing your shoulder, hoping the physical touch was doing something to soothe you. What was the next move of things you’d want when you got like this?

“Okay. I can pack it up. We don’t have to eat that. And especially not right now. You want a bath? I can get it started.”

Another shake of the head.

“No. Don’t wanna be wet. Don’t wanna move.”

Ari hummed in thought. You still hadn’t complained about his hand that was now rubbing up and down the expanse of your back.

“Okay, give me a second.”

You simply grunted in recognition, unmoving from your spot as he went to clean up the kitchen and return. You hadn’t even shifted, as he heard no movements besides his own in the quiet house. Ari returned to your side, but didn’t crouch this time.

“Alright, sugar. Turn over.”

He could see you slightly tilt your head towards him, your only visible eye squinting skeptically with a tilted brow, but you complied. Ari moved smoothly, but slowly along with you, lifting your arms up and over his shoulders, and tucking his own hands under the small of your back, trapping his arms against the couch. He moved his hips in between your legs and snuggled in on top of you, placing his ear against your sternum. His head bounced slightly with your scoff of amusement. Good, that meant this was working.

Your arms moved from his shoulders, one going up and the other sliding down until you were petting over his silky hair and scratching his back. It was more of a self-soothing practice than for his enjoyment, although he’d never complain about the feeling of your fingertips roaming over him.

You could feel the rumble of Ari’s chest against your lower stomach as he spoke up again.

“Is this better?”

You just nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see the reaction, but hopefully he could feel the slight movement that came with it.

Your roaming hands began pulling up his shirt, dipping underneath and caressing the the broad, muscular expanse, needing to feel his skin against yours more than you realized. He didn’t judge you though, instantly raising himself so you could pull the fabric the rest of the way off over his head. Sitting on his knees between your thighs, he looked at you again, eyes filled with softness.

“You want me to make you feel good?”

Your response was almost totally wordless again as you shook your head, before you sat up just enough so he could have room to help you remove your shirt, too, your body heavy with reluctance to peel away from the cushions. After he shimmied the soft material over your head, you put your arms under his, pulling him up your body and closer to you. You broke your silence once again, your voice hardly projecting from your throat in a rasp.

“No. Not like how you’re thinking.”

You pulled him down more to settle against you again. This time, his head was tucked into your neck, beard scratching slightly in contrast to the way the soft, bare skin of your torsos was pressed together.

Your hands slid down his back, until they met two plump butt cheeks you were delighted to squeeze. You held them for a second before contentedly drumming in a rhythm only you knew. Ari huffed a laugh, the breeze moving against your hair.

“I don’t think anything could make me feel better than this, right here.”

Your hands traced upward again, one between his shoulder blades, the other scratching his scalp, rewarding you with deep rumbles and soft groans in your ear. It’s not like Ari had anything else planned for tonight, but even if he did, he’d be more than happy to cuddle on top of you with his head tucked in your neck if that’s what you needed.

As he continued to make the delicious moans of satisfaction, a smile finally started creeping onto your face. Feeling him relax in your hold caused you to do the same.

As your eyes finally started fluttering shut from the comfort, no longer blankly staring at the ceiling, you sighed in relief, almost. “Yeah, that’s the stuff.”

Bonus A/N: Am I ready to start my first full week of my job? No. Will posting this make me feel better? If you comment, then yeah, probs.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

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tyrian-witch · 5 months ago

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Some B.S.

(Steve x Reader)

Synopsis: after a dumb fight with your mom, you call Steve to take you away from your troubles

Warnings: not super proof read, mentions of dysfunctional family, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, Steve being an awesome supportive bf

A/N: don’t worry, I’m working on chapter four of In This World of My Own but this was kind of a vent post and I had to write it out :p don’t mind me

~~~

“Hey, can you pick me up?” you say softly through the receiver. “I need to get out of here.”

Your boyfriend clear his throat on the other end. He must have been asleep and now you feel bad for even calling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, half awake. “I’ll be over in ten, is everything okay?” Despite his sleepy state, he didn’t miss the the way your voice cracked; he knew something was up.

Sniffling, you shake your head. “I don’t even- frickinknow at this point.”

“Just hang in there babe, I’m coming to get you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He hangs up and immediately throws on a pair of jeans and his navy blue sweater which he’s come to understand is your favourite one whenever he wears it. Slipping on his shoes, he snatches his keys and jacket, and soon enough, he’s on his way to you.

~~~

Steve’s car is parked a block away from your house, the streetlights illuminating his prized BMW you’ve become so familiar with in the past few years you’ve known each other before dating. You approach the car with your arms tightly crossed against your chest, an action Steve’s come to associate with any time you feel upset about something- not in a childish manner, more so as a gesture of feeling small or remorseful about whatever just transpired, not that it was really your fault. Often, you usually only do it after you’ve had a silly fight with your mom.

Sighing heavily, you sit down in your designated spot next to Steve in the car, the warmth of it enveloping you, along with his scent which has brought you comfort countless times, including tonight. You reach over and give him a big hug and he wastes no time in holding you close to him.

He places a kiss on top of your hair while caressing it.“What’s going on, honey?” he asks softly.

You pull away from the hug and swipe a hand down your face, another sniffle escaping you. “It’s just…” you shake your head in disbelief. “It’s just another one of those- stupid fricking arguments,” you grumble. “Like, I can’t even- like-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he coaxes gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Take your time.”

Curling in yourself, you rest your head against your knees. “Can we drive around for a bit?” you ask, your voice small and timid.

“Yeah, of course babe, where’d you wanna go?” He begins backing out of the parking space, putting a hand behind the head of your seat to make sure nothing was in the way, and then drives forward.

He sees you shrug from the corner of his eye before you answer. “Maybe we could stop for a milkshake?”

“Yeah? A milkshake?”

You nod.

He smiles in adoration. “Okay, let’s get you a milkshake.”

~~~

You end up parked on an empty street with your milkshake of choice in hand, the plastic cup cool against your palms. It makes you shiver, but the rush of sugar lets you ignore the cold sensation. Steve has one of his own, and occasionally you switch between the drinks to get a taste of the other flavour.

“Okay,” Steve starts gently. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”

You nod while sipping on the drink.

He waits patiently as you muster up your words, the soft look in his gaze never faltering.

“Okay, so basically…” you clear the sweet taste from your throat. “What happened… is honestly… so…” you pause in between your words, trying to find the best way to put it into an explanation. “Stupid. It’s just plain stupid.” Throwing your hands up in the air as a tell tale sign of exasperation, you continue. “And the thing is, and- this is honestly so hilarious, it’s the most hilarious thing ever, you’re gonna laugh- I forgot to put mayonnaise on the corn bits that were cut up for my brother!”

Steve blinks once in amazement. “I… what??”

You raise your eyebrows and nod. “Yup.”

“So let me get this straight: your mom got upset at you because you forgot to put mayonnaise on Donnie’s corn?”

“Yeah, and it was an honest mistake that I forgot! I literally forgot and it’s even funnier because I was gonna have my own corn on the cob with mayonnaise and I was ready to warm it up in the microwave! I didn’t even think twice, I just took his plate out when it was done warming up and I brought it to him, and then I was going to put mine in and then my mom saw and that’s when the whole thing happened. Honest to god.” You’re breathing heavily after all the words have spilled out in a rush, trying to make sense of things.

“I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, as if I can’t bring the plate back and add mayonnaise myself. Hell, Donnie can do it himself, he’s ten years old!”

Steve is staring into space as he’s listening; he’s trying to make sense of it too, he’s just as lost.

“Well, that’s not really the point, the point is I know Donnie eats corn with mayo, it’s common sense at this point, but I guess I was just so hungry that I was ready to put my own plate in the microwave. Again: without a second thought. I just forgot! But god forbid if I forget anything, it’s like the end of the fucking world. And it was for Donnie anyways! Not for her! I would understand if he was upset about it, then yeah, okay, but c’mon! Seriously?!”

Taking an angry slurp from your drink, you sink into your seat, feeling more worked up than you were before.

“I mean, yeah I get it,” Steve says, thinking of how to help. “If he was mad, then yeah okay, but it’s not like it couldn’t be fixed. I don’t get why she’s upset. If I was her, I wouldn’t even have you feeling the way you do.” He looks at you and rests a gentle hand on your cheek. “I would never put you through something like this over something so stupid.”

You scoff at the whole situation. “I know. It is stupid. It’s more than stupid, it’s- it’s bullshit!” Something clicks in your mind, and you can’t help but laugh. “She treats me like bullshit! She always always always has something to say! She always judges me and she loves to compare me to my sorry excuse of a dad.” The words roll of your tongue like venomous vigour and contempt, and in the midst of your rambling, Steve’s hand has left your face; he’s learned that when you get this way, it’s best to give you some space, he knows affection will be welcomed back afterwards.

“And obviously when I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, that I could easily fix the problem, she got mad and said that I was patronizing her because I told her the same thing my dad always did: “it’s not a big deal.” Well news flash! It’s not! The world didn’t shut down, did it!? And I’m not my fucking father! I’m not! It’s like she only sees him in me, that’s why she always judges me and never sees me for me. To her, I’m only an extension of him, not separate from him, not as an individual, not as myself, just him.” Your chest is heaving up and down as you try to calm yourself. In a fit of rage, it’s like everything makes sense to you now.

Exhaling sharply, you take your boyfriend’s hand in yours and squeeze before letting go. “It sucks,” you tell him finally. “She’s never understood me. She doesn’t even try. But she’ll actively try to understand Donnie because she sees herself in him.”

You sit in silence for a little while to regain your tranquility, leaning your head against the dashboard. Steve is the first to break the silence.

“You know something?” he asks. “You’re right. It is bullshit. This whole thing is bullshit!”

You perk up at this but don’t say anything - he takes it as a sign to continue.

“It’s bullshit that she doesnt understand you, Y/n. I mean, I understand what that’s like, I mean my own dad is a complete asshole, and my mom well… I don’t know, she’s totally different from yours, but this isn’t about my family issues.” He takes your hands in his, causing you to sit up and take in his words. “It’s bullshit that she doesn’t think you’re a human being who forgets things. Sure, maybe you forget very often, but that’s not even bad. I would never hold that against you ever.”

Biting your quivering lip, you look away to avoid him from seeing your glassy eyes, but he gently tilts your face to look back at him.

“Baby, you are nothing like your dad. Not even a little bit. I know you hate being compared to him, and I’m sorry you’re constantly being misunderstood. I love you for you. I see you.”

Those last few words are what makes you let it all come crashing down as you cry into his chest, hands gripping the navy sweater tightly, hanging on for dear life. Heaving sobs rack through your body and bones as he holds you close to him and kisses the crown of your head, gently caressing your hair.

The milkshakes are long forgotten at this point, and as Steve keeps you close to his heart, he continues to remind you that he understands you, that you are human and make mistakes, simple mistakes like any other. When your crying dies down, you finally give him a kiss. You hadn’t kissed him since you set foot in his car. He kisses you back, slowly and softly, his hands cupping your face as he gingerly wipes away the remaining tears from your red cheeks.

The kiss is your way of telling him ‘thank you for being here, for understanding me’ and in reply, it’s his way of saying ‘I will always be here for you, no matter what.’

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington stranger things #hurt/comfort #fluff #slight angst #slight vent

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quilly72 · 1 month ago

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Hitomi felt her heart pounding. Not 5 minutes ago she had snuck into the secret laboratory and stolen the vials of hormone accelerant. She had planned on just slipping them into her purse and leaving without anyone noticed but she had a hiccup in her plan. A new I term who had caught her off guard and initiated a conversation had thrown her off her time.

She checked her phone the rival company asking if she had secured the product. She didn't even respond as she quickly and quietly slinked to her desk. Halfway there she watched the light sho out and then flicker back on. An alarm barked across the intercom as the doors and windows slammed shut. "This ain't good" she muttered. She tried to make it to her desk to slip the vials into her purse but was cut off when everyone stood up as security rushed into the room. "Everyone put your arms where we can see them and make your way to the edges of the room.

Quickly thinking Hitomi took the vials and shoved them in her bra. One of the vials glancing her bust and scraping it. She rubbed it and buttoned her shirt back up. Adjusting her too as security ushered them forward. They all were ran through a relatively simple security check

Somehow her guard completely missed the three glass vials stuck in her cleavage. Hitomi tried to look as normal as possible. Her eyes darting across the room nervously as she tried to not break a sweat.

"Hitomi" she fieze in place

"please see your attending supervisor. Hitomi shuffled her way over. Her body heating up and pulsating. Something was wrong this wasn't just nerves it was something else she thought to herself. Hitomi followed her guard as he ushered her into a secluded office. Her boss sitting at a desk as he looked over security feeds and charts.

"Hitomi it has come to our attention that one of your division employees was the one to sneak into the laboratory. Hitomi barely breathed they had found her. How stupid could she be to use her own divisions key card

She didn't even make a sound frozen in place. The cold vials sitting under her boobs as they brushed against each other a faint clink escaping her bust. Her boss stared in confusion before brushing it off. "Do you have any idea who could of stolen these vials."

Hitomi broke a sweat her body racing higher in temperature. Her heart pounding. Her skin tingled as her insides churned as if they were brushing against each other. Her chest grew tight but she brushed it off. "No no I can't imagine any one of my employees doing anything that stupid."

Her boss nodded in agreement. "Yeah I guess your right. I still have to ask though. Has anyone been acting weird. Our of character. Taken more breaks than usual"

Hitomi shook her head. Another vial scraping her chest as she did. She grimaced as it dug into her skin. Blood trickling out as she subtly removed the needle from her cleavage. Her chest grew tighter. Her bra strained against her. She could barely breathe as she pushed out words. "No I think one of key cards must of been stolen." She stood frozen still as he nodded again.

Hitomi grimaced. Her cleavage practically trembling. Her shirt was strectching out as she noticed her cleavage bulging over her bra line. "Fuck no this can't be happening not now"

Hitomi still stared at her boss however not cracking.

Her boss turned to her. Hitomi held her breath her cleavage pushing against her shirt ready to burst out at any moment. She made small movements and caved her chest to not reveal her secret right here right now.

"I guess your right. Still your our inside woman if you learn anything let us know."

"yes sir" she nodded. She went to turn the momentum finally growing to be too much.

Her cleavage bounded outward her boobs ginormous. Three buttons flailed outward hitting her boss in the eye as he recoiled in pain. Hitomi bounced with her growth not quite falling back down. She reached her arm up as she caught the vials that were now hurtling throughthe air. The final one poking her in the hand as the liquid seeped in her bloodstream.

She plucked it out of her skin just as it emptied. All three of the vials having unloaded atleast some of their contents. Her boss stood up towering over her as he grew furious"traitor. I can't believe you." Guards get in here now". Hitomi dropped the vials as she flung around the guards rushing in. She raced to the back of the room as she spamsed. Her body growing.

It was as if she was hopping up but not lowering back down. Her boobs bulged over her bra as she struggled to breathe. Her suit sleeves raced up her arms her elbows barely covered. Her pant legs raced up calves as her pants button flung off. Her shirt buttons strained as her suit button flung off hitting another guard.

She escaped their grasp as she tried to run away. One of the guards catching her hand. She turned to face him as she felt another wave of vertigo hit her. "Let me go"

She grew up again. Her bra clung to her skin digging in deeper as her shirt and suit popped off. Her suit tearing along her back as her shirt constrained her. Her butt ripped the seams in the back as her onats turned to capris. The guards stared at the growing woman as she grew stronger and harder to capture.

Hitomi's colleagues watched as she struggled the previously 5' something woman now easily 6' something

Hitomi broke free of the guard as another wave hit her. She nearly lost her balance as she grimaced. Her pants and shirt tearing off her. Her shoulder blades pulling her shirt apart. Her bra snapped one calso as her cleavage bulged to her neck. She duh at the band as it finally popped. Her boobs flinging forward no longer crowding her throat. Hitomi rushed to the door as another wave hit her.

Her back lengthening just as she ran through the door frame. Her forehead landing squarely atthetop. She recoiled back. The crowd gasping In sympathy of the growing woman. Hitomi regained her balance and ducked through the door. The guards now more of a suggestion. "I have to get out of here..."

Hitomi grimaced again. She lurched upwards"when is it going to stop"

Her panties flung to the floor as several coworkers snapped pics and videos. She scowled at them as she tried to cover herself pushing her way through the crowd. Her new height making it was easier as most people barely reached her hips. "Almost there come on..."

Hitomi surged again. She lost her balance as she fell to her knees. Her head narrowly missing the ceiling. She fell to alm4s as she began crawling. Another wave hitting her again. Her legs growing into the crowd. Her boobs swaying back and forth as they nudged people to and from. People began scooching back as she shoved people to the ground "sorry can't control it. I just wanna leave. She crawled towards the door before... She breathed out deeply. Another wave passing her. It was growing faster and larger. Her entire body grew right as her back surged toward the ceiling. Her butt planting itself on top as her knees buckled and squirmed. People began. Rushing backwards as they realized she may not stop. Hitomi ducked her head as another wave hit her. She could barely move as she dropped to her elbows. Her boobs. Pushing her back into the ceiling .. sandwhichinghef in place. " Stop growing" she heard someone call out

"what do you think I'm trying to dooo."

She surged again the ceiling bending. Her legs sprawling out into the crowd as her head Rose above them. People clawed over each other as she further and further. Hitomi reached for the door as another wave forced her back. Her body tensing as she rushed backwards. Her legs knocking people to the ground. Her thighs and hips smashing people against desks and wall. Her head scraped the ceiling as her boobs flattened against the wall. Hitomi laystuck pinned to the ground as she tried pushing her way through the ceiling to no avail.

Another surge hit her as she moaned. Her feet hitting the far end wall as she bent her knees. More muffled screams disappearing under her. Hitomi's head now barely fit in the room as her cleavage spilled out from under her. Her back bending the ceiling up. Another surge cracked the ceiling. Her hips and thighs filling the room barely leaving any space for anyone. "I'm sorry I can't stop fend for yourselves. Another surge opened the ceiling the cool air rushing in. Hitomi tried forcing her way up but failed. Her final surge sent her filling the room. She scrunched into a ball as she struggled for room. Her boobs hip and thighs filling every space. The final muffled scream disappearing under her.

Hitomi breathed her body having relaxed. "I'm done I think I'm done"... But I'm stuck" she huffed as she tried to figure a solution. She smirked as she realized. She bent her foot into what she thought was her boss room before smashing it down. Feeling a cool liquid splash across her as her body tightened again.

#giantess growth #gtsgrowth #giantess

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patrixjia · 28 days ago

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Velvet Chains (Part IV)

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART V, PART VI, FINAL PART

Plot Overview:

Y/N feels betrayed by Chan after discovering something that deepens her distrust of him. This leads to a heated encounter that forces them to confront their emotions and the powerful, unspoken connection between them. Through this, they form an unbreakable bond, ready to face whatever challenges come their way together.

Warnings: BangChan!Mafia, StrayKids!Mafia, Mafia!AU, Mature content, Explicit language, Graphic sexual content, Intense Emotional Themes, Power Dynamics, Consent and Control Issues, SMUT.

Author Note:

Well, here we are—another chapter in the books! I can’t believe how much fun (and chaos) this story has brought me so far. Honestly, it’s been a rollercoaster writing this, and I hope you all are hanging on for the ride. Your support has been amazing, and I’m so grateful for every comment, like, and message. You’re all the best! 💖

And yes, you read that right—the spice chapter is finally here! 🔥 Things are getting intense, and trust me, we’re just getting started! I hope you’re enjoying the story as much as I am. So please, keep the feedback coming—good, bad, or somewhere in between, I’m here for all of it. Can’t wait to see what you think of what’s coming next. Buckle up, it’s going to be a wild ride! ✨

⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆

You’ve already made the promise. You’ve already given your word. You pledged to Chan—no more pretending. No more playing the part of the obedient daughter, standing by your father’s side, pretending that his empire was your future. That future is over. You made your decision when you chose to ally with the Stray Kids Mafia. You chose to help bring down your father’s empire, to help Chan dismantle everything Victor had built so you could rebuild it in your own image. You’ve been living that promise, day by day.

But now—now things feel different.

The report on the screen hits hard. Victor’s empire has taken another critical blow. A key territory lost, and your father’s most trusted allies, those you thought were immovable, have betrayed him. They’ve joined Chan, thrown their loyalty behind him, and now the cracks are wider than ever. Your father’s grip is slipping. You should feel satisfaction, but instead, a cold knot of anger tightens in your stomach.

You knew the war was coming. You knew things would break. You’d always known this was going to end in flames. You signed up for that. But now… now it feels like the fire is burning too fast. And you weren’t ready for the sharp sting of betrayal.

Because hidden in the middle of this intel report is something you didn’t expect—something Chan had kept from you. A secret plan. A major offensive, one so brutal it’s designed not just to weaken your father, but to completely destroy him.

You feel the blood drain from your face as the details flash across the screen. Chan’s plan isn’t just about seizing power—it’s about annihilating your father’s last remaining strongholds, leaving him with nothing but ruin. And Chan kept this from you.

You trusted him. You told yourself that you were in this together. You promised him that you would help him tear your father’s empire apart, brick by brick. You promised him loyalty, but this—this was something else.

You lean forward, hands shaking as you dig deeper into the files, hoping this is a mistake. But it’s not. The timeline matches. This attack is scheduled for the day after tomorrow—when your father will still be reeling from the betrayal, when he won’t be able to mount any meaningful defense. And all the while, you had no idea.

The reality sinks in slowly. Chan has been working on this behind your back. Even after everything you agreed to, he made this decision alone, without consulting you, without bringing you into the fold. There was no partnership here, no shared vision. This was his plan, and you were just a tool he used to get what he wanted.

You can feel the anger swelling in you—sharp, bitter, furious. But beneath that anger is something else. There’s a pang of something you’re reluctant to name, something that cuts deeper than any betrayal. It’s the realization that despite your promises, despite everything you’ve done so far, you are still playing a part in someone else’s game. Chan’s game.

For a moment, the weight of it all presses down on you. You told yourself this was the way forward. This was the future you could shape. But now, standing here with this knowledge, it feels like the last remnants of control you thought you had are slipping away.

You’ve given up everything—your allegiance, your family, your past—for this. And now Chan has taken that trust and turned it into a strategy, a move to consolidate his power, without ever bringing you into the process.

And yet… you still can’t deny it. There’s something about his ambition, his vision, that calls to you. There’s something magnetic about the way he operates, how he always seems to be five steps ahead. You wanted this, didn’t you? To be part of something bigger. To rise above your father’s shadow.

But you didn’t want this. Not like this. Not with him keeping secrets from you.

You grab the file, slamming it closed in frustration, your thoughts racing. You can’t just turn back now. You’ve already made your choice, even if it feels like you’ve lost yourself somewhere in the process. You promised Chan you’d help him tear down Victor’s empire. You promised him that you would walk beside him as an ally, not a pawn.

But now, with this hidden plan, with this secret attack, you’re not sure where you stand anymore. How much of your control has been an illusion all along?

You have a choice to make. Stay loyal to Chan and see this through, even if it means continuing to help him destroy everything you once held dear… or walk away, trying to salvage whatever is left of your family’s legacy, even if that means betraying the promise you made.

But in your heart, you know. There’s no turning back. You’ve already crossed the line.

You stand in front of the computer, your fingers hovering over the keys as the weight of your decision crashes over you. Chan’s plan, the one he kept hidden from you, is more than just strategic—it’s personal. You promised him you’d help him take down Victor’s empire, but what you didn’t know was that Chan had been preparing for a move that would change everything, and he didn’t share it with you.

It feels like betrayal. You’re not just another player in his game, but that’s how he’s treated you. And it pisses you off. You wanted to make your own choices, to decide how far you’d go. Not be caught in the middle of a game you didn’t agree to.

So you act. You start working to warn your father’s allies, to slow Chan’s plan down. This isn’t just about strategy anymore; it’s about you taking control of the narrative, about reclaiming your autonomy in this twisted situation.

But as the message is ready to send, you hear the door creak open behind you. The soft, familiar sound of his presence fills the room, and your stomach flips, caught between anger and something far more dangerous.

Chan’s footsteps are silent as he approaches, his gaze locking onto you the moment you turn. “What are you doing?” His voice is calm, but the undercurrent of something darker flows just beneath it.

You stand your ground, refusing to show any sign of hesitation. “Trying to stop you,” you say, your voice clipped. “You kept this from me, Chan. This move of yours, it’s reckless. It’s personal. You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t care?”

He steps closer, his gaze flickering over your face. “I never wanted you to be part of this from the start,” he says, his voice softening just enough to show the sincerity behind his words. “You’re not supposed to feel anything. You’re supposed to help me bring this empire down. Help me take control of what’s left.”

You scoff, the anger rising again. “You think I can just throw away everything I know, everything I’ve worked for, and help you destroy my own father’s empire without a damn word about it? Without even telling me what you’re planning? You lied to me, Chan. You hid things from me.”

His eyes darken, but there’s no defensiveness in his expression. Instead, there’s something else—something almost regretful, and a flicker of vulnerability that catches you off guard. “I didn’t hide it because I don’t trust you. I hid it because I didn’t want you to feel like you had to make a choice. This is more than just strategy, Y/N. It’s survival. It’s about taking down what’s broken. But I never wanted to put that weight on you. Not like this.”

You turn away, frustration bubbling inside you. The way he says it—like he’s trying to protect you from the mess he’s made. You hate it. You don’t need his protection. But still, that trace of vulnerability in his voice sticks with you.

“I don’t need your protection,” you murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I never asked for it.”

Chan moves behind you then, his presence engulfing the space between you. He leans close, the warmth of his body radiating against your back as he places a hand on the desk, trapping you between it and him. “I know you didn’t ask for it. But you’re still here,” he says, his voice low and dangerously close to your ear. “You’re still a part of this. You always have been. And the moment you decided to side with me, you stepped into something bigger than either of us.”

You shiver, your body instinctively reacting to his proximity. The tension between you both crackles, not just from the unspoken words but from something much deeper, much more dangerous. This isn’t just about power or control anymore. It’s about everything that’s simmered between you both, everything that’s been building up.

“You never gave me a choice,” you bite out, but even as you say it, you can feel the heat pooling low in your stomach. His voice, the way he touches you without touching you, makes it hard to focus on the anger.

“I never wanted to give you a choice,” he murmurs, his breath warm on the side of your neck. “I wanted you with me. Because of you, not just your help. You’re not just part of this plan, Y/N. You’re my plan.” His lips brush against your skin as he speaks, sending a rush of heat through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

The words, the closeness, it’s all too much. It makes the space between you feel impossibly small, and you find yourself leaning back into him instinctively. You’re still angry, still frustrated, but something else is rising too. Something that’s impossible to ignore.

“I’m not just yours to control, Chan,” you breathe, your voice trembling with the weight of your words.

“No,” he agrees softly, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “But you will be. You’ve already made that choice, Y/N. The moment you decided to work with me, you were part of this. Whether you like it or not.”

You meet his gaze, fire and frustration burning behind your eyes, but the undeniable chemistry, the magnetic pull between you, is more than you can handle. His fingers slide up your back, teasing the edge of your shirt, and you shiver at the sensation. You want to push him away, to tell him to stop, but you can’t. Not when his touch makes every nerve in your body hum with need.

“I’m still angry,” you say, your voice low, but there’s something else beneath the words—something raw. “I’m still pissed off that you kept this from me.”

“I know,” he replies, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw. “But you’re also here, Y/N. And I can’t ignore the way you’re looking at me.”

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a kiss that’s softer than the fury of your words, but no less intense. The kiss deepens as he pulls you closer, and you lose yourself in the heat of it—the way he holds you like you’re the only thing that matters.

Your mind still rebels against the way he’s controlled so much of this, but your body? Your body is telling you something else. Something deeper, something more primal.

And as his hands slide under your shirt, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is the only way forward for you both—surrendering not just to what he’s offering, but to the fire that’s been building between you from the moment you met.

You break the kiss, your breath ragged, chest rising and falling in quick succession. The taste of him lingers on your lips, but your mind is screaming at you to pull away—to regain control before you lose yourself completely. You shove him back, though the force feels half-hearted, your hands trembling as you push against his chest.

“Stop,” you rasp, your voice sharp as you take a step back, putting a little distance between you both. Your pulse is still racing, the tension between you palpable, but there’s something else now. Something heavier.

Chan doesn’t immediately pull away, his expression unreadable, but his eyes, those dark eyes, burn through you. His jaw is clenched, and for a moment, he looks like he’s considering something dangerous. But he doesn’t give in to the silence.

“So that’s it?” His voice is low, almost taunting. “You’re just going to walk away now? After everything?”

You shake your head, trying to steady your breath, to reclaim some semblance of the control you need. You didn’t come here to let him break you—not like this, not when you still haven’t made a damn decision.

“No,” you say, your voice firmer, but your words feel hollow in the thick air. “I’m not walking away. But I won’t just let you manipulate me, Chan.”

He steps closer again, the space between you shrinking until you’re forced to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. You’re standing on the edge, the pull of him undeniable, but this time, you don’t feel like you can trust yourself around him.

“I’m not manipulating you,” he replies, his voice smooth, almost soothing—but you can hear the edge beneath it. “But I am challenging you. You think this is just about your father’s empire, but it’s not. This is about us. About what we really want.”

You feel your throat tighten, and for a moment, you hate that he’s right. You told yourself you could keep pretending, keep being the cold, calculating player in this game. But here you are, letting yourself be swept away by him, caught between your promise and something much more dangerous.

“Don’t,” you murmur, even as your body betrays you, the heat between you both still crackling in the air. “Don’t pretend this is about anything but power, Chan. You want control. You’ve wanted it from the moment you walked into my life.”

Chan doesn’t flinch at your accusation, his lips twitching into a small, knowing smile. “I’ve always been about control. You should know that by now. But you, Y/N… You think you’re just playing the game. You think you’re in control. But deep down, I think you’re afraid of what will happen when you finally admit you’re not.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. Instead, something inside you shifts. The way he’s looking at you, the way he sees right through your defenses—it’s unsettling. But it’s also… freeing. The truth of it makes your chest tighten, the sharp pang of desire mixing with something else you can’t quite name.

“I’m not afraid,” you say, but the uncertainty in your voice makes it clear you’re lying.

He steps even closer now, until his chest is barely a breath away from yours, and you have to fight the urge to close the gap yourself. The heat between you both is suffocating, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you stand your ground, your eyes meeting his.

“You are afraid,” he says softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The touch is gentle, but it holds an undeniable possessiveness. “You’re afraid of what’s between us. Of how much you want this, even when you try to convince yourself you don’t.”

The proximity, the way he moves so effortlessly around your defenses, makes your head spin. It’s no longer just about power, about control—it’s about something raw and visceral, something that both repels and pulls you in. You try to fight it, but his words make your pulse race in a way you can’t ignore.

And then, before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches up, gripping the front of his shirt. The motion feels like a betrayal of your own resistance, but it’s also a challenge. You’re testing him. Testing yourself.

“Is this what you want, Chan?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries the weight of everything unspoken between you. “To control me? To make me want you, even when I hate myself for it?”

He doesn’t hesitate, his hands cupping your face gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “No. I don’t want to make you hate yourself. I want you to choose this, Y/N. I want you to stop pretending like you’re above it all. Like you’re not as deep in this as I am.”

Your breath hitches as his thumbs brush against your lips, his touch somehow both comforting and igniting the spark of something far more dangerous. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” you whisper, your voice cracking with the intensity of your emotions.

“I know,” he murmurs, leaning in until his breath mingles with yours. “But I think you’re ready for it.”

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, but this kiss is different. It’s not just about power anymore, not just about strategy. It’s about surrender—and about what happens when two forces collide and can’t pull away.

You kiss him back, your hands grabbing at his shirt, your body responding before your mind can catch up. The last of your resistance falters as his hands slide around your waist, pulling you against him. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, and for a moment, nothing else matters. The rest of the world disappears, leaving only the two of you tangled in this chaotic, electric moment.

And then, just as quickly as it started, you pull away again. The air between you both is charged, but the space feels like it’s closing in. You can’t keep pretending you’re in control of this. The game, the rules, the power—it’s all slipping through your fingers. And for the first time, you realize you don’t want to stop.

“Don’t fight it, Y/N,” Chan says, his voice low and commanding. “You don’t have to. Not anymore.”

You meet his gaze, feeling the shift between you both. It’s no longer just about winning. It’s about something more. And as the last remnants of your resistance crumble away, you know there’s no going back.

You swallow, the weight of his words sinking into your chest. You’ve fought him, resisted, told yourself you wouldn’t fall into this. But standing here, under the heat of his stare, you realize the truth. You’ve been fighting the wrong battle.

The power dynamic has always been tangled between you two, each of you playing the game in your own way. But now, as he stands so close to you, his hand lightly grazing your arm, you feel the last of your defenses crumble. It’s not a defeat. It’s a choice.

You glance away, as if avoiding the full force of what you’re about to let happen, but Chan is already stepping into your space. His fingers find the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his gaze once more. There’s no more cold calculation in his eyes, no more power plays. There’s something softer now. Something dangerous, but intimate.

“You think you can keep pretending?” His voice is quieter now, but it cuts through you like a knife. “You don’t have to fight anymore, babygirl. I know what you want.”

His words hit like a spark to tinder. Something inside you flares up, but it’s not anger. It’s not defiance. It’s something darker, more vulnerable. The heat in your chest blooms into something fiercer, more immediate. He sees through you—sees all of it—and in some way, it’s both terrifying and thrilling.

You try to look away, to push him back, but his grip tightens slightly, pulling you closer. Your bodies press together, the heat of his chest against yours. Your hands, trembling, move to his shoulders, but it’s not to push him away anymore. It’s to feel him, to steady yourself against the flood of emotion that’s rising.

“I don’t need this to be easy, Y/N,” he says, his voice low, but filled with something you can’t quite name. The words are a challenge, a dare, but you don’t know if you have the strength to refuse.

But you try, because that’s what you’ve always done. You push against his chest, just enough to create a sliver of space between you. “I’m not some plaything, Chan,” you manage, but your voice cracks, the lie obvious to both of you.

A dark smile curves his lips, and you feel a shiver race down your spine. “I never said you were,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. “But you sure like to make things difficult. Don’t you?”

The space between you narrows, his lips brushing against yours, a whisper of a kiss that makes your pulse race. You feel yourself leaning into it before you can stop. There’s no going back now.

You suck in a breath, hands still gripping his shirt, your fingers trembling as you try to steady yourself. The room feels small now, the air thick with the tension that’s been building between you two. And for the first time, you realize how close you are to surrendering completely.

“I won’t be one of your pawns, Chan,” you whisper, but the challenge in your words is fading. You don’t have the strength to keep it up.

His lips press against yours in a kiss that’s deeper, harder, as if he’s taking all the answers you won’t say aloud. One of his hands slides down to your waist, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he wants to erase any remaining distance.

The kiss deepens, and something inside you snaps. The fight, the need for control—it slips away like sand between your fingers. You know you’re giving in, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like losing. It feels like choosing.

Chan pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his lips hovering over yours. “You’re mine now,” he murmurs, his voice a promise. There’s no doubt in his words, no question. He’s claiming you, but it’s not in the way you expected. It’s not forceful. It’s simply… inevitable.

Your breath catches as you meet his gaze. “I’m not some thing to own,” you reply, but it’s not a challenge anymore. It’s a question. You’re asking if this is real, if this is something that could be more than just this moment. But you already know the answer. He’s pulling you under, and you’re allowing it.

Chan’s hand moves to the back of your neck again, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “You’re mine in every way,” he says softly, the words sending a ripple of heat through you. “But you’re also free, Y/N. You’ve always had the power.”

His lips find yours again, and this time, you don’t resist. The kiss is softer now, almost tender, but still charged with that wild energy that neither of you can deny. His hands roam over your body, the touch possessive but gentle, a silent reminder that you’re not just a victim in this game. You’re a willing participant.

“You don’t have to fight it,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your back. “Let go. Let me take care of you.”

The words sink deep into your chest, and you feel something inside you loosen. The last of your resistance falls away, and for the first time, you let yourself truly feel everything—the heat, the hunger, the tension between you both. It’s not just about desire anymore. It’s about something more complex, something more intimate. It’s about connection.

“I’m not afraid,” you breathe, meeting his gaze once more. “But I’m not in control anymore, am I?”

His lips curve into a smile, dark and knowing. “No. But that doesn’t mean you’re weak.”

You feel the shift now, the power dynamic changing, ebbing and flowing between you both. But in this moment, it’s not about who has the power—it’s about giving into it, about allowing yourself to be taken by him and by this thing between you.

And when he kisses you again, this time, you don’t just yield. You give him everything, because you know you can. The tension between you two shifts, and as his lips claim yours with a hunger that mirrors your own, you realize this is the moment—the moment where you stop pretending you don’t feel this.

His hands move over your body with deliberate slowness, tracing the lines of your form as if savoring each curve. There’s an intensity to his touch, an ownership, but it’s not cold. It’s heated, possessive, like he’s learning the feel of you for the first time, yet somehow, he already knows exactly where to touch. His fingers are light but firm, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed flush together.

“Don’t act like you’re in control,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The playful teasing in his voice isn’t lost on you, and you know—he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. But there’s an undeniable dominance to his tone, a reminder of the power he holds. “You wanted this all along.”

You hate that he’s right, but at the same time, you feel a rush of exhilaration. You wanted this. The subtle push and pull of control, the friction between his dominance and your independence. It’s more than a battle of wills—it’s a dance.

With a sharp tug, he pulls you even closer, his lips brushing against your neck, and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. The heat between you intensifies, and with every brush of his lips, you feel your own self-control begin to slip further. He hasn’t stopped moving, hasn’t stopped claiming space—his hands sliding over the smooth skin of your back, pushing you to lean into him more, as if your bodies belong together.

For a moment, you lose yourself in the sensation. You’re not thinking, not strategizing. There’s no longer a game being played between you two. But then you catch your breath, regaining some clarity, and you pull back just enough to look into his eyes.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to play, Chan,” you say, your voice low, but there’s a steel to it—an edge you’re not quite ready to give up. You push at his chest, just enough to create some space. “You think you can control me, but I’m not some toy for you to bend to your will.”

Chan smirks, his expression dark and unreadable, but there’s an intensity there that speaks volumes. He leans in again, his lips brushing against yours with a quiet force. “I never said you were a toy, Y/N. But you’ve always liked the game, haven’t you?” His words are a challenge, an invitation. “Tell me, babygirl, how far will you let me push you?”

A surge of something sharp rushes through you—defiance, desire, frustration. You tilt your chin up, a slight smile curving your lips as you meet his gaze. “I’ll let you push me as far as I want, Chan. But remember this—I’m still in charge of my own choices.”

His hand moves to your waist, the pressure increasing as he pulls you back into him, the proximity so close you can feel the rapid thrum of his pulse against your skin. “You can say that, but your body’s already betraying you.” His lips graze your throat again, sending a rush of heat through you. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

You feel your resolve begin to crack, but you refuse to let him see it fully. You want this fight to be mutual, even if the lines between control and surrender are starting to blur. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him into another kiss, this time more urgent, more desperate.

“Don’t mistake my resistance for weakness, Chan,” you murmur against his lips, though the words are as much for yourself as they are for him. “I know exactly what I want.”

His grip on you tightens, the sound of your breath mingling as you struggle to keep control of the moment, but it slips through your fingers, piece by piece. His hands wander lower, and you can’t help but arch into him, the heat of his touch making every part of your body ache for more. He senses your response, his smirk growing even more dangerous.

“You’re right,” he whispers, his voice dropping an octave as he presses his lips against your ear. “You know exactly what you want. And right now, you want me.”

You shiver, your body reacting to his words before your mind can catch up. But even as your body surrenders, you refuse to let him think he’s completely won. Not yet. Not entirely.

“You’ve underestimated me,” you whisper back, your voice laced with defiance, but even you can hear the cracks forming. “You’ve only seen one side of me, Chan.”

His gaze sharpens, as if he’s intrigued, his lips curling into a dangerous grin. “Then show me, babygirl. Show me everything.”

With that, the moment shifts again, like a spark igniting the last piece of resistance in you both. Chan’s hands are everywhere now—caressing, exploring, tracing the fire burning beneath your skin. The air is thick with need, the space between you electric as your body finally gives in to the demands you’ve been ignoring for too long.

But just as quickly, he pulls back slightly, his lips hovering over yours, his breath ragged. His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them possessively, pulling you against him once more. “You think you’re still in control?” he murmurs, his voice barely a breath. “You’re not, Y/N. You’re already mine.”

The words send a thrill through you, and for the first time in a long while, you let go completely, leaning into him, giving yourself over to the rush of desire, of power slipping away and surrender taking its place.

"I’m my own person, Chan,” you say, your hands slipping under his shirt, exploring the firm muscles of his abdomen, the heat of his skin only intensifying your desire.

His lips graze your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he murmurs, “But look at you, babygirl. So eager, so beautiful, so fucking mine.”

You couldn’t help but let a soft gasp escape as his words hit you. It was as if he could control your very pulse with just a few utterances. His touch, deliberate and slow, was a force that made you feel things you’d never let yourself before.

With a purposeful ease, he slipped your shirt off, the fabric falling away like a whisper, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, lifting you effortlessly and placing you onto the desk. The movement was fluid, intimate, and powerful—his body positioning himself between your legs with an unspoken dominance that made your heart race.

He cupped your face gently, his fingers tender against your skin, pulling you into his gaze. “Let me in, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Stop fighting it. Let me take care of you. Let me show you what it feels like to be cared for, to be wanted. Let me in… let us be something more than the chaos around us. Don’t fight what’s been between us from the start. Let yourself fall with me. Give us a chance.”

"I’m scared,” you admit, the truth slipping from your lips, a vulnerability you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice before. “Knives and guns are easy, but feelings… feelings aren’t.”

His gaze softens at your confession, a tenderness in his eyes as he leans in, pressing soft kisses along your neck, each one igniting a spark of warmth against your skin. His hands move with purpose, gently unhooking your bra, his touch slow, deliberate.

“I know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “But I’ll catch you. Trust me.”

In that moment, all the fear, all the uncertainty, melts away. You trust him, even if it feels like a leap into something you can’t fully comprehend. You lean back onto the desk, pulling him closer, and as you toss your bra aside, you kiss him deeply, feeling the heat between you grow with each passing second. The closeness, the skin-to-skin contact, sends a shiver through your body, and you can’t help but want more.

He trails soft kisses down your neck, his lips brushing lower over your collarbone, while his hands find your breasts, teasing your nipples with skilled precision. The sensation has your back arching instinctively, a gasp escaping your lips as your eyes flutter shut. You feel the curve of his smirk against your skin, smug and irresistible.

“So responsive, baby,” he murmurs, his voice laced with that signature arrogance. If you weren’t already undone by him, you might have had a clever retort to put him in his place. But right now, you let it slide, too lost in the way he’s unraveling you piece by piece.

His mouth travels lower, lips grazing over the swell of your breast before capturing your nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. His hands don’t stay idle, exploring every curve of your body until his fingers hook onto the waistband of your pants. As his mouth continues its torturous focus on your left nipple, he starts to slowly unzip your pants, the sound sharp and tantalizing in the quiet room.

As he slowly slides your pants down your legs, his lips follow the path of exposed skin, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses down your abdomen. Each touch of his mouth draws quiet moans from you, and your breath comes quicker, chest rising and falling as he takes his time savoring you.

When his lips finally reach your thighs, you bite down on your bottom lip, the sensation overwhelming. It feels like he’s worshiping every inch of your body, a reverence you’ve never known before. The tenderness of it is intoxicating, and yet it’s paired with an intensity that makes your heart race.

He hooks his fingers under your panties, sliding them down in one deliberate motion, leaving you bare. His hands grip your thighs, firm and commanding as he parts your legs, presenting you fully to him. You feel your cheeks flush at the way his eyes darken, hunger and desire flashing across his face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice a low growl, every word heavy with possession. “So goddamn mine. You hear me? Mine.”

The finality in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, and your stomach twists in a way that leaves your mind hazy. But you’re not one to surrender without a fight. You meet his gaze with defiance, biting your lip without realizing it, and manage to say, though your voice trembles, “You wish I was yours.”

His smirk is devastating. That cocky, arrogant, infuriatingly attractive bastard. He leans down between your thighs, his breath warm against your core, and you tremble beneath him. His voice drops, the rasp sending shivers over your skin.

“The fact that you’re dripping all over my desk, but still trying to deny it? That’s a contradiction, babygirl.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is on your pussy, hot and relentless. He licks and sucks at your clit with precision, his tongue drawing circles that send you reeling. Your back arches off the desk, a moan escaping your lips as your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the strands as you gasp his name. The sensation is too much and yet not enough, and all you can do is give in to the fire he’s ignited.

As if the relentless attention of his mouth wasn’t enough, his fingers glide into you, two of them slipping in with an ease that makes your breath hitch. He moves them slowly, deliberately teasing, curling them just enough to drive you mad. The rhythm is torturous, every stroke lighting a fire in your core but never letting it burn fully. You mewl in frustration, your hips bucking instinctively against his hand.

“Chan, please—” The plea escapes before you can stop it, raw and breathy, and he chuckles against your thigh, the sound dripping with amusement.

“Are you begging, baby?” His voice is a mix of mockery and arrogance, so maddeningly confident that it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

It’s then that you notice he’s still fully dressed. Not a single button of his shirt undone, his belt still firmly in place. The realization strikes you like lightning—this is a power play. He’s in control, and he wants you to know it. He wants you to beg, to surrender entirely to him.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you’re ready to give in. You feel it in every trembling inch of your body. You need him, need him inside you, need this unbearable tension to snap. Your skin is alive with sensation, tingling with a desperate, aching need.

But defiance dies hard. You bite your lip, forcing your voice steady despite the heat pooling in your belly. “If I beg,” you say, a challenge in your tone, “will you finally skip the foreplay and actually fuck me like the man you claim to be? Or is all this just for an ego boost?”

Your words earn you a sharp slap to your core, the sting sending shockwaves through you. You gasp, whining as your back arches off the desk, the delicious mix of pain and pleasure robbing you of air.

“Language, babygirl,” he warns, his voice dangerously low. His fingers don’t stop their torturous pace, keeping you right on the edge. “Now, be a good girl and tell me what you want. Maybe—just maybe—I’ll give it to you, but only if you ask nicely.”

The smugness in his tone should make you furious, but instead, it unravels you. Every nerve in your body is screaming for him, for release, for everything. You know you’ve lost the upper hand, but in this moment, you don’t care.

In that moment, you did something you’d never done with anyone before—you swallowed your pride. The words tumbled from your lips, raw and unfiltered, so desperate they almost startled you. “Please, I—please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside me. I need you, baby. Please.”

The vulnerability in your voice ignited something primal in him. His control snapped. His hands flew to his belt, unbuckling it with a speed that made your breath hitch. His pants and boxers slid down his legs in one smooth motion, and as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you mercilessly, his other hand moved to unbutton his shirt.

Finally, you saw him—completely bare—and the sight stole what little breath you had left. Broad shoulders, a sculpted chest, abs defined like carved stone, and then your eyes dropped lower. The sight of his cock—long, thick, the tip flushed and glistening—made your mouth water.

“You’re staring, love,” he teased, his tone dripping with cocky arrogance.

And for once, you didn’t care. Let him gloat, let him know. You couldn’t tear your eyes away even if you tried. When you finally looked back up at him, your voice came out soft, almost pleading. “Kiss me, please.”

Something shifted in his gaze—softened. He saw it, the emotions swirling inside you. Overwhelmed, conflicted, yet undeniably drawn to him. He understood. This wasn’t just physical—it was everything.

He leaned down slowly, his face inches from yours, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then to the bridge of your nose. Finally, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll kiss you, baby. As many times as you want, as many times as it takes for you to understand you’re mine. And whether you like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.”

Then he kissed you. Not with urgency, but with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. The world faded, leaving just the two of you.

As his lips moved against yours, his hips followed suit. You felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, sliding in slowly, inch by agonizing inch. The stretch was intense, your body adjusting to accommodate him. You moaned into his mouth, your hands searching for something to hold onto, but before you could, his fingers found yours. He intertwined them, holding your hands down gently on either side of your head, grounding you.

He broke the kiss but stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as he stilled, giving you time to adjust. His first thrust was slow, deliberate, and so deep it left you gasping.

The sensation was overwhelming. “S-so big,” you whimpered, your voice trembling, trying to convey how full you felt.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and gravelly. “Relax for me, baby. You’re squeezing me so tight I might not last. Let me know when you’re ready, yeah?”

His voice, gentle yet commanding, sent a shiver down your spine. You closed your eyes, focusing on the way his body felt against yours, how perfectly he fit, and the quiet reassurance of his presence.

After a few moments, you nodded, giving him the silent permission he needed. He kissed you again, deeply and tenderly, as his hips began to move. The first few thrusts were slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second. Your moans were swallowed into the kiss, his lips soft yet insistent against yours, his hands still intertwined with yours, grounding you to the moment.

It felt too good—your body responding to his every move, your walls fluttering around him with every inch he gave you. The sensation pulled a low, guttural groan from him, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you. He broke the kiss just enough to nip at your lower lip, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, babygirl,” he rasped, his eyes falling shut, overwhelmed by the way you clenched around him. “So fucking good for me.”

His words sent a shiver racing down your spine. Something in the way he said them, the way he claimed you with every breath, made you want to give him more. You wanted to be good for him—you needed to. The rough, primal groans that escaped his throat were intoxicating, and in your haze, the only thought that came to you escaped your lips in a breathless moan:

“Harder.”

His eyes snapped open at your plea, dark and hungry. A smirk curved his lips, but there was something raw behind it. “You want harder, baby?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, even as his grip on your hands tightened.

You nodded, too lost to care how desperate you sounded. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Harder, Chan.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Hold on to me, then,” he murmured, leaning in close until his forehead pressed to yours again. And then he gave you exactly what you asked for.

And he gave it to you good. Harder. Rougher. Each powerful thrust left you gasping, your moans growing louder and more desperate. Words became impossible to form—every coherent thought shattered by the way he moved, the way he claimed you completely. But you didn’t need words; the sound of your cries, your trembling body, said everything.

The effect you had on him was evident. His darkened eyes, his jaw tight with control, and the guttural groans slipping from his throat spoke volumes. Still, he wanted to give you more.

His hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit effortlessly. His fingers moved in slow, firm circles, the sensation so overwhelming you arched your back off the desk. A ragged gasp tore from your throat as he smirked down at you, the arrogance on his face only fueling your desire.

His other hand moved to your neck, his grip firm but careful—not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to remind you who was in control. The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, your head falling back, eyes rolling as the growing coil in your stomach threatened to snap.

“So. Fucking. Beautiful,” he growled, each word punctuated by a deep, brutal thrust that hit every sensitive spot inside you. His voice was rough, raw, and filled with a reverence that made you tremble. You could feel your body teetering on the edge, his touch and words stripping you of everything but the overwhelming need to fall apart for him.

When he hit that devastatingly sweet spot deep inside you, it was as though the world tilted. Your vision blurred, your breathing hitched, and every nerve in your body threatened to snap. “I’m gonna—” you tried to warn him, but the words dissolved into a cry, a moan that seemed to echo through the room. He didn’t need you to finish—he could feel it in the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook uncontrollably.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with raw desire, and as if on command, your body gave in. The coil inside you unraveled violently, pleasure washing over you in waves so intense your thighs trembled, your toes curled, and his name spilled from your lips like a mantra.

But he didn’t stop.

His relentless thrusts didn’t falter, prolonging your orgasm as he kept applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit. The sensation teetered between euphoria and overstimulation, leaving you trembling beneath him. Your breaths turned ragged, your voice breaking into a pleading whimper. “Chan— t-too much—”

He ignored your protests, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. His dark eyes burned with hunger, his focus entirely on you.

“You can take it, sweet girl,” he rasped, leaning in to kiss you hard, his lips swallowing your cries. His pace stayed steady but sloppy now, his thrusts deeper, harder, as though chasing his own release.

“One more,” he murmured against your lips, his voice both commanding and tender. “Give me one more, baby. You’re so beautiful when you fall apart on my cock—just one more.”

His words wrecked you, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body. Your head spun, tears slipping from your eyes as the intensity pushed you toward another peak. And when he angled his hips just right, thrusting deeply, your body betrayed you again.

This orgasm hit like a tidal wave, blinding and all-consuming. You gasped, your body arching off the desk, thighs locking around him as your walls clenched tight, gripping him like a vice. Your vision blurred white, your mind going blank except for the feeling of him filling every part of you.

“Fuck—look at you,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he felt you squeeze him tighter, harder. His rhythm faltered, and when you tugged him into a kiss—fierce, desperate, full of everything you couldn’t say—it shattered what little control he had left.

With a guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips so hard you knew you’d wear his marks for days. His release hit, warm and overwhelming, as he filled you completely. His forehead pressed against yours, breaths mingling, both of you trembling and wrecked, caught in the aftermath of something far more than just physical.

He didn’t pull away right away. Instead, he stayed close, his lips trailing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw and neck, grounding you as your breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps. His touch, once so commanding, now moved gently across your skin, fingertips tracing soothing patterns along your sides.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice low and tender, filled with a care that made your chest ache. “Ride it out, baby. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

His words wrapped around you like a cocoon, and you found yourself melting further into his hold. He kissed your temple, his thumb brushing across your cheek to catch the tears you didn’t realize were still there.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his gaze searching yours, full of concern despite the haze of his own release.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your voice too shaky to form words yet. He stayed where he was, his forehead resting gently against yours, his hands never leaving your skin as he let you come down from the intensity of it all.

When your breathing evened out, he eased back slightly, only to cup your face in his hands, studying you like he wanted to memorize every detail. “You’re incredible,” he said softly, his tone so sincere it made your stomach flutter.

He pressed a final kiss to your forehead before gently lifting you off the desk and carrying you to the couch nearby. Settling you down carefully, he grabbed his discarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders to cover you, his hands tucking it around you like a blanket.

“You just sit here for a minute, okay?” he said, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I’ll get you some water.”

As he moved, you watched him, still processing the shift between you. His touch, his care—it wasn’t just about power anymore. There was something more in his actions, something that left you feeling exposed but safe at the same time. When he returned with a glass of water, he crouched down in front of you, offering it as he met your gaze.

“You did so good, baby,” he said, his voice steady, soothing. “Take a sip, then tell me how you’re feeling.”

You took the glass from him, your hands still trembling slightly, and drank. The coolness steadied you, and you looked back at him with a small smile. “I feel… better,” you said softly, and his lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“Good,” he said, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You’re stuck with me now.”

The stillness in the room is thick, but it’s not the same kind of quiet that lingered before. There’s a weight to it now, a softness that wasn’t there before. Your breath still comes in slow, measured pants, your body still humming with the aftermath of everything that just happened. And when you finally meet Chan’s gaze, it’s different. The cold, calculating eyes that used to watch you like a pawn are gone. In their place is something deeper, something raw, as if he’s seeing you for the first time—not the daughter of his enemy, not the reluctant ally, but the woman who’s now standing beside him.

He doesn’t speak immediately. He watches you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before his lips curl into a slight, barely there smile. It’s a smile you’ve never seen before—tender and full of meaning, and for the first time, you don’t feel like you’re walking on a knife’s edge. You’re standing with him. Together.

“You know,” he finally says, his voice rough from the tension that still lingers between you, “this was never supposed to happen.”

Your heart skips at the admission. It’s the truth, in a way, but something about it sounds different now. This isn’t about power, about taking down your father’s empire. It’s about him, about both of you, and where this path will lead.

You don’t say anything right away, just allowing the moment to settle between you. But you feel it—the pull between you two is no longer one of distrust or forced obligation. It’s deeper, rawer, like a shared breath, an unspoken vow.

“I didn’t think I’d ever want something like this,” he continues, stepping closer to you. The space between you is no longer an obstacle, but a mere formality. “But now that I do…”

His words trail off, but you don’t need him to finish. You can feel it. The shift is clear. It’s in the way his fingers brush against your skin when he reaches for you again, in the way his hand lingers on the back of your neck, his touch grounding you in this new reality. His eyes lock on yours, and you see it: the commitment, the understanding that this isn’t just about a partnership in the mafia anymore.

This is something more.

“I’ll burn the world down for you,” he says, his voice a low promise, the words more than just an empty vow. You see it in his eyes—something ferocious, something dangerous, but also something fiercely protective. “And I’ll build something better from the ashes. Together.”

You feel the weight of his promise settle in your chest, and you know, without a doubt, that this isn’t just about power or loyalty. This is about you and him—two people who’ve been through hell and come out the other side, now bound by something deeper than either of you had expected. He’s not the man who kidnapped you anymore. He’s the man who’s willing to sacrifice it all to protect you, and you feel the same stir inside you.

“I’m with you,” you say, your voice steady, the words solid and final. “No matter what comes next.”

Chan’s gaze softens, just a fraction. He leans in, and for the first time, you don’t hesitate. You meet him halfway, your lips pressing together in a kiss that feels like both a beginning and an end—an affirmation of what you’re both willing to sacrifice, of what you’re willing to burn to the ground to create something new.

The moment stretches, pulling you both in. There’s no going back now. The line between enemies and allies, between loyalty and love, has blurred completely.

But just as you feel the full weight of that, the door to the study bursts open, and Changbin steps in. His eyes dart between you both, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he clears his throat.

Chan doesn’t pull away. His arm remains around you, pulling you closer as though marking you as his own in front of anyone who dares to challenge it.

“We’ve got a problem,” Changbin says, his voice low. The urgency in his tone cuts through the charged air in the room.

You and Chan both turn your attention to him, the shift between you more than obvious now. The world may still be watching, may still be demanding your attention, but for the first time, neither of you cares. You’re in this together now. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it side by side.

“Tell me,” Chan says, his voice firm, the weight of leadership back in it, but this time, it’s different. There’s a certainty in him now, a man who knows exactly who he’s doing this for.

Changbin hesitates, but only for a second. The message is clear. Whatever consequences are coming, they’re coming fast. But whatever it is, you know that with Chan by your side, you’re ready.

“Get ready. We’re about to make a bigger move. And this time, it’s not just about us. It’s about everything.”

You glance up at Chan, the unspoken understanding passing between you. You’re no longer two people caught in a world of shifting alliances. You’re partners, bound by blood and fire. And the world better be ready for what’s coming.

The door closes behind Changbin, and for a moment, you and Chan just stand there. The tension in the room isn’t gone, but it’s different now. It’s no longer just about survival. It’s about what you’ll burn for each other.

The future is uncertain, but for the first time, it feels like you both have a hold on it.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

#bang chan #stray kids #skz #skz smut #kpop smut #bang chan fanfic #skz mafia #bang chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids mafia #stray kids fanfic #bang chan skz #bang chan stray kids

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official-cvntified-gay · 4 months ago

Text

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅ cocky and competitive abby | wc: 1.5k

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, navigating through the narrow hallway that was dimly lit, the cold metal walls echoing with the distant hum of machinery. You and Abby had been assigned to infiltrate a high-security facility—standard spy work, really. But whenever you and Abby were paired up, standard always became something of a competition.

"Bet I’ll crack the vault before you even make it past the first firewall," Abby said smugly, her voice low but dripping with confidence as the two of you made your way through the shadows. Her aviators were pushed up on her head, her smirk unmistakable even in the dark.

You scoffed, adjusting your utility belt. "Please, Anderson. I’ve already got half the codes memorized."

She cast a glance your way, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “Oh yeah? Keep telling yourself that. Don’t get too comfortable in my shadow, sweetheart.”

Your blood buzzed at the challenge. The way Abby was always so cocky—it both infuriated you and made you want to prove her wrong. Every mission turned into a battle of who could do it faster, quieter, better.

“Let’s see who gets to the control room first,” you shot back, already knowing the route you’d take.

Abby chuckled, that low, confident sound. “You’re on.” She stepped closer, her breath teasing your ear for just a second. “Try to keep up.”

Without another word, she was gone, slipping through the corridor with all the grace of a predator on the hunt. You rolled your eyes and followed, determined not to let her win this time.

You rounded a corner, only to see Abby already at the control panel, tapping away. She turned her head ever so slightly as you came into view, her grin wider than it had any right to be.

“Don’t worry,” she said casually, “I’ll save some of the fun for you. Not that you’ll need it, since I’ve already disarmed half the security.”

You bit back a retort, taking a position at the adjacent console. “Security’s disarmed, huh? That’s cute. I just bypassed the surveillance cameras from my comm on the way in.”

Abby raised an eyebrow but didn’t look fazed. “Sure, you did. Just like that time you almost cracked the encryption before I stepped in.”

You huffed, fingers flying over your own console, determined to match her pace. “You know what your problem is, Anderson? You talk a big game, but you never know when to shut up and focus.”

She chuckled, her fingers still tapping rapidly on her keys. “And yet I’m still faster than you. What’s that say about you?”

Your reply was cut off by the quiet ping of her console unlocking. She straightened up and gave you a mock salute. “Vault’s open. Guess I win. Again.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you couldn’t stop a small smile from creeping up. “Yeah, yeah. But who’s got the intel we actually need?”

Abby frowned for just a second, then glanced at the screen. You had already transferred the data to your secure drive. She let out a disbelieving laugh. “You sneaky—”

“I’m just better, Anderson.” You gave her a wink as you turned, ready to make your exit.

But before you could take a step, Abby was in front of you, her hand catching your wrist in a firm but playful grip. She tugged you closer, her lips hovering dangerously near your ear.

“You love pushing my buttons, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice dripping with cocky amusement.

You swallowed, refusing to let her see the effect she had on you. “Somebody has to keep that ego in check.”

Her smirk deepened, and she stepped back, her hand still resting casually on your wrist. “Admit it,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “You like it when I win.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “In your dreams, Abby.”

She leaned in again, her breath brushing your neck, her tone smug. “You’re in them more than you think.”

You shoved her lightly, trying to play it cool, but your heart was racing. “Let’s get out of here before you start believing your own hype.”

As you both slipped through the hallways, backtracking toward the extraction point, you couldn’t help but think that this constant battle between the two of you—this back-and-forth, always trying to one-up each other—was starting to feel less like competition, and more like… something else.

And judging by the cocky grin Abby kept flashing your way, she knew it too.

The two of you moved through the shadows with practiced ease, slipping past sensors and cameras like it was second nature. You’d worked together long enough to anticipate each other’s moves, but that didn’t mean the game ever got old. If anything, it was what kept you sharp—and what kept things interesting.

As you approached the rendezvous point, Abby’s pace slowed slightly, just enough to let you catch up to her. She flashed that signature cocky grin, her hand brushing against yours for just a second longer than necessary. It was subtle, but it sent a familiar warmth through your chest. You couldn’t help but smirk back.

“Still can’t believe you thought you had me beat back there,” she teased, her voice low but filled with that playful edge that always made your heart race.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Please. I had the data before you even stepped into the room.”

Abby shook her head, laughing quietly as she glanced over at you, her expression softening just a bit. “Always gotta keep me on my toes, huh?”

You shot her a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. “What, you’d get bored if I didn’t?”

Abby’s smirk grew as she took a step closer, her voice dropping to that low, teasing tone she knew drove you crazy. “Bored? Never. But we both know you like it when I get competitive.”

Your pulse quickened as she closed the distance between you, her body just barely brushing against yours. It was a dangerous dance, one you had perfected over the course of countless missions together. The banter, the competition—it was all part of the fun. But beneath the teasing and the one-upmanship, there was something more, something real that neither of you could deny.

You leaned in, your voice just a whisper. “Admit it—you like it too.”

Abby’s smile softened, and for a moment, the cocky front dropped just enough for you to see the affection in her eyes. “Maybe I do,” she murmured, her hand finding yours and giving it a quick squeeze before she pulled away, already heading toward the exit.

You shook your head, grinning as you followed her out into the night. This was how it always went. The competition, the banter—it was your way of keeping things fun, keeping things fresh. But at the end of the day, there was no question where you both stood.

Once you were safely out of the facility and back at the extraction point, the two of you finally relaxed, the adrenaline from the mission starting to fade. Abby leaned against the side of the getaway vehicle, crossing her arms and giving you that smug, lopsided grin again.

“Well, another successful mission,” she said, her voice teasing. “And once again I’m the one who—”

You cut her off with a quick kiss, catching her off guard as you pressed your lips to hers. She blinked in surprise but quickly melted into it, her hands instinctively sliding to your waist. When you pulled back, she was still smirking, but her eyes had softened in that way they only did when it was just the two of you.

“Okay, okay,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “I guess we’re both winners tonight.”

You laughed, leaning your forehead against hers. “You keep telling yourself that, Anderson.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, your arms wrapped around each other, the playful tension between you settling into something softer, more intimate.

“This never gets old, does it?” you said softly, your fingers playing with the hem of her jacket.

Abby hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Not with you.”

It wasn’t just about the missions. The constant competition, the teasing, the cocky grins—it was all part of the game you’d been playing since the beginning. But beneath it all, there was something more. This was how you kept things exciting, how you kept the spark alive even after all these missions, all these close calls.

And Abby? She might be cocky, but she was yours. And that was all that mattered.

She pulled back slightly, raising an eyebrow as she flashed you another grin. “So, when’s round two? I need another shot at showing you up.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned in for another kiss. “You can try, Anderson. But we both know how that’ll end.”

She pulled you closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, “Yeah. With me winning.”

And just like that, the game was back on. But this time, as you drove off into the night, Abby’s hand resting on your thigh, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d both already won.

✰ her in that bomber jacket is doing things to me😩

#lesbians #abby anderson x reader #alternate universe #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #the last of us

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nanaminsmoon · 2 years ago

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hiiii, so sorry if this is a lil long but bare w me pls, i love ur writing btw <3

ok: reader & plug!ony broke up about a year ago bc of something ony did (something bad but not like 100% unforgivable) but the feelings never left. he’s been tryna get her back over the year but she wasn’t budging cus she hadn’t seen any growth. recently tho she’s noticed he’s growing & she misses him. then at a function, she sees him pop out w a new girl & all their friends are staring at her like waiting for a reaction and in a littleee moment of jealousy, she goes up to ony like “you’re mine for life right?” and he jumps away from the other girl so fast like he BEEN waiting on this news 😭😭

omg thank you!! i was about to write something just like this but this is so much better!! i hope you like it and i'm sorry it took so long i just wanted it to be okay😭

cw: kinda angsty, oral (f receiving), car sex, ony calls reader 'ma', n word usage, mentions of breeding.

wc: 3913

atonement is hardly ever easy, and ony knew that first-hand. closing the gap between you and the person you once held closest to you can, surprisingly, be very difficult. even if a year of ‘separation’ is spent showing up at your ex-lovers’ door, or workplace, nail tech, or hair lady’s house. sometimes getting back to where you once where is needlessly difficult. especially if your definitions of said place are vastly different.

from the outside looking in, you and ony’s relationship had been picture perfect. he loved you as much as you loved him, and he wasn’t shy about it. everyone knew not to even look at you wrong, because they knew that they would have ony to deal with—and no one fucked with ony’s girl. except for him. because that picture had been held by a fraudulent frame; purposely hung over the large dent in your relationship. that being, his occupation.

from small kickbacks, to rich white kids who want to snort rebellion off their house keys, everyone had one thing in common—ony. no party started until ony got there and, as happy as you were for him, that didn’t come without its burdens. ony was almost always out dealing, giving you very little quality time to hang out. on the few occasions you got his undivided attention for more than a few hours, your peace would be interrupted by the ear-splitting noise erupting from his stupid nokia burner phone.

of course, small huffs of disappointment would slip past your lips when he told you that he had to leave. but you were used to it now, and that’s what helped ony sleep at night; knowing that you had become inured to his disconcerting disappearances, and abrupt reappearances. you knew that other people needed him, even if it meant that your needs were temporarily pushed aside. one time you had asked him, why it always had to be him that they called, and his response had been:

”my shit is the best, ma.”, said through a chortle, as he put his shoes on by your front door.

”i get that, but what about me?”, your arms crossed, as you tilted your head at your man—ony’s weakness. once you did that, with that look in your eyes, he couldn’t say no to you. but tonight, his priorities were different.

just let me do what i gotta do, and i’ll come right back to you. then i’m yours for the whole night.”, he had reassured, kissing your temple.

”just for the night?”, you scoffed.

”for life. now stay here, and i’ll be back.”, and that would appease you for the evening. but there’s only so much cracking one heart can do, before no adhesive can keep it whole, and it shatters into a million pieces. that night, you stripped yourself of ony’s shirt you had been wearing, and threw it into the corner of your bedroom; it smelt too much like him, and you hated it.

harmless hatred became deep disdain on the evening of your birthday. you had organised a dinner for a few of your closest friends and family, and had vehemently stressed to ony that he had to be there on time. because, if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t just be wasting your time, but he’d be wasting that of those closest to you as well. and he had promised you that if there’s something that had to be handled during the time of your dinner, he’d get connie or eren to do it so he could be with you. but 15 minutes of waiting for him became 30. and 30 soon became an hour, and your friends grew reasonably irate due to hunger. so you said they could order, and you’d just call ony one more time. but in a time where all you wanted to hear was your boyfriend’s voice, all you were met with was rings on the other line. that sound resounded all over the side of your face. and that feeling grew once the realisation hit that had you been a client, he wouldn’t have let the phone ring for more than five seconds. and that gave you a lot to think about.

you didn’t know how long the dinner lasted because your focus had remained on keeping your tears from falling into your food. you hated how pitiful you looked, lifting your head up every time someone walked into the restaurant, and the crestfallen expression that landed on your face each time you saw it wasn’t ony. it made no sense to you how the man who swore he would do anything for you, the man who placed a band on your ring finger, promising you that one day he’d marry you. the man who swore he had never loved anyone more than you, refused to put you before something so fleeting.

ony finally did show up though…two hours after the dinner had ended. heartbroken cries in your bedroom, had constantly been interrupted by calls coming from ony’s contact. but every single one went unanswered; he needed to feel what you felt when he had embarrassed you in front of your loved ones. though mere missed calls could never compare to the taste of your celebratory dinner food meshing awkwardly with the swallowed cries in your throat, you had to make him feel a morsel of the anguish he had put you through.

if ony could’ve gone full 2000s rnb music video; shirtless, singing outside your window with his chain blowing in the windy rain, he would’ve done. he would’ve even started throwing pebbles if he could, but your apartment was too high on your building. so he just settled on incessantly pressing the button next to your door number. and, after the nth try, you opened the door for him and he ran inside—pressing the elevator button a thousand times once he got in. and, just as he was about to knock on the door, it opened. and you stood on the other side, utterly unimpressed; bonnet on, your own pyjamas (instead of one of his shirts), and eyes reddened by tears. the impact caused by his heart unceremoniously dropping to the pit of his stomach caused a soft sigh to leave his mouth. then his lips began moving to explain himself.

“look, i'm sorry. i lost track of ti—”, his explanations were waved off—your own thoughts outweighing whatever he had to say to you.

“we're done, ony.”, was all you said to him before closing the door, and ony’s brain turned off, then back on again because what the fuck did you just say??

“y/n, open the door”, he banged on the door. and, not wanting any noise complaints, you opened it.

“what?”, you scowled.

“the fuck you mean done? talk to me”, ony’s hand reached out to yours, but quickly retreated when you pulled back from him. you had never done that; even when you were mad at him, you at least gave him a chance to get back into your good books again.

“you missed my birthday dinner, ony”, your voice was small, tears about to fall yet again.

“i know, and i'm sor—”,

“two years in a row.”,

“like i said, i'm sor—”,

“and my graduation, the party we had when i finally got my drivers license, the lunch you promised me on my first day at my new job. and you were meant to be my date at my sisters wedding.”, every example was punctuated by your fingertip harshly poking at his chest, and the tears just started falling on their own.

“i'm sorry, y/n”, ony’s voice started cracking, as his hand embraced the hand you had been poking him with.

“sorry isn't good enough anymore, ony. i deserve someone who prioritises me”,

“but everything i do is for us.”, he kissed your hand, “imma use this money to buy you ever—”,

“do you not understand that i don't want your money or gifts? i want you, ony.”, your breathed out, exasperation deeply set in your voice, and in your slumping posture, “anyone could give me bags and shoes, ony. but only you could give me your time. but you won’t, and that's the problem”

“so what, this is it?”,

“until you figure yourself out, yeah.”, you slid your hand from him, “it pains me because i love you so much, but i can’t keep living like this. if you're not ready for a girlfriend then you should've never got with me”

“but i am ready”, he pleaded.

“then act like it.”. were the words that echoed in ony’s head every time he showed up to the places he saw you posting on your story—heart holding hopes that your paths would cross. you didn’t know how he did it, but ony became your shadow for nearly the whole year you spent separated. even when you told him to give it up, he refused; sending bouquets of flowers to your workplace every few days, talking to you through your friends and family, and even showing up to your job to make up for that lunch he promised you. it hurt you to turn him away when you could see in his eyes that he would give up the world to have you in his orbit again. but, when you would ask him about where he got the money to even buy you these flowers in the first place, his silence was very telling.

but word on the street was that ony was a changed man now. your sources told you that he wasn’t dealing as much, and he had gotten a job. those sources being his instagram story that you watched through a burner account. seeing him everywhere made it impossible for you to wash yourself of him completely, so desparate times called for desparate measures. you missed that man so much, it was driving you crazy. it pissed you off seeing him being the man you had asked him to be, but not having the chance to bask in his progress. your love for ony wouldn’t vanish overnight, but it sure as hell hadn’t faded in the year you had been separated either. you kept his shirts and hoodies, and the promise ring he bought you was still on your finger.

so elated didn’t even begin to explain the feeling in your chest when, upon arriving at some house party, one of your girls told you that ony was there too. you tried to not seem so eager, but you had no control over your heart beating rapidly at the idea that you might see him again. all you needed was for him to apologise one more time, and you’d be all his. that was until you came to find that there was a hole blocking your reunion—that hole being in the shape of some girl giggling in his face, as his arm sat around her waist. every fibre of your being urged you to stomp over there, and scream his ear off. but he wasn’t your man anymore so there was nothing you could do but kiss your teeth and glower that them.

no man, not even ony, could get in the way of you and your friends enjoying yourselves. so that’s exactly what you did. for an hour, or two, ony didn’t exist and you just laughed and danced with your friends. however, the end of that would be marked when you stood, talking some guy you had just met, and one of your friends nudged you and nodded in ony’s direction.

“that doesn't bother you?”, she asked, obviously asking about the girl sat on ony’s lap.

“why would it?”, you shrugged back.

“you ain't say you missed the nigga?”, your other friend chimed in.

“okay? that doesn't mean i want him back”, you lied through your teeth.

“so you’re just missing him as hobby?”, sasha laughed.

“leave me alone.”, you chided, and your friends dropped the whole thing. but you wished those saltine whispers of jealousy would leave your eyes, and let you at least pretend to enjoy yourself in peace.

and if it wasn’t them ruining your fun, it was the girl’s friends staring at you.

“why are her friends looking at me?”, you whispered to connie. he had come over to speak to you, and that had caught ony’s attention. mainly because he wondered why you were willing to speak to his friend, but not him.

“they’re gloating.”, connie put a comforting arm around you, and pulled you closer to himself.

“well, tell them to stop.”, as if you could feel ony’s eyes on you, you moved connie’s arm from you, and connie laughed before putting it back where it was.

“they won’t. in their mind, she stole ony from you.”, he explained, and you scoffed.

“pfft, i could get that nigga back anytime i wanted”, you retorted, earning some knowing looks from your friends, before unprecedented words fell from sasha’s mouth.

“then do it.”, she nudged you, “you keep saying you want him so bad, go get him. he’s your man. go collect him”, that didn’t sound like a suggestion, it sounded like a dare. and you were never one to back down from a dare.

“fuck it”.

you didn’t know where your strides were leading you until you were barging past ony’s friends to link your arm around his own. at first, his body went into fight or flight because he thought he was about to be robbed, then calm came in the sound of your voice,

“ony, baby, where did you go? i've been looking for you everywhere”, you made sure to stick yourself onto him, and he didn’t move from you because he was too busy comprehending what the fuck was going on.

“y/n?”,

“i thought you guys were done?”, miss.whatever-her-name-was, linked ony’s other arm with her own, and pulled him towards herself.

“yeah, so did i”, ony spoke under his breath, looking down at you in bewilderment as he thought to himself; ”how much did i fucking smoke?”.

“who’s done?”, you looked up at him, “you’re mine for life, right?”, you pouted up at him, and all those memories of that night he had promised you he wouldn’t be long, came flooding back—ony folded immediately.

“always.”, he grinned at you, simultaneously yanking his arm away from whatever her name was.

“ony?”, she complained—now it was your turn to gloat.

“what?”, he sneered at her.

“you told me you guys were done”, she whined, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“well then don’t believe everything a nigga tells you”, was his final rebuttal before he pulled you outside.

at first, you just sat in silence, taking in the cool summer breeze. but ony had questions and, more importantly, he wanted to hear your voice.

“you forgive me then?”, his elbow gently met your arm.

“who said that?”, you stared down at your feet, kicking into the ground beneath you.

“you don't forgive me but you wanna do all that shit back there?”, he laughed.

“she didn't look good for you”, you finally looked up at him, and ony just laughed at you.

“you don't know her”,

“i just got that vibe”, you feigned a shudder, eyes still on him.

“what'd you really want, y/n?”, his index finger lifted your chin.

“you.”, your frank demeanour, and sincere eye contact, blew ony’s eyes wide open.

“well, you got me.”, as much as ony had changed in that year, his love for you remained incorrigible, and he’d be dumb to try and convince you otherwise. so he wouldn’t; he’d been wanting you back for far too long, and he’d finally gotten what he wanted.

“that easy?”, you teased.

“even if you’re not mine, i’ll always be yours, y/n. you know that”, ony’s words directed themselves at your lips; brown irises stuck onto your shining gloss.

“well then…can i be yours again?”, you muttered apprehensively, and the pause after that comment was unreadable.

“y’don’t even have to ask, c’mere”, ony reached his hand out to you.

gentle fingers, interlocked with yours, led you out of the party, and down a road that would end at ony’s car—parked overlooking the local area. he wasted no time; unlocking it before opening the back door, and gesturing for you to get in.

"already? you don’t at least want to talk first?”, you laughed at how keen he was, and a lazy smirk graced his face.

”we’ll talk after. get in.”, any anger, or disappointment, built up over the time you were together, had been mollified with just one comment. missing ony was something you never wanted to do again, and seeing the person he had apparently become, meant that you probably never would. all memories of past arguments, and splits, dispersed in ony’s mind once his lips met yours in a fervent kiss. it was one of longing, and regret. the heat emanating off his body causing particles of his internal regret to fill the inside of the car. you could feel it bouncing off your skin, as his tongue met with yours, and his hands kneaded at your flesh through your clothes. ultimately moving south to help you shimmy your way out of your jeans and underwear. he wouldn’t take them off completely, just leave them by your ankles as he laid you on your back, his mouth already placing soft kisses on your upper thigh. that lasted all of five seconds before ony’s tongue was wrapping around your clit, sucking on it gently. for him, this was a meal that was long overdue, and you could feel it in the way he ate you out like a starved man. taking no breaks; wet noises and thirsty moans, omitted by the ever-moving mouth entertaining your core, pervaded the vehicle.

ony had always luxuriated in eating you out, so it wasn’t long until you came; a rivulet dousing his lower face, before he finally came up for air.

”you still taste as good as i remember”, he uttered lowly, moving to give you a taste of yourself as he pressed his lips against yours. his kisses were haste as his hands fumbled to pull down his jeans and boxers, to angle himself at your entrance. the way you took in that first inch of him had him incapacitated; his forehead dropped to meet yours, while deep groans left his mouth.

”fuck…”, ony had to pause to compose himself before he gently pushed the rest of his length inside you. once he did, he just stayed there; eyes locked with yours, thanks to the streetlights, and you could’ve sworn that this man was close to tears with the way his eyes were glossing over.

the way he was fucking you was ineffable; a year was nothing compared to the others ony had spent studying your body, and the things it reacted to. like the way you’d grow tighter around him at his hands pressing your legs against your chest, as he fucked into you. even in the confined space, head crouched down so he didn’t hit the ceiling, ony still fucked you like you were in the comfort of his bedroom—with all the space, and time, in the world. his ireful tip would caress that spongy spot inside of you, over and over again, making your head spin. all those years of learning your body had not been in vain, because a few minutes in that position, and you came around him. keening his name, as your back lifted off the leather seats. ony was planning on taking you back to his place, and making up for lost time properly. but, for now, he would just turn you around and fuck into you from the back—your hands immediately finding the steamy windows,

”don’t do that, ma. people will know what we’re doin’ in here”, he chuckled at you and you moaned out a distorted version of,

”and the moving car doesn’t make it obvious?”. somehow, ony understood you; he was just used to your fucked out rebuttals, and he scoffed at you before giving the moving flesh surrounding your hips two quick slaps. your hands grabbed at anything they could to gain balance, ultimately deciding on the arm rest on the door. and ony’s hands would follow suit, but as he went to intertwine your fingers, his hands were met with cold metal. it was pretty dark in there, so he couldn’t really make out what it was, but a fleeting headlight revealed the ring he had bought you.

“still got that ring on?”, he smiled to himself.

“you p-promised me…”, you stammered out.

“that i’d marry you.”, his eyes softened at the fact that you had been wearing that ring, despite not being together. all because of that lovestruck vow he had made you,

“and imma keep to that promise. imma marry you, then imma fuck some babies into you”, he spoke to you, “that okay with you?”, you moaned out in loud agreement, and that drove ony to fuck you harder.

“good.”, the thought of you being his wife, sat in your marital bed, with his child in your arms sent him over the edge, and ony came in you. deep hums, containing declarations of his love, spilt all over the back of your neck. but his hips didn’t still because he could feel you coming again.

once you both came down from your orgasms, ony laid you down on your side, before pulling his boxers and jeans up and leaving the car momentarily to turn the car on. he opened the windows slightly, before returning to the back of the car. his back would soon be attached to the back door, yours against his chest as your fingers intertwined. even though you hadn’t covered yourself yet, and his nut was leaking out of you onto the leather seats, everything just seemed perfect. in its own weird way; you in ony’s arms again, and his lips pressing loving kisses on your temple.

”y’know it would’ve taken just one more knock at my front door for me to forgive you?”, you looked up at him. and, once the initial shock subsided, he chuckled at you.

”but i kinda think it’s better this way.”, he shrugged.

”how?”, you sat up to face him properly.

”it felt good to finally be able to give you my attention when you asked it of me.”, he smiled, reaching out to stroke your cheek, ”no interruptions. just us.”, after all the emotional turmoil, it was nice hearing that word again; ”us”.

”for life.”, you kissed his knuckle.

”for life.”

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #onyankopon x black reader #ony x black y/n #aot onyankopon #plug!onyankopon #ony x black reader #onyankopon smut

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clementinegreye · 7 months ago

Text

the end of love.

pairing: aemond targaryen x wife!reader

words: 1.1k

content warns/summary: infidelity, heartbreak, angst etc. aemond cheating on his wife is not cool - but it can be poetic when he’s filled with regret.

a/n: i actually never actually use any character names so this can be read with anyone in mind, i was just thinking of aemond - as i often do. (if you go on this journey with me and consider that contextually this perhaps could follow a certain scene in season two, ahem) also this is not proof-read and written really quickly but ahh enjoy!

Every tedious beat in her chest shimmered with the glittering shards of heartbreak. It was invisible to the naked eye - but so glaringly obvious that its fragments littered the atmosphere around them.

He stood before her, breaking beneath the weight of her unwavering clemency. The injury of being so entangled with another so closely bonded that the pain he had caused her ended up maiming him too. Bruises blooming across the expanse of his affection.

There was no explaining, excusing or understanding what led him to unfurl the only threads of value in his life. Silver strands stuck in the crevices of his skin where he’d tangled his grip in another.

In pooling sapphire before him she was uncovered, glinting in the vulnerability with her ribs cracked open so he may see the damage he'd done. Every incarnadine bone was soaked with the agony born from the duplicity of his transgression as it leaked from each torn ventricle.

Forgiveness spent on the wind that whistled through the room and flickered the dance between the candles. There was none left to be offered to him, and he had no coin to acquire any having spent it all on fornication. The rain trickled down in secret patterns hinting at the undoubted end of all that was - his own personal doomsday.

Her eyes glistened with the threat of tears, not yet shed but on a dangerous precipice of slipping. That would be unfair - it would be a display of truth and openness that he did not merit. For allowing him to know how he had wounded her would be an outward acceptance that he had ever owned any form of her and that she had offered any attachment to him with open trust.

There was a certain flash of betrayal alight in the air, something archaic and distinguishable - known by women for centuries before her and would be known centuries after.

The way she burnt under his touch sent an ache through her very soul. Someone who had known her so openly and who had fed her poison from his gentle palm that was pressed so delicately to her cheek. The action itself screamed words that would never pass his lips - the violence in being vulnerable something he would never subject her to, no matter how much she craved the punch.

She could stand at the door of his heart and knock with all her might, scrape the wood with her fingertips and embed her DNA into the carvings but it would make no difference, he was bolted and locked with the silver key firmly out of her grasp.

He tasted like metal, leather and smoke. Harsh, abrasive and intoxicating. She couldn't give in, knowing that someone else had tasted what should have been hers and hers alone - in oath and vow.

Clad in black leather as smooth as the surface of the sky, protective and impenetrable it was a perfect representation of him. The moon shone above them, lighting the illicit emotion that curved in the hips he had moved his hands to. It was begging, desperate and false.

There was nothing that could be the unbinding to them.

Except his own actions.

Could there have been a time when she knew the depths of his soul, or was there always the abyss of betrayal waiting to devour her whole? Waiting to sink its darkness around her light and draw her into an inescapable absence. She had been lost in a labyrinth of him, yet he had been lurking in the shadows the entire time waiting to contain her.

Fear was such a powerful sensation - she stood in front of him tracing the edges of his silhouette with tainted eyes - fearing that everything she had given had been for a fabrication.

Sabotaged in the single breath of midnight that passed the moon's lips. There was enough love there for both of them, unevenly split and so easily covered by the presence of another outwith them.

What had possessed him to fall so ungraciously into the embrace of someone else? Did the devil in spirit convince him to ruin and vandalise the pure form of tenderness that flowed from her veins and through her?

His head fell low, burning with the molten heat of regret and the knowing that he was his own undoing. That the blush of her body would now never belong to him, that he had discoloured with disdain any flush of crimson that may have once been mistaken for devotion.

Spring would fall into summer who would dance with autumn who would be killed by winter and everything would still be the same. Change of seasons could not change the knowing that there was nothing monumental enough, not even love that could have saved him from his own demise.

He had seen to that.

Ensuring there could be no weakness from intimacy that was handed to him in front of god herself. He had to destroy the holy and pure form of adoration with a disposition so closely linked to desolation.

One moment in time was all it took.

In the cold hands of another, he had tasted the bitterness of depravity that flavoured adultery. Eschewing the comfort and honeyed sweetness that lay in the milky sheets of his own home. Where sleep could evade him and he could dream of her so safely next to him for something numbing and dark in their caress.

He had held her in the half-light of dawn when the shadows danced on her body. It had looked as menacing as he felt his soul to be and he knew the sweetness of the innocence of her admiration would decay in his macabre hands.

He slipped out beneath the moonlight, the call of motion into the sea of darkness as he pursued his weapon of destruction against the one he called his own.

The ghost of his beloved’s lips haunted his as they flushed with infidelity. The memory of her touch cascading over him in shivers while the harsh hands of that which he sought out bruised the path which they touched. He could savour the taste of her name on his tongue and know he had no right to speak it, not after the sin he had committed.

Had he little thought for consequence? Or was it exactly the outcome he had endeavoured?

That answer lay within the tainted heart of his lover, who stood before him as she uncovered the layers of his deceit and let the waves wash over them - drowning the memory of love from where it had once taken life and started to breathe.

Little disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader

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theartofcollapse · 1 month ago

Note

what about Alex Cabot x fem reader who just sweeps Alex off her feet with her words and charming demeanor and Alex just can’t get enough😫

reader is really a lover girl and maybe Alex isn’t used to that

ps: I love your writing you’re a great writer!!

a/n: thank you so much!🤍 and thank you for requesting. summary: read it above pairing: Alex Cabot x female reader warnings: none word count: 1K

masterlist

Princess Charming - Alex Cabot

The New York air was crisp as the late evening settled over the city. The buzz of Manhattan outside the courthouse windows was a constant hum, but Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot was immune to it. She was a woman who lived by her schedules, her rules, and her carefully curated walls. That is, until you waltzed into her world like a burst of sunshine cutting through the rain.

It started the first time you testified as a key witness for one of her cases. You were eloquent, sharp, and undeniably magnetic. Alex was used to dealing with hardened individuals and cut-and-dry cases. But you? You carried a warmth about you that made her almost forget she was in court. Almost.

The first time you spoke directly to her outside of cross-examination, she knew she was in big trouble.

“You were brilliant in there, Ms. Cabot,” you said as you lingered in the corridor after the trial. Your voice was smooth, warm, and honeyed, like it held secrets meant just for her.

Alex adjusted her glasses, unsure why she suddenly felt flustered. “Thank you. It’s, uh, part of the job.”

You smiled, tilting your head. “Still, doesn’t make it any less impressive. I’m not sure if I should be more in awe of your legal mind or the fact that you kept your composure while Benson and Stabler’s suspect nearly imploded on the stand.”

Alex tried to suppress a smile, but you caught the faint quirk of her lips.

“You seem to have a knack for making people unravel,” she retorted, her tone teasing but professional.

You shrugged, stepping closer, just enough to close the gap while still respecting her space. “Maybe. But I’d much rather spend my time unraveling mysteries like you.”

Alex blinked, and for the first time in years, she felt her polished exterior crack just a little.

From then on, every interaction with you became a challenge for Alex to maintain her trademark poise. You had a way of slipping in compliments that weren’t overtly flirtatious but still left her heart skipping beats. You’d offer to grab her coffee during breaks or drop by her office with case updates that weren’t necessary, just excuses to see her.

Alex wasn’t used to being pursued so openly, and she certainly wasn’t used to the kind of unabashed affection you offered. Yet she couldn’t help but look forward to the way your eyes lingered a little too long on her or the way you’d always find something genuine to compliment her about.

One evening, after a long day in court, Alex found herself exiting the courthouse with you by her side. It had become somewhat of a ritual.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said, turning to her. “Balancing the weight of justice, holding your head high, always staying ten steps ahead. It’s extraordinary.”

Alex stopped walking and turned to face you fully. “It’s not extraordinary,” she said softly, her usual confidence momentarily replaced by something raw. “It’s… exhausting.”

Your expression softened, and without hesitation, you reached out to gently touch her arm. “Then let me be the person to remind you just how incredible you are when you forget.”

Her breath hitched. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. People admired her, respected her, even feared her. But you looked at her like she was something precious. Like she was worth more than the cases she won or the sharp edges she projected.

“I’m not very good at… letting people in,” she admitted quietly.

“That’s okay,” you said, your voice as steady and warm as ever. “I’m good at sticking around. And I don’t mind earning your trust if that’s what it takes.”

Alex couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that broke across her face. It was rare for her, but with you, it felt easy.

Over time, you made good on your promise. You became her safe haven in a world full of chaos. Whether it was bringing her takeout during late nights in her office or sending her playful texts to make her laugh during grueling trials, your presence became something she craved.

And Alex? She found herself doing things she never thought she’d do. Leaving work early to meet you for dinner, letting you distract her with ridiculous stories when she was stressed, even falling asleep on your couch after watching an old movie she pretended not to enjoy.

It terrified her how easily you swept her off her feet. But it also thrilled her.

One night, as you stood on her apartment balcony overlooking the city, she joined you, a glass of wine in her hand. You turned to her with that soft smile that always managed to disarm her.

“You know,” you said, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, amused. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” you replied. “It’s just unexpected. You’re this powerhouse in court, but when you let your guard down? You’re gentle. Kind. Beautiful.”

She looked at you, her heart racing. “You make it sound like I’m some sort of romantic hero.”

You laughed, and the sound made her chest feel warm. “You are to me, Alex. You don’t have to believe it, but I’ll spend every day proving it to you if I have to.”

For the first time in years, Alex felt her walls crumble entirely. Setting her glass down, she took your hand in hers and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

“You already have,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions she felt.

And with you by her side, Alex realized she didn’t have to face the world alone anymore.

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peggyao3 · 4 months ago

Text

Pt. 18 - Cock Cage / Plugs

A/N: So yeah, unsurprising to myself, I escalated a little with this prompt ✨ The lack of Feyd-Rautha in a cock cage in fanfic has been driving me insane. I also wrote this at 2am.

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, stubborn sub!Feyd, pain kink, blood, Feyd has a degradation kink, cock cages, anal fingering, anal plugs

WORD COUNT: 860

"It's been long enough, now unlock me!"

Feyd-Rautha's muscles jump under her trailing fingers, abdomen shivering as she presses her lips to the hard, smooth flesh, thighs spasming beneath the brush of her fingertips up their insides, gently nudging his sac which sits plump and flushed at the apex of them.

"No," she plainly hums, withdrawing her hands before they reach the na-Baron's poor cock, trapped behind metal bars, trying to harden over and over against the blunted spikes that adorn this custom-built model of a cage.

"Where did you put the key, woman?"

"The key?" She laughs when Feyd's eyes race across her scantily clad body, as if she had any hidden pockets there. Gracefully, she slips off the bed. "I don't have it on me anymore, silly boy."

"So, go and get it!" Feyd-Rautha's voice jumps and breaks from agitation, glaring eyes widened in an attempt of mockery that glides off his tormentor like water off a hide. She infuriates him. He should make her bleed for it.

"What, you want to give up already? After an hour?"

Feyd bares his teeth and leaps off the bed, shiny metal glinting in front of his pelvis. A trail of blood taints his inner thigh. "Just because I let you play with me doesn't mean you're in charge. I decide how we play, and when."

She dares to laugh brightly when he approaches, each step a little torment, yet he wills his limbs to move with graceful slowness while spikes rip open his cock.

"And now what?" She quips when he is in front of her, tall and imposing like a cunning beast ready to bite. "Are you going to fuck me with this?" Giggling, she cups his cock, swollen flesh pressing pitifully against the metal. He is scorching hot, the flushed skin wet from blood that has wept down where he has impaled himself on the spikes from being so uncontrollably aroused just from pain.

Feyd-Rautha is a dangerous animal to play with. He isn't giving up, but his desire for humiliation has been sated. Now he dreams of revenge, to fuck her with his bleeding cock until she bleeds as well.

His moans betray him, pelvis jumping against the slow grind of her palm across his caged, twitching manhood.

"If you had any idea how much that hurts," he hisses through clenched, black teeth.

"But that's what my boy wants, isn't it?"

Feyd-Rautha groans, head rolling back as she squeezes harder. The tendons in his strong neck flex like whip cords ready to snap. "If you don't take me out of this cage, I'll put you over my knee and beat you with something just as spiky. See how you like that, little darling."

"Lie down, Feyd-Rautha, and spread your legs!" The na-Baron flinches away from his woman's sudden outburst, sinking down on the bed in his hasty retreat. "Don't you dare threaten me. You're the pain slut, not me! Yes, you heard me. You're a slut and won't get out of that cage until I say so."

Her palm cracks down on his cock and balls and he yowls like a dying animal, thighs snapping apart at an instant, head falling against the pillow with the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes.

"There you go, such a pretty boy." She climbs after him swiftly, soothing his burning flesh with gently rubbing fingertips. "You just need someone to tell you to shut up and make you bleed, isn't that right?"

Feyd nods, tears streaking down his cheeks when she bends his right leg up by the knee and spits on his hole just beneath his throbbing, swollen balls. He doesn't look, can't look as he presses his palms so hard against his eyes, there is only dizzying darkness when her fingers glide down the cleft of his ass. His other leg curls up against his chest, all by itself, and he burns with shame when the tip of her finger breaches the tight ring of muscle.

"Good darling," she hums, working her finger deeper inside with slow, agonizing thrusts. "Just relax, it's alright."

His cock seems to agree, twitching against the spiked bars. Pre-cum trickles past his slit when her fingertip nudges his prostate, forcing a grating moan past the sinful curve of his parted lips. He can feel her malicious smile, watching him squirm as she fucks him on her finger, slow and deep. Still, he refuses to look. Until her finger withdraws.

"No," he rasps out, eyes blinking open, blinded by the jarring light of the room.

It is only a few seconds until cool, smooth metal is nuzzled against his slick hole and her palm is on the back of his thigh, making sure he is nice and open while she twists and turns the toy, increasing the pressure until his hole yields and traps the bulbous plug inside. Feyd-Rautha moans and throws his head to the side.

His woman crawls over him, voice honey sweet while her fingers lovingly skim his bleeding cock. "If you dare threaten me again, my love, then I will have to gag your pretty mouth as well."

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd x oc #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x oc #feyd imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd smut #feyd rautha smut #austin butler #kinktober 2024 #peggysuave kinktober 2024 #absurdthurst kinktober

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novamariestark · 4 months ago

Text

Don't Want Nothing But You

Summary: You and Hank have an argument. You walk out, it's over, but no amount of beer will numb the pain.

Warnings: angsty, (bad writing) like i'm so bad, how do i have any likes 🤣

Word count: 2345

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x Reader

You never thought you’d ever be here. You never thought you’d walk away from him. But what could you do? What could you do? How could you continue to invest your heart and soul into a relationship where the lines of communication were painfully one-sided? He never talked to you about what was going on in his head. What he was feeling. He didn’t trust you.

You stare at your reflection in the kitchen window, your eyes bloodshot and red from the tears that have fallen. Your heart felt so heavy you thought it would drag you down any second. The now cold, quiet room that once felt like home is suffocating you.

How did you get here?

You never wanted to be that couple—the one standing on opposite sides, talking past each other. But lately, that’s all you and Hank had been. Two strangers occupying the same space, like two ships passing silently in the night. You’ve been patient, giving him time, hoping he'd open up. But it’s been weeks now, maybe months. And you’re tired.

So fucking tired.

All you wanted was something. Anything. Any shred of fucking emotion from him. Any sliver of hope that maybe he cared about you enough to let you in.

But he didn’t.

"I can't do this anymore, Hank!" you shout, your hands gripping the countertop so hard your knuckles turn white.

Hank paces in front of you, his jaw clenched, "What the hell are you talking about?" he snaps in a tone that would make most people back up, but not you, "You think this is easy for me? You think I don't have enough going on without coming home to this?"

"Coming home to what?!" you fire back, stepping closer, closing the distance between you. "To me?"

He runs a hand over his head, "I’m trying to protect you!"

"Don’t give me that bullshit!" you snap, your voice louder now, “I’m not asking you for every fucking detail, Hank. I’m asking for something real. I’m asking you to trust me, to let me in! But you won’t, will you? You’d rather push me away than admit that you need someone."

"I don’t need anyone. I’ve gotten this far on my own."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. The pain of them wrapping around your heart and squeezing the life out of it.

More tears begin to sting your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall, “You’re right,” you breathed out, not fully trusting your voice to speak any louder, “I can’t keep fighting for someone who won’t fight for me,”

you walked away and headed towards the door.

“So, what? You’re just gonna walk away?” his voice echoing in your ears as you paused for a moment, your hand resting lightly on the doorknob.

Your voice cracks, and you take a shaky breath, “You already did,”

You swung the door open and slammed it behind you. The cold Chicago air didn’t bother you, even if it was biting at your exposed skin.

You ran to your car, chucking your bag in the passenger seat. You couldn’t get away fast enough. Your hands shaking from the cold and all the emotions that were rushing through you as you fumbled with your keys, trying to get them into the ignition. When you were finally able to slip the key in, you twisted it and the engine roared to life.

You wiped the tears that blurred your vision before pulling away. You didn’t make it far though, You couldn't. You couldn't physically keep the tears back any longer. You pulled your car over, switching the engine back off and letting your head fall forward until your forehead was resting on the steering wheel.

You don’t know how long you were there for. Just crying. But eventually you mustered up the energy to continue home. You weren’t looking forward to the loneliness, but then again, you’d been alone for a long time, you just didn’t know it or just didn’t want to see it.

You loved him so much and walking away killed you but not as much as watching him shut you out, time and time again.

When you got home, your phone started blowing up. You assumed it was Hank so you ignored it but when it kept buzzing, you finally looked at it to see Gabby’s name on the Caller ID.

You answered it with a sigh, the phone nestling between your cheek and your shoulder as you made your way to the fridge to drink whatever alcohol you had left in this place.

“Hey girl,” came her voice through the speaker, along with the background noise of Molly’s, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, grabbing the last couple of bottles of beer you had left. You turned behind you and opened the draw to grab the bottle opener, quickly opening your beer before tossing it on the counter ready for the next bottle, “why wouldn’t I be?”

She sighed, “Well it’s very rare we see Voight here looking like a kicked puppy,”

The thought made you smile a little. He was upset about you leaving? Did he actually care? But then you forced the smile away,

no, bad y/n. you left for a reason.

No matter how much you loved him, how much you wanted the two of you to be perfect. You knew it was never going to happen. If you were going to feel lonely, you may as well be alone, instead of having that one little thought in your mind that maybe, just maybe, one day he’d talk to me. One day, he’d trust you. Hell, he told you he didn’t need you so, fuck him. You don’t need him either. Asshole.

“Yeah well, what do you want me to do about it?” you asked, the tone in your voice slightly harsher than you intended, “Sorry”

“What happened?”

“We’re over,” you said simply as you headed towards the couch, maybe watch some tv and take your mind off him.

“You are? What did he do?”

“He said he didn’t need anyone, including me, so I left,” you took a sip of your beer before leaning forward and placing it on the coffee table in front of you. You picked up the remote and turned the tv on, turning the volume down so you could still hear Gabby.

“Well, clearly he’s regretting saying that, he’s here drowning his sorrows,”

“Look, Gabby, I love you, I do, but I just,” you paused, sniffling slightly, you wiped a stray tear that escapes your eye, “I just can’t right now,”

“Ok, babe, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” and with that you hung up, the call screen disappearing which then shows a picture of an unaware Hank making coffee. It was a simple picture, one that used to bring a smile to your face. Whenever you had a shitty day at work, all you had to do was look at that photo and that gorgeous face would just melt all the stress away.

But now, it only brought you tears.

You lock the phone and chuck it to the other side of the couch. You surf the channels looking for something to cheer you up and sure enough you found Friends, something that always makes you laugh and thankfully, they had a few episodes lined up for you. You let yourself sink back into the cushions and before you know it, minutes turn into hours.

The night drags on painfully slow. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind replaying every word, every moment of the fight. Sleep won’t come—how could it when the space was empty beside you.

You toss and turn, clutching the blanket to your chest, but nothing can lull you to sleep. You check your phone more times than you’d like to admit, hoping for a text, a missed call, anything from him. But the screen is blank.

Tears prick your eyes again. You thought you were all cried out, but the sadness still sits like a lump in your throat. The memory of his words echoes in your mind, playing on repeat.

"I don’t need anyone."

‘I bet he’s fine’ you think, ‘I bet he doesn’t give a shit’

But that wasn’t the case. Just like Gabby had told you, he was moping at the bar drinking beer after beer. One turned to ten, but you were still the only thing on his mind.

But my head is spinnin' with only you in it

No matter how many bottles he drunk dry you were still the only thing he wanted on his lips.

When I'm at the bottom the buzz and the bottle

Just ain't what I want on my lips

Three hours later, and he’s lost count of how many beers he’s drunk and you’re still on his mind. The only other thought in his head was ‘what the fuck am I doing here’

Can't drink you off my mind

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't even want this beer

He slid off the stool and reached into his pocket, grabbing a few notes to pay for his drinks. He then grabbed his jacket off the back of the stool and headed out to his car. He had to see you. He couldn’t lose you. This couldn’t be over.

I'd rather be drunk on your love

I'm thinkin' it over and I know we're over

But I'm comin' over because (whoa)

You gave up trying to sleep. You chucked your covers away and swung your legs off the side of the bed. Your stomach started to rumble slightly and you remember that after everything, you had forgotten to eat. And damn did a sandwich sound really good right now.

You padded your way downstairs, making a beeline for the fridge. You grab the handle, opening it and pulling out your ingredients for your sandwich. You then reach over to the drawer and pull out a butter knife, but before you can begin to butter your bread, there’s a knock at the door.

You head to the door, thinking it was probably Gabby coming over to check on you after her shift, but when you open the door, you see the very face you’d been trying to forget all night.

“hey baby,” he said.

You sighed, resting your head on the door, “What do you want, Hank?” you asked, exhaustion and slight annoyance littered in your tone. Even though perhaps your heart had wanted him to come over, your mind said differently.

“I can’t lose you,” there was a slight crack in his voice, one that made you want to launch yourself into his arms, but you couldn’t. You had to stay strong. You’d just be going back to where you were. Alone, isolated, with a man who shut himself off from you.

“You were the one who said you didn’t need anyone,” you reminded him, “Or did you just mean, emotionally? Cus I’m not just going to be there for you when you want a fuck,”

“You know damn well you mean more to me than just a quick fuck,”

“Do I? How the fuck would I know that?”

He sighed, “I know,” he pointed behind you, a silent request to come in. You step aside, opening the door slightly wider, he steps in and you shut the door behind him, “I know I haven’t told you everything, or anything. But it’s not because I don’t trust you,”

“Then why?” your voice reduced to a whisper as tears start to form once more.

“Because you’re the best thing in my life. I see a lot of shit, some really dark shit at work and the only thing that gets me through it is knowing that at the end of it, I’m coming home to you. I don’t want to talk about it because I don’t want you to think about it, or worry about it. And some of the shit I do. Baby, if you knew, you’d never look at me the same,”

“Why do you think I’d run?”

“Because i-i… I don’t always do things by the book,”

“You don’t think I know that?” you asked him, taking a couple of steps closer until your chests are lightly pressed against each other. Your arms find their way around his neck, your thumbs resting on his cheeks, “I’m a lawyer, Hank, I’ve seen the bruises, heard the complaints, and prosecuted half the guys you’ve put in the hospital,”

“So you know that I,”

“Get a little rough?” you finished for him, you look up at him, your bottom lip tucked between your lips, “Yeah, I know,”

“And you’re okay with that?” he asked. He was completely baffled. He had spent endless hours thinking you’d leave him the second you found out just how dirty his hands were but, you knew? After all this time, you knew.

“I’m okay with that,” you replied, and you were, the people he was hurting were bad people. Evil people. They completely deserved it. You’d never think less of him for that, “Will you talk to me from now on?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby. Just don’t leave,” his arms wrap around your waist, tighter, pulling you closer to him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead then rested his head on yours.

“Anything?” you replied, your lips quickly turn into a pout, “How come you’re never rough with me?”

“What?”

“You know, you’re always so gentle with me in bed,” You start to blush slightly, looking down at your feet, “I mean, I like that, but sometimes, I want you to be, I don’t know, rougher with me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible despite the dead silence of the night. That caught him off guard. Of course he was always gentle with you, he didn’t want to hurt you.

His finger hooks under your chin, bringing you to look up at him, “You really want that?”

“I want everything”

@unhappy-hannah (i'm sorry it's bad 🤣😭) btw now obsessed with this song.

#female reader #reader insert #hank voight x you #hank voight #hank voight x reader #Spotify

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