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riizegasm · 2 months ago

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Impure Intentions || L. CY (Anton)

❀ pairing: chaebol heir!anton x rival!reader, implied fem!reader

❀ genre: enemies to lovers (but not really), fluff, suggestive

❀ word count: ~6.7k

❀ warnings: explicit language, mentions of dysfunctional families, one heated kiss scene

❀ summary: From the day you were born, all you ever heard was, “don’t fall in love with Anton Lee.” A better heir to a multimillion dollar conglomerate would follow their family’s advice. But you…not so much.

❀ a/n: sheesh, talk about writer’s block. This work has taken me so long and so much effort, but i'm very proud of how it turned out! It may have even helped me out of my slump. Also, please don’t judge me too hard. I know nothing about business and corporate families!!! As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are strongly encouraged. Happy reading!

Your head aches. The lights in the banquet hall are too bright and the clink of gilded silverware is too loud. Polite chatter buzzes around you like a pesky fly evading a swatter. The air is suffocating, overly stuffy with high end perfumes and colognes clouding the space. This is torture; the Lee family banquets always are.

It would be better if you could enjoy the food or engage with the various guests like everyone else does, but this is enemy territory. Your family had made it abundantly clear that this was not an event for fun, but rather for scoping out the competition. Lectures about a corporate acquisition going south and details about poor contracting simply entered in one ear and left via the other. You didn’t care why you had to be there. The knowledge of your forced attendance did enough to damper your mood, especially once you were hit with all of the rules around your presence.

Sit still, look pretty, smile politely, eavesdrop on any corporate plans, and don’t talk to Anton Lee.

You never understood your family’s obsession with keeping you away from him, the prized son and heir of the Lee empire. Everyone made sure to fill your mind with negative opinions and baseless rumors about the young man, as if to deter you from even giving him a chance. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however. You’ve never even seen the man, let alone had a conversation with him. Anton Lee was much more of a mythical being than he was a person, in your eyes. He was always whispered about, but never seen.

From what you gathered, he was around your age, tall, broad, and supposedly extremely handsome. He was known for his overly harsh demeanor, rumored to command a room with a simple word. His presence apparently spoke volumes, enough to speak to his blunt nature and bad intentions. It made sense, your parents would always say. After all, he is a Lee.

“Fix your face, honey,” your mother snaps with a forced smile. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles before you turn thirty if you keep scowling like that.”

It takes everything in you to fight an eye roll, biting back the string of expletives waiting on the tip of your tongue. “Sorry. I’m going to run to the powder room.”

You don’t bother to wait for her response before excusing yourself from the cocktail table, getting lost in the crowds of people as you head towards the bathroom. Away from your family, the air feels somewhat lighter, although it still reeks of entitlement. The throb in your head is insistent now, forcing you to escape to find relief.

You find yourself heading towards a set of grandiose double doors, hoping they will lead you anywhere but here. Luckily, your prayers are answered as you step through them onto a stone balcony. The crisp nighttime air does wonders to cool your heated skin, a slight breeze ruffling the loose fabric of your dress.

This is exactly what you needed, space and solace.

“Rough night?”

A soft voice makes you jump out of your skin, whipping your head around to find the source. Its owner leans up against the exterior wall, somewhat bathed in shadow. All you can make out is a glimmer of white teeth, reflecting the moonlight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the figure apologizes, taking a small step forward into the light.

You feel your breath stutter in your chest as you take in the man. The first thing you notice is his sheer beauty, lips enticingly full and nose broad. His beauty is complemented by his tall stature, the height difference between you two becoming increasingly apparent as he approaches. Like this, bathed in the moonlight, it’s impossible not to notice the broadness of his shoulders and how they taper into a small waist. He fills out his all black suit beautifully, the garments clearly tailored to his every curve.

“Are you alright?” The man asks, stopping only a few feet away.

The concern in his tone is just enough to snap you out of your reverie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, um, needed some air.”

The man nods in understanding, leaning over to place his forearms against the balcony’s railing. You struggle not to eye the way his suit jacket stretches across an impossibly wide back. Instead, you mirror his stance, looking out at the beautiful gardens below, bathed in silvery moonlight. Just beyond the seemingly endless maze of hedges, you can make out what looks like a small lake, it’s surface rippling under the nighttime breeze.

“It can be stuffy in there,” the man says softly.

You find yourself hanging onto his every word, shocked that such a mild tone could come from such an intimidating man. “Yeah, it really can be.”

The man lets out a small chuckle, no doubt amused by your clear annoyance. “So I take it you’re not in the business.”

“No, I’m–,” you pause for a moment, not sure how much of your identity you should reveal to the stranger. “I’m related.”

He chuckles again, this time turning to look at you. “Hm, I guess I could say the same for me, then.”

A round of applause sounds from somewhere inside, and you curse under your breath, knowing your family will kill you for your absence. The man next to you seems unphased, as if he’s used to the party going on without him.

“I think I should get back.”

The man flashes you a smile, its brightness almost blinding in the dark. “That’s okay. It was nice chatting with you…”

“Y/N. And you are?”

“Anton,” he whispers. “I hope I can see you again, Y/N.”

An icy chill travels up your spine, momentarily freezing you in place. But you force yourself to remain composed, plastering a smile on your face. You silently thank your years of etiquette training and the countless social events you have had to smile for. With a slight nod of your head, you disappear back through the double doors, instantly choking on the scent of Chanel No. 5.

. . .

It’s easy to believe that your first encounter with Anton Lee would be your last, especially as the weeks pass without a single sign of him. It makes sense that he wouldn’t start making regular appearances at events after attending just once. He has managed to spend twenty years staying out of the spotlight, and you can’t imagine that changing now.

But, for some reason, you can’t help but search for him in the crowd of every gala or at the tables of any grandiose banquet.

He would be easy to spot, with his overwhelming height and dazzling smile. Maybe his honey brown hair would be slicked back off his forehead this time, or maybe it would hang in front of his eyes to conceal his bright gaze. You’re sure that he would still talk in that overly soft tone of his, somehow managing to command a room without a change in volume.

Even his absence begins to feel like a presence in and of itself, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You tell yourself that it’s simple intrigue and nothing more. The first time you had ever laid eyes on your supposed family nemesis had been on a balcony bathed in the moonlight. Where had he been all these years?

More importantly, why had he disappeared again?

The question runs through your mind as you accept a flute of champagne from a waiter, eyes flitting around the charity dinner in hopes of spotting a specific someone. Somewhere near the front of the banquet hall, the Lee family is seated at a table with a few other wealthy families, but their oldest son is nowhere to be found.

You crane your neck to get a better look. Just to be sure, you tell yourself. But the contorting you force yourself to do has you leaning right back into a waiter, your elbow knocking into his empty tray. The sudden movement has your champagne flute slipping out of your grasp, icy bubbles splattering across your chest and down the front of your dress. You can practically feel the daggers that your mother is shooting you from across the table, always having scolded you about the embarrassment that comes along with being a klutz. Before she can part her lips to tell you off, you excuse yourself politely, dashing out to find a restroom to freshen up.

You let your heeled feet carry you through a maze of hallways, side stepping waiters and party guests as you move further and further away from the event space. It’s only when you travel down a flight of stairs that you find yourself a seemingly private restroom, briefly stepping inside to clean yourself up. No matter how much you dab at the stain in the center of your bust, the wine doesn’t seem to budge. You thank the heavens that it was champagne instead of a red, saving you some degree of embarrassment.

After a few minutes in the restroom, you find yourself wandering around, ending up in a much more secluded lounge space, equipped with a couple of couches surrounding a coffee table. You immediately collapse onto one, sighing as the ache in your feet finally lifts.

It’s only then that you feel your eyes begin to sting, a familiar rush of heat striking your face as a lump begins to form in your throat. The sticky sweet smell of champagne still clings to your body, your dress uncomfortable where the alcohol seeped into it. You’re sure that you look a mess, knowing that tear smudged makeup would be the last thing to complete your disheveled look.

“Another rough night?”

The soft rasp of a voice instantly has you perking up, breath caught in your throat as you take in the tall figure approaching you. His crisply pressed suit hugs his broad shoulders and cinches at an impossibly small waist. His lips are quirked upwards into a small smirk, clearly teasing. Something about it is enticing, setting off a stampede in your stomach.

“How could you tell?” You mumble, trying not to stare as Anton settles into a lounge chair across from you.

The man’s smirk just deepens. “Wild guess. What happened?”

“I spilled champagne on myself and now I look a mess.”

“You don’t,” Anton states, smirk dropping from his face. “You could never look bad.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “How would you even know that? You’ve only seen me twice.”

Anton chuckles, finally relaxing into the plush of his chair. His legs separate ever so slightly at the action, allowing you to admire his mile-long legs. It’s almost frustrating, how perfect he looks. You imagine that if anyone never looks bad, it’s him.

“I’ve seen you way more than twice, Y/N.”

The simple statement has you turning your eyes away from his figure, meeting his open gaze. He seems so casual, so unbothered, as if that one sentence hasn’t turned your world upside down.

“Wait, what?” You find yourself tripping over your words in the rush to get them out. “Wh-what do you mean you’ve seen me more than twice? I only met you the first time at that contracting dinner a few weeks ago.”

Anton chuckles again, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “Yeah, that was the first time we’ve met, but I’ve seen you so many times. You and your family have been at every major event since we were kids. How could I not see you?”

“But, I’ve never–,”

“I know,” Anton interrupts. “I like to stay outside or in whatever lounge areas I can find. These things always make me really anxious.”

Wow, you didn’t expect such an honest admission from a man of Anton’s status. If anything, his candor makes him much more attractive, as if he could get even more perfect.

“You know we’re supposed to hate each other?” He asks, a small smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Apparently you’re my rival in the field, and I’m supposed to hate everything you say and do.”

Unfortunately, you know the feeling, causing you to let out a small giggle. “Oh trust me, I know. Do you, though?”

“Hate you?”

You nod, fighting a smile as Anton pretends to think.

“Nah,” he eventually answers. “My grandfather taught me from a very young age that I should never harbor negative feelings for beautiful women.”

The implication has heat rushing to your face, forcing you to struggle to keep your composure. “Well, my family has always told me that attractive men always have impure intentions.”

Anton chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He takes a beat before standing, letting his eyes rake over your still seated figure as he begins to retreat down the hallway. It’s impossible to decipher where the intensity of his gaze stems from. He eyes you as if he were hungry, trapping you against the couch with his stare alone.

“Then let me show you just how impure my intentions are.”

The man is gone with little more than a wink and a smile, leaving you with warm cheeks and the scent of champagne clouding your nose.

. . .

You’re surprised to see Anton as soon as the next event, only three weeks later. It’s a simple charity ball for some rare disease research, but for some reason, Anton has decided not to hide in the shadows for this event. It’s interesting to watch how despite his supposed anxiety, he is clearly in his element. He greets everyone kindly, shooting various guests a charming smile as he is introduced to them. His father looks proud of him, a hand kept clapped over his shoulder the entire time.

You wonder if he’s comfortable like this, with a blur of people and faces constantly passing by him. However, you are instantly snapped out of your wondering when a manicured hand grips your shoulder. The feeling of your mothers lips close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine, a perpetually bad omen.

“Straighten up,” she scolds. “We’re going over to talk to the Lees. Their son is making a public appearance at an event like this for the first time. No funny business.”

You would laugh if not for the uncomfortable way her nails dig into your shoulder. It forces you to instantly fall in line behind your father, taking a deep breath as you get closer to the Lees. What is only a few seconds feels like hours until you finally stand face to face with your supposed rival.

“Yoon Sang, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” your father greets, shaking the hands of the head of the Lee family.

He even leans in to place a friendly kiss on Mrs. Lee’s cheek. You find yourself standing frozen in place as the parents exchange greetings, unable to do anything but stare at the man before you. He sports his signature charming smile, mouth full of perfectly white teeth on display. Not for the first time, you feel your face grow warm.

“We thought it was about time for our Y/N to meet Anton. After all, they will be competitors when they take over the respective businesses, right?”

Your father’s comment snaps you back to attention. However, you are immediately distracted by the feeling of Anton’s large hand engulfing yours, his palm both warm and surprisingly soft to the touch. You have to glance upwards to meet his eyes, but it’s impossible to miss the amused glint in his stare.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I have heard so much about you.”

You force a smile on your face. “The pleasure is all mine.”

It’s easy to tune out the conversation after that, letting the adults blabber on while you reminisce about the feeling of Anton’s hand in yours. The man seems to be similarly distracted, clearly eyeing your figure. The silence between you speaks volumes, and you hope your parents are too deaf to hear it.

“We would love to have Anton over at our headquarters sometime,” your mother suggests, her piercing voice rising above the noise of the ball. “I’m sure Y/N would be happy to show him around!”

You don’t even have time to process the full body panic that begins to overcome you before Anton’s family is readily agreeing.

“I agree that it would be great for them to know the ins and outs of the business,” Mr. Lee replies with an overly saccharine smile. “We would love to have Y/N over for lunch at the estate as well. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find themselves to be friends.”

Your dad chuckles, obviously disgusted by the thought. “You’re so right. The two might even do a merger some day!”

As the group erupts into phony laughter, you feel the beginnings of a migraine tingling behind your left eye. Something about the cacophony of laughs and the dull classical music is making you ache, your stomach starting to swim with nausea. You dare a glance upward, fighting the pain that blooms in your head with the motion.

Anton’s gaze is bright where it meets yours, a soft smile poised on his full lips. His cheeks are dusted with a slight blush, clearly flustered by the implications. There’s a slight fidget in his fingers, twirling expensive rings as a means of soothing himself.

He’s cute, you realize, not for the first time.

It’s only after a few more moments that the families say goodbye, the Lees promising to send a lunch invitation soon. Anton shoots you another smile before he follows behind his family, suddenly looking small despite his large stature. You can’t help but smile as you watch his departure, suddenly realizing that your migraine has disappeared.

. . .

The Lee estate is just as gorgeous as you expected it to be, with tall stone gates and artfully placed landscaping. It looks impossibly large from where you’re seated in the car, causing nerves to begin to creep up your spine. You pass off the butterflies that begin to flutter in your core as obvious intimidation that comes with being on the property of your family’s biggest rivals. It surely has nothing to do with an overly soft voice, broad shoulders, and kind eyes.

“Remember,” your mother had told you before sending you off. “This is business. Reveal nothing and absorb everything. And most importantly, remember that Anton Lee is not your friend.”

You take a step out onto the perfectly paved driveway, surprised to already see someone standing by the door. Anton seems to perk up when you lock eyes, shooting you a polite smile. His wave betrays his excitement, though. You imagine that if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging.

“Y/N, hey! I’m glad you actually came.”

“Please,” you shoot him a cheeky smile. “As if I could ever turn down an invitation from the Lee family.”

Anton lets out a slight groan. “Don’t remind me that this is ‘business.’”

“Well then what would you like for me to call it?”

Anton shrugs, turning to hold the front door open for you. It’s only when you pass through the threshold, Anton still standing behind you that he responds.

“A lunch date.” Before you have the chance to respond, Anton is shutting the door behind you both. “Come this way. Food’s on the patio.”

It takes a few turns down intricate hallways to get to a set of double doors that lead to the patio. As promised, there’s an assortment of sandwiches and salad laid out on a round table, two seats set across from each other. You would be impressed, if not for the even more stunning view that lay before you.

The patio looks out on sprawling gardens, tall bushes and blooming flowers swaying softly in the breeze. A little beyond the landscaping, a wooden dock leads out to a large pond, its greenish-blue water seemingly sparkling under the midday sun.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe out, unable to take your eyes off the sight before you.

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? My parents have always had an affinity for water.”

You imagine that all of their properties have pools or lakes, much like this one. Meanwhile, your own family prefers the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle, never expanding beyond brutalist modern penthouses in the tallest apartment buildings in the city. It must be nice, you imagine, to have a space that feels like a home and not just another office.

Eventually, the two of you sit, settling into a comfortable silence as you distribute food amongst yourselves. It’s quite amusing to watch Anton as he eats, clearly possessing the hunger of a growing young man while forcing himself to take small bites and practice the etiquette of an heir. You wonder if you look the same, so obviously restrained while you want to let loose, if only for a bit.

Despite the fact that you haven’t seen another person since you set foot in the Lee estate, you know that people must be somewhere. There are always eyes on you.

“I’m surprised that your family was so adamant about having me over,” you begin, settling back in your chair. “I thought I was the enemy.”

Anton smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well you know what they say. Keep the enemy close and all that.”

“Is that what you want to do? Keep me close?”

You know you’re treading in dangerous waters. All it would take is one word about the obvious flirting to Anton’s parents for you to become your family’s disgrace. You can practically see the headline now: Conglomerate Heiress Gets Rejected By Rivals’ Son. Your family would disown you. And yet, as color begins to flood Anton’s cheeks, you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“Yeah,” he says, voice coming out even softer than usual. “I think that is what I want to do.”

You duck your head, clearing your throat in an attempt to settle the flutter in your stomach. “I’d like that.”

A sudden interest in lunch leaves both of you munching away in silence. It’s peaceful, despite blushing cheeks and racing heartbeats. It allows you to realize that being around Anton is unlike being around anyone else in your family’s circle. Here, there’s no pressure to be prim and proper, no pressure to listen out for secret ins and outs of business.

It’s odd to find comfort in the one person who is supposed to bring you anything but. And yet, with the warmth of the sun on your face and the pleasant fullness in your belly, you’ve never felt more at home.

“You know,” Anton starts once you have both cleared your plates. “I think we’re supposed to be talking about business.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Can I be honest?”

Anton nods slightly, honey brown hair shifting across his forehead.

“The business is the last thing I want to talk about.”

Anton smiles. “Trust me, I feel the same way.”

There’s a beat of silence, the two of you content to simply sit as the breeze ruffles the flowers that dot the landscape. When Anton speaks again, you watch his mouth, noting the way that his lips hold the same hue of the red tulips in the nearby flower bed.

“Can I show you something?”

The simple question has your gaze flickering back upwards, trying to ignore the way your heart races when his eyes meet yours.

“Sure,” you whisper, words instantly carried away by the wind.

Following behind Anton through the grass proves to be harder than you imagined, his long legs allowing him to move with a grace and speed that is difficult to match. He leads you in between a maze of flower beds, bringing you deeper into the garden until you’re surrounded by tall hedges on either side. From here, it’s impossible to see the house, so you just continue to follow behind Anton. You find yourself eyeing the broadness of his shoulders and the way his shirt shifts across the muscles of his back as he walks. It’s hypnotizing, so much so that you don’t realize that you have arrived at your destination.

“This is my thinking spot,” Anton says with a little flutter of his arms, clearly trying to present the space to you.

The hedge maze has opened up to a small central pocket, not housing much except for a small fountain and a stone bench. Anton is quick to take a seat, motioning for you to occupy the space next to him. It’s a bit of a squeeze, putting you and Anton close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin on your own. You dig your nails into the stone of the bench, hoping that it will steel your nerves.

“I like to come out here when my parents get in my head about the business. It’s pretty peaceful.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, despite knowing that no one is within earshot. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

There’s an airiness to Anton’s voice that has you turning to face him. You take in a sharp inhale when you notice that his eyes are already on you, the close proximity leaving your faces mere inches away from each other. The overwhelming rush of blood in your ears forces you to turn away, taking a deep breath to calm your thundering heartbeat.

“You take all the girls here?” You aim for teasing, but the slight break in your voice makes it err more on the side of desperation.

Anton shakes his head earnestly. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here who isn’t my family.”

The admission feels like a sucker punch to the gut. Except there’s no pain, just a rush of warmth that climbs up your throat like ivy. Anton is clearly surprised as well, his own words deepening the pretty flush that has taken hold on his cheeks. His bottom lip is trapped by his teeth, its plushness oh so enticing in the afternoon sun.

“Y-you know,” you stutter out, swallowing thickly before continuing. “When you said you had impure intentions, I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t think I could joke about how bad I want you.”

It should feel like a corny line. It should feel like something he says to all the girls. After all, he’s Anton Lee. He could get anyone he wanted at the drop of a hat. So why does it feel so real when he says it to you? Why does it feel like those words are meant for you, and only you?

Anton’s gravity is pulling you closer, allowing you to lean further into his space. You’re close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, coming out in gentle puffs that reveal just how fast his heart is racing. He has released his bottom lip by now, leaving it glossy with saliva. It’s impossible not to anticipate the smooth glide of it against your own.

A sudden vibration snaps you both out of your bubble, the two of you popping apart as if you were repelling magnets. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the vibration is coming from your own phone, buzzing incessantly. You shoot Anton an apologetic look before stepping away to take the call.

“We need you back home,” your mother rushes from the other side of the line, not bothering to waste time greeting you. “Your father wants to hear about your business with the Lees before he heads to his strategy meeting in an hour.”

“But the Lee house is thirty minutes away!”

You can practically hear your mother’s eye roll over the phone. “Then you better get going.”

. . .

Business meeting, my house at 4pm?

The text comes as both a surprise and the most expected invitation in the world. In your flurry to leave his house the week before, you had made sure to leave the man with your number. In turn, he smiled wide, promising to invite you over for another “business meeting” soon.

Before you can inquire about how much business will actually be necessary to discuss, your phone buzzed again.

My parents just left for a business trip to Milan.

A flutter rushes through your stomach at the implications. It’s clear what that means, that the two of you will finally have a chance to act on your chemistry without the watchful eyes of competitive families. The two of you will finally get to exist as your own people, and not as rivals and heirs of major global conglomerates.

The thought alone has you spending extra time on your appearance as you get ready. You make sure your hair sits just right and that your lips are perfectly glossy before pulling on a swimsuit and heading over. You try your best to remain as still as possible during the entire ride there, knowing that nerves in combination with the late summer heat will be enough to set you aflame.

Your heart is slamming in your chest by the time you finally pull into Anton’s driveway. It’s accompanied by a soft flutter of affection when you spot Anton’s figure, waving at you from the doorway. The wide smile on his face alone is enough to melt you. But the relaxed fit of his muscle tee and the way his swim shorts sit low on his hips has your face flooding with heat.

He greets you with a tight hug when you cross the threshold into the house. You try not to swoon at the firm pressure of his arms around your torso, ignoring the heat of his bare skin on your own. Anton had never touched you before, not beyond a simple handshake exchanged in front of parents, always respectful to a fault. For the first time, you find yourself grateful for that fact, knowing that now that you’ve had a taste of his touch, you will forever be addicted.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Anton gushes. “My parents have been really getting on my nerves about business and competition lately.”

“So you decided to invite the competition over to chill?”

Anton smiles, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “No, I invited the competition over to swim!”

So that’s why he reminded you to wear a bathing suit mere minutes before you left for his house. It makes sense, from the minimal texts that the two of you exchanged. Anton was always excited about the balanced heat of late summer, citing it as the perfect time for a lakeside swim. You wouldn’t know, of course, never having the luxury of having a lake in your backyard.

“What about your staff?”

“I let everyone have the afternoon off,” Anton responds proudly before letting his smile sink into something softer, more private. “I just wanted us to have some time alone.”

The simple admission rings out loudly in the otherwise quiet house. It’s clear how badly Anton wants this, how bad he wants your company despite the taboo that comes with it. Unsurprisingly, you find yourself wanting it just as bad, if not more. You’ve never craved anyone’s presence the way you have craved Anton’s, despite him being the one person in the world that you supposedly need to keep your distance from.

A small nod on your end is enough for Anton’s smile to grow once again, pearly whites on full display as his eyes wrinkle at the corners. The sight alone has your heart beating a little harder in your chest, the minor flutter in your abdomen growing into a full stampede of emotions. The feeling only intensifies as Anton engulfs your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he leads you out into the backyard.

The late afternoon sun sparkles against the water, illuminating everything in a blue-yellow glow. It’s the most captivating sight for miles, you’re sure, until Anton begins to take his shirt off. The way his muscles shift under his unblemished skin rivals the beautiful surface of the lake, sparkling in its own way. His shoulder blades dance across his back enticingly as he leans down to remove his socks and shoes.

He shoots you a smile over his shoulder before cannonballing right into the water.

It takes only a few seconds for the man to reemerge, slicking his honey brown hair off of his forehead. His biceps bulge with the movement before waving you into the water. It’s as clear of a signal as any, but you can’t help but hesitate, suddenly shy at the thought of stripping down to your bikini in the presence of such a man. But the delicate reflection of sunlight in his eyes and the easy smile on his face is enough to draw you in.

Before you know it, you’re discarding your clothes, taking a running head start to join Anton in the water.

Your skin is submerged in an icy chill, the water surprisingly cool for so late in the day. But soon the warmth of another body is nearing, making the cold that much more bearable. You resurface with a giggle, giddy from the feeling of swimming so long. Instantly, Anton is joining in, clearly happy seeing you filled with such glee.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” You exclaim, shrieking when Anton splashes a bit of water your way.

“It’ll get better,” Anton grins. “You just gotta keep swimming.”

It’s easy to do as told, letting your body relax as you continue to wade in the cool water. Eventually you let yourself fall into your back, feeling the contrast between the warm sun on your face and the cool water surrounding your body. It’s serene, allowing you to let your worries quite literally float away. However, the feeling of a chilled hand grazing your hip is enough to snap you out of your relaxation, scrambling to right yourself in panic.

“Sorry!” Anton chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just getting bored without you.”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, finding that the pace of your heart is beginning to quicken for an entirely different reason.

Anton looks especially beautiful like this, with his damp hair splayed messily across his head and drops of water dripping down his face. The sun has just begun to set, painting Anton’s skin with a beautiful golden hue. His eyes glisten just like the water, sunlight sparkling as it dances across the reflective surfaces. Like this, Anton seems so bright, so luminous, that hating him seems impossible.

“I’m really glad you came today,” Anton says, his voice dropping to that soft shy tone he always uses in the presence of others. “I’m glad to have someone who gets what it's like.”

You can’t resist the smile that begins to tug on the corners of your mouth. “You’re not just saying this to get my family’s business secrets?”

Anton huffs out a laugh. “No. I’m saying this because I really like you. I like spending time with you, even though I’m supposed to hate it.”

With every word, you find yourself drifting closer to the man, his hand remaining steady on your hip as you tread lightly. Despite the obvious effort to keep your head above water, you feel like you’re drowning. But the slick feeling of Anton’s skin against yours reminds you that you won’t drown. Anton won’t let you.

“I like you, too.”

The simple admission has Anton’s face flushing, the pretty rose color glistening orange in the light. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. You hate to dull his beauty in this moment, but you have to.

“But what about our families? It’s not like the two of us can ever be anything.”

Anton sighs, his face dropping with realization. “I know, but…is it crazy to say that I don’t care?”

The hand on your hip tightens, pulling you even closer into Anton’s space. It’s close enough that the two of you end up bumping knees every so often, constantly moving to keep yourselves afloat. Here, in his space, you can see the way that his lashes cast subtle shadows on his cheeks. It’s easy to count the few moles that pepper his face and neck, sitting stark upon unblemished skin.

When his eyes meet yours, it becomes clear what you wish to do. No, what you need to do.

“Anton,” you whisper. “What did you mean when you said you had impure intentions?”

The man moves to open his mouth, but before he can get the first syllable out, you cut him off.

“Don’t tell me,” you coo. “Show me.”

You would be lying if you said you never thought about the feeling of Anton’s plush lips on yours. In reality, you spent too many nights lying awake, thinking about the slick feel of his mouth on yours, of the way his large hands would feel clutching onto your body, of the feel of his soft brown strands underneath your fingertips.

But dreams never compare to the real thing.

Nothing could compare to the pure bliss of having Anton’s mouth slide against your own. He moves fervently, letting the kiss carry the twinge of desperation that you both have felt since you’ve met. It’s far from the polite way that you expected Anton Lee to kiss, but that makes it that much better.

His nose grazes your cheek as he tilts his head, angling himself to kiss you deeper. His tongue is warm as it eases its way into your mouth, the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill of the lake. The hand that was once grasping your hip travels down to your backside and thigh, lifting you up to wrap yourself around his waist. It’s improper, at the very least, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Anton sighs softly into your mouth.

It feels like ages before the two of you part, chests heaving where they remain pressed together. You’re so close that you imagine that even water can’t exist between you two. Anton’s abdomen is solid where your core is pressed up against him, supporting your weight so that neither of you are at risk of sinking.

“That,” Anton whispers, “is what I meant by impure intentions.

You can’t help but giggle at the boy’s breathless tone, suddenly feeling giddy that you were the one to make him this way. You were the one to fluster the ever-perfect Anton Lee. It was you. It’s always been you.

“Our parents…” you mutter reflexively, your mind a war zone.

“Hey,” Anton coos, bringing a hand under your chin.

With just a gentle tilt, you meet his eyes, instantly getting lost in the way his gaze bores into yours. As if he can’t help himself, Anton leans in to place a quick peck on your lips. When you part, a soft whine escapes your lips, mourning the loss of your lover’s kiss.

“Y/N, we’ll figure it out. I won’t let this go south because of our parents.”

You nod nervously, trying your hardest to believe in the reassurance that Anton is trying to provide you. As if he could sense the residual nerves, Anton presses his lips against your forehead in a soft kiss. The sensation makes your eyes flutter shut, a content smile beginning to grown on your face. After a brief moment, Anton chuckles.

“Who knows?” He mutters. “Maybe our parents will get that merger after all.”

. . .

[8 years later]

BREAKING NEWS: Lee Enterprises and TOTAL, Inc. have announced a historic merger to form one mega-corporation. This announcement comes one year after CEO and President of Lee Enterprises, Anton Lee, and Chairperson of TOTAL, Inc., Y/N Y/L/N, announced their marriage. The new multinational conglomerate will be known as Lakeside, LLC, and is said to have a current stock value of over five billion dollars.

.FIN.

#anton imagines #riize imagines #riize #anton lee #riize fluff #riize smut #written in the stars

456 notes · View notes

zarameraki · 11 months ago

Text

˖°🦇 ࣪𖤐 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mention of suicide 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 bodyguard x senator’s daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 sarcastic mmc x fmc who’s tired of his bs 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 soft toji 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 toji’s not an ass for the first time 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 bathtub sex 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 5.9k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this is my first one-shot and of course it had to be about my favourite unhinged man. i promise it’s good, y’all. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

You hated being the senator’s daughter—burdened by the title you never chose. Despite the grandeur that surrounded you, you despised the life you were born into. The opulent dinners, the endless social events, and the constant scrutiny from the public were chains that bound your spirit.

If you had any spirit left to spare.

You yearned for a life of your own, away from the suffocating expectations that came with your father's political stature. You resented the polished façade you had to maintain, the carefully crafted image that hid your true self. The constant presence of the media felt like an unrelenting spotlight, casting darkness over your desire for anonymity.

The large ballroom was ablaze with sparkling lights and the murmur of conversations mingled with the soft strains of a live jazz band. You found herself at the center of attention, a reluctant participant in the grand social affair, unwillingly cornered by a persistent suitor your mother had chosen from the roster. Apparently, his family wealth and business ventures were the most fascinating topics he could think of.

You wore a forced smile and desperately sought a way out of the conversation. Your eyes darted across the room, searching for an escape route.

". . . you see, our corporation has been at the forefront of innovation for decades," the suitor boasted, gesturing expansively with his hands. "We practically built this city. My great-grandfather was a visionary, and my father has expanded our influence globally. I'm destined to take it to even greater heights."

“How wonderful,” you muttered. The suffocating aura of the suitor’s self-importance lingered in the air. Just as he reached out to place a possessive hand on your arm, a deep, graveling voice cut through the conversation.

“Careful,” warned Toji. His eyes, sharp and vigilant, locked onto your suitor’s hand, which froze in mid-air. “Take a step back, and we won’t have a problem.”

The suitor, momentarily taken aback, withdrew his hand with an affected chuckle. "Ah, my apologies. I was only admiring your bracelet. It's exquisite, really."

You shot Toji a glare as you replied, "Thank you for your compliment. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be returning home now. Senatorial matters to attend to, you understand."

His eyes narrowed, and he attempted to regain control of the situation. "But surely, darling, you wouldn't want to miss the grand finale of the evening. There's a surprise performance that my connections secured."

Before you could respond, Toji stepped forward, a stern expression on his face. "The evening is over, Mr. Mahito. She has other obligations to fulfill."

Mr. Mahito, a name you’d forgotten at his ‘hello,’ glared at Toji but wisely chose not to challenge the imposing figure. With a forced smile, he nodded and said, "Of course, I understand. Until next time."

As if.

Toji couldn't help but scoff under his breath, earning a side glance from you. "Does he ever run out of compliments for himself?"

You sighed. "He's harmless, Mr. Zenin. Just trying to impress, that’s all."

"Harmless, maybe, but annoying as fuck."

You eyed Toji with curiosity. "Why the sudden interest in my love life, Mr. Zenin? Jealousy, perhaps?"

He smirked, a rare hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "Jealousy? Princess, I guarantee you, I'm far too professional for such bullshit.”

You shot him a playful glance. "You know, if you were a little less broody and a bit more charming, you might have a chance."

His facade cracked, and a genuine smile played on his lips, that scar stealing your attention again. "Charm has its time and place.” He opened the back door of the limousine and nudged you inside. “I prefer to keep you safe."

Toji was insufferable just as he was tall. Dressed in a compressed black t-shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and chiseled torso, he exuded an air of quiet intensity. The long, dark tendrils of his hair poked his half-hooded eyes that always carried a mist of amusement. He was a silent guardian who navigated seamlessly between your shadows and the limelight.

You remember the first day your father had introduced your newly assigned bodyguard. All you could do was ogle the devilishly handsome man and pray your father and his security detail didn’t hear you swallow too hard or sit with your legs clenched together.

You appreciated the fact that he was fantastic at his job. At least in the first couple of months. But after you’d started your fourth year at university, Toji practically glued himself to you.

It was like he was your shadow, and you couldn’t escape. You get it, Dad was a senator, and security is essential, but did they have to assign you the clingiest bodyguard on the planet?

You’d gone on a blind date a few weeks back with yet another pretentious finance head, and Toji had himself stationed on the table adjacent to yours. When your date had stepped out to use the bathroom, Toji leaned over the table, and you remember how his biceps had flexed and that infuriating smirk played at his lips.

"Princess," he drawled, using that irritating nickname he's given you. As if being the daughter of a senator automatically made you royalty. "You should smile more. It might help with those lines forming on your forehead."

You hoped he choked on his own smugness.

But then there were those moments when the loneliness crept in, and the isolation became too much to bear. In those moments, his sarcastic banter was a lifeline, a distraction from the weight of your responsibilities. You found yourself craving the very company you claimed to detest.

You caught him smirking as you glanced in the rearview mirror, and for a moment, you forgot about the suffocating expectations, the political games, and the constant surveillance.

It's just you and Toji.

The soft hum of the elevator filled the air as you and Toji stepped into the sleek, mirrored enclosure leading up to your apartment. You looked like you had just stepped out of a battle with a jungle cat. Your eyes, once vibrant, were now shadowed with fatigue, and your normally impeccable hair fell in disarray around your shoulders.

You sighed, the weariness evident. "I can't believe this day. Non-stop meetings, interviews, endless parties, and galas. I feel like I've been running a marathon in heels."

"Well, at least you made it out in one piece, Princess."

You fired him a tired glare. "Don't call me that. You know I hate it."

"Sure thing, Your Highness," he replied, a teasing edge in his voice.

As the elevator smoothly ascended, your legs wobbled, and you swayed slightly. Without thinking, you reached out for support, your hand landing on Toji’s muscular arm. He felt the sudden weight and turned to look at you, eyebrows raised to the roof.

"Whoa there, easy," he said, his voice softer than before.

You blushed an outlandish shade of red. "I'm sorry. I'm just so exhausted. I didn't mean to—"

Toji cut you with a grin, his tone filled with mock concern. "Princess, if you're going to faint, at least do it gracefully. No need to ruin my reputation as the best bodyguard in town."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played on your lips. "I'm not going to faint. Just a moment of weakness. That’s possible for even women like me, you know."

He chuckled. "Well, weak moments can be dangerous, especially in this line of work. You never know who might take advantage."

The elevator pinged, announcing their arrival at your floor. You straightened up, a renewed sense of determination in your eyes. "Thanks for the concern, tough guy, but I'll manage." You punched in the key code of your apartment door, the security light flashing green. "You can head home now. I’ll be fine from here."

"Oh, absolutely, Princess. But you know the drill—protocol and all. Can't leave the precious cargo unattended until it's safely delivered to its destination."

Your patience was wearing thin as you turned and brushed chests with the jester in black. “Mr. Zenin, for the hundredth time, I don't need an escort to my front door. I can handle myself."

Toji chuckled, the sound low and teasing. "Sure, sure. But what if a rogue pigeon attacks you on your way in? Or a gust of wind blows too hard, and you lose your balance? It's a treacherous world out there."

“We are indoors. There’s no rogue pigeons or a windstorm.”

Toji wore his stubbornness alongside his pride. “Just doin’ my job.”

You sighed, realizing arguing with him was futile. "Fine, come in if it makes you feel better, but then you're leaving."

"Sure," he said, holding the door open with a flourish as you entered the sterile, monochromatic apartment. From the high ceilings to the marble flooring, it was all your mother’s idea. For God’s sake, it was your apartment. You wanted earthly tones, Persian rugs, and a cat. A European tabby. You have wanted it since the day you were born because being an only child was like living in a house full of ghosts.

Your heels hit the floor with a muted thud, and your shawl cascaded down in a haphazard swirl as you brushed it off your shoulders. You sunk into the plush armrest of the couch, sighing deeply as you closed your eyes, attempting to shake off the fatigue that clung to you like a second skin. You were beginning to regret the three glasses of champagne to tune out tonight’s event.

"So, I’m guessing you’ve got another glamorous night in the political arena tomorrow, huh?" Toji asked.

You opened your eyes, your gaze meeting his, and managed a weak smile. "You have no idea. Sometimes, I feel like I'm caught in a never-ending dance of smiles and handshakes."

He pushed himself off the doorframe and strolled toward you. "Well, lucky for you, I'm a decent dance partner. Just not sure about my smile and handshake skills."

You wanted to tell him he had a nice smile, that the scar really added a touch of mystery to him—a mystery that kept you on your toes. He also had really large hands that you found yourself staring at during meetings or drives.

You ran a hand through your hair, loosening a few strands that framed your face. Toji’s eyes lingered on you, a subtle appreciation in his stare. Without thinking, he stepped in front of you, his fingers gently tucking the stray hair behind your ear.

"You've got a talent for getting yourself into these messes, Princess," he remarked, his voice low and intimate. His touch lingered, brushing against your cheek and then down to your neck. Unintentionally, his fingers traced the soft skin.

Your breath caught, the unexpected contact sending a shiver down your spine. You met his eyes, finding a silver of vulnerability in his usually cheeky behavior. For a moment, the air crackled with an unspoken tension. Toji, realizing the accidental breach of boundaries, withdrew his hand, mumbling, "Got a bit carried away there."

Your tired eyes softened with a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. "It's okay, Mr. Zenin. Just . . . let's just chalk it up to exhaustion.”

He straightened up. "Yeah, exhaustion. That's exactly it."

Nodding, you stood from your spot and awkwardly patted his shoulder. “You can see yourself out."

He raised a fascinated brow at the gesture, the scar curling up in a half-smile.

As you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, you couldn't shake the feeling of Toji’s calloused fingertips circling from your ear, knuckles softly brushing your cheekbone and down to your neck. The sensation lingered, sending shivers down your spine.

You entered the bathroom, the cool tiles beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth building within you, turning on your bathtub’s faucet. The running water drowned out your racing thoughts as you undressed. Your fingers traced the curves of your body, and your eyes, filled with self-doubt, studied your reflection in the bathroom mirror. The image staring back at you was proof of years of dieting imposed by your mother's relentless pursuit of the perfect political image.

You sighed, shoulders slumping, yet the boulders of burden settled upon them refused to fall. As you raised your head, you caught a glimpse of someone in the reflection behind you. “What the f—” A chill ran down your spine as you turned around, heart pounding.

There, in the doorway, stood Toji, his green gaze fixed on your face.

“What the hell are you doing here?" you demanded, wrapping your arms protectively around your breasts, hand covering your lower region.

Toji’s eyes softened, his usual sarcasm substituted by concern. "I heard you talking to yourself. Thought you might need some company."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "That's not an invitation to barge in!"

“I'm your bodyguard, and part of my job is to make sure you're secure, even if it means guarding you in your own bathroom.”

“I'm perfectly safe in my own bathroom. Besides, you're not my babysitter."

Obviously, he ignored you and took a step closer to the tub, his eyes never leaving yours. He turned off the faucet just as the water was at the perfect level. His hand dipped in the steaming water. “Hot.”

“Oh my god, get out!”

“Get in.”

“What?”

“Get your ass in the tub.”

You rolled your eyes but didn't back down. "I'm not getting into that bathtub with you hovering over me like a hawk."

Toji sighed exasperatedly.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by a crack in his patience. "What's so urgent that you can't leave me alone for five minutes?"

He hesitated for a moment before smirking. "I want to wash your hair."

"Wash my hair?" you echoed.

"Yeah. I heard it's the latest trend in personal security."

You shouldn’t have chuckled, but you did anyway. Everything about this situation had blown out of proportion, escalated from zero to a million, and put an interesting mark on your otherwise professional relationship with your bodyguard.

Toji extended his hand, a silent invitation. You were at his beck and call in five seconds, lowering your hands from your bare body, and not once did he check you out. However, the tick in his jaw and the subtle flare of his nostrils easily gave him away. You accepted his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours—his touch was firm yet gentle. You gingerly stepped into the embrace of the steaming water, sinking low until it covered your shoulders.

Toji wet your hair before squeezing a handful of shampoo into his palm, his hands strong yet gentle as he began to work the lather into your hair. His fingers moved in rhythmic circles, massaging your scalp with a skill that spoke of experience. The sensation of his touch, combined with the warm water, created a cocoon of comfort. The tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away, replaced by a strange but welcome calm.

"Seriously, though, why are you doing this?” you asked. “Bodyguards aren't typically known for their hairdressing skills."

Toji flashed a wry grin. "Rumor has it that a well-groomed princess is a happy princess. Plus, it's in the fine print of the bodyguard handbook—section 37, subsection B: 'Haircare Duties.'"

“But I’m not a princess.”

“Not to me,” he murmured.

As the water streamed down your back, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the tranquility of his caretaking. "Mr. Zenin," you whispered, your voice a gentle hum, "this is a side of you I never knew existed."

He chuckled softly, continuing to pour water over your hair. "I wear many hats, Princess. Tonight, I'm just Toji."

Your eyes opened, meeting his gaze. “Toji.”

He paused for a moment, his hands still in your hair. The only sound was the rhythmic patter of lingering water droplets leaving the faucet. You could feel the shift in his demeanor, a subtle tenseness that hadn't been there before. It was as if the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees.

He cleared his throat, a nervous habit you had never noticed before. “First time you’ve said my name.”

Oh.

In a daring move, Toji let his fingers linger on your neck, his touch feather-light. Your breath hitched in your throat, or maybe it was his hand curling around your trachea that stopped it. He leaned down, his nose brushing against yours. If he kissed you now, you would never look at your bathtub as a source of taking your own life again. If he kissed you now, you would never look at him the same again. If he kissed you now, you’d drown in it. It would be the only time you willingly would without coming back up for air at the last minute.

Your hand reached up and cupped the back of his head as a green sign. Toji leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. The world seemed to hold its breath as he lingered there for a moment. Then, with a slow and deliberate motion, he parted your mouth with his tongue, seeking permission, and you welcomed him wholeheartedly.

But as quick as the kiss happened, the quicker he pulled back.

“Fuck.”

Your heart sunk.

Fuck, indeed.

Confusion and hurt flickered across your face as you struggled to comprehend the sudden twist in your actions. You hadn't considered the consequences, the potential risks that a romantic entanglement could pose to both of you. The weight of your privilege and his responsibility pressed heavily on both of your shoulders. "Toji, I thought . . .”

He suddenly stood, and you reached out with your hand, grazing his arm, frightened that he was going to walk away and leave you wallowing alone in your guilt. "Well, well," he drawled, the corners of his mouth lifting in a sardonic smile. Slowly, he tilted your chin up with a gentle touch. "I never thought I'd see the day when the senator's daughter would be so desperate for her bodyguard's attention."

A flush of embarrassment crept up on your cheeks, and you tried to pull away, but Toji’s grip on your chin remained firm.

“Desperation suits you, Princess," he continued, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite place. "But remember, we're playing with fire here."

"You're one to talk, Mr. Zenin. Who kissed who first?"

His laughter echoed throughout the bathroom. "Touché, sweetheart. Touché."

You lowered your eyes, hugging your knees to your chest. “Whatever. You can leave now.”

“Leave? Not a fucking chance.” Toji’s boisterous laugh made you jump. He started taking off his shirt and tossing it aside. “It’s your turn to wash my hair.”

“W-What?”

He responded by unbuckling his belt and lowering his trousers, leaving him in his boxer briefs. Your hands covered your eyes when he was completely naked and incredibly erect. “What, you’ve never seen a naked man before, Princess?”

“Once,” you mumbled. You weren’t a virgin, a secret only you knew. It was during the first-year of university when you’d hooked up with one of your mother’s best friend’s son. Both your families had high hopes of an engagement, but you were against the idea. Thank goodness for that. He’d lasted about five minutes into the sex before collapsing on top of you. It was a painful disaster.

“You just signed a man’s death wish,” Toji said, settling into the tub with you. The water sloshed around him, cascading over the edges of the tub and creating small puddles on the marble floor.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper breathlessly.

"Taking a bath? Now, now, sweetheart. Don’t be mean." He reclined against the tub's porcelain edge, the water clinging to the contours of his muscular frame. “Why are you so far away? Come here.”

Your body defied your intentions as it glided away from the corner, moving towards him. His left leg extended while the right one bent, with the cap of his knee emerging from the water. Your small hand cradled it, guiding you closer until you were seated just inches away from his erection.

Toji splashed water over your face, causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Toji!”

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” He tilted his head back, accentuating the chiseled contours of his jaw. His chest resonated with laughter. “You’re so pretty when you blush for me.” His large hand slithered to your nape and tugged you forward, claiming your lips in a feverish, powerful kiss, where his teeth pulled your bottom lip and sucked on it. It frustrated you that, once again, he broke away first, leaving you to whimper. “Turn around. On all fours.”

The questions fizzled out on your tongue. “Are you going to . . .”

“Fuck you?” He arched an eyebrow, the damp strands of his hair swaying in sync with the tilt of his head. “Fuck yes.” His lashes lowered, giving his eyes a dangerously dark glint. “Unless you don’t want me—”

“No!” The words slipped out before you could stop them. “No, I never . . . I want you to.”

“To what?”

Oh, he was really a dick. “I . . . want you to fuck . . me.”

He wet his bottom lip. “How do you want me to fuck you, sweet girl?”

Your chest rose and fell in synchrony with the ebb and flow of the situation. “I don’t know. I’ve only had sex once.”

“Baby, there’s a major difference between having sex and being fucked.”

On cue, your legs instinctively clenched in an attempt to find relief. “Are you clean?”

Toji raked his fingers through his hair and made a spinning gesture with his finger. Your body followed the motion, turning away from him and gripping the tub’s edge. “Wanna know a secret, Princess?”

“Uh, sure.”

The heat emanating from his chest pressed against your back. “I got a check-up the day I was assigned to you.” A sentence that visibly made you shudder. Of course, the insufferable bastard had planned this circumstance ahead. “I knew that sooner or later, I’ll have the senator’s daughter naked and needy underneath me. That I’ll have my cock buried deep within the tight walls of her sweet, sweet pussy, as she milks every last bit of my come. That I’ll watch as it drips out her hole and down her soft thighs.” He extended his arm and delicately lifted the drain plug with his fingers, allowing the water to gracefully swirl away from the bathtub. “I jerked off to the thought almost every night.”

“So, you accepted this job just to get a chance to sleep with me?” Your confidence tanked, and your body prepared itself to leave the tub. “Go to hell—”

Toji wrapped his palm around your hair three times, pulling it taut as he drew you back, pressing you firmly against his chest. “I wasn’t finished talking.”

“Let me go!”

“Know what I do when I escort you to your apartment, Princess?” He wasn’t gentle with cuffing his hands around your neck, immediately silencing you. “I wait like a fucking dog outside until you’re asleep. Then, I walk back in, clean up around your kitchen and living room because you’re too tired to do your chores, and after playing your maid, I tuck you into bed. I watch you sleep, even letting you hold onto my hand, until the moon exchanges for the sun. And I’ve been doing this for the past six fucking months.” He jerks your head to the side, his glare cold and cutting. “So, no, Princess, I didn’t accept this damn job to fuck you. This was just a side perk.”

"Oh," was all you could manage to say. The mystery behind the polished kitchen sink, the mugs and dishes neatly stowed away, the meticulously organized closet, and the unexpected peaceful nights of sleep settling within you finally unraveled. The source of your newfound stability, one that encouraged you to gradually wean off your anti-anxiety medication, was none other than your bodyguard who, unbeknownst to you, had been quietly tending to your well-being in the shadows.

Toji's gruff voice murmured near your ear, interrupting your contemplation. "You're mine, not only in body but in soul, sweet girl. No one—absolutely no-fucking-one—gets to lay a finger on you when I'm around. I won't let you out of my sight, not even for a moment."

You nod, curving your cheek and giving him a simple, soft kiss. “Will you wash me afterward?”

“Every time.”

“Will you sleep alongside me?”

“Every night.”

“And day?”

“Every day.”

“You promise?”

Toji didn’t answer, and you didn’t want to push the fantasy any further given your roles.

You’d made up your mind and rested your head back on his shoulder, a smile naturally splaying at your lips. “Don’t hold back, big guy.”

Toji kissed the side of you neck and nudged you forward so you were gripping the tub’s edge once again. His calloused, rough hand ran down your spine and settled on one-half of your ass. “So soft here.” He delivered a forceful slap, firmly grasping the flesh between his nails, stretching your skin taut, then spanking you again and again and again until your pussy was practically salivating for his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so wet already, baby.” He spat on his fingers and slipped through the slit of your soaking pussy, circling your swollen clit in fast motions. “When’s the last time anyone’s fucked this neglected pussy? Made you spread your legs and rubbed your pretty, puffy clit?” You moaned and broke into choppy gasps, pushing your ass closer to his fingers. “Your private tutor didn’t teach you a lesson on patience?”

“Toji, please.”

“Shh. I know, I know.” He mocked your desperation, gathering your hair in his fist. “Let’s see how many fingers my sweet girl can take.” Toji drove in two digits before you could blink, a maniacal chuckle escaping him as he skillfully moved them in and out, savoring the sounds of your pleasure-filled cries. “Yes, baby. Oh, yes. One more, okay?” His ring finger forced itself in, eliciting a groan from both of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rested his thick fingers inside your warmth for a minute, feeling you clench and suck him in.

“Toji— Too much—”

“Not enough, sweet girl.” He began moving, easily hitting the spot that had your toes curling inwards. “You can take it, baby. I know you can take it.” You proved him by grinding back on his palm. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my fingers. Such a good girl.” The squelching sounds crowded the bathroom, your release seeping out of you without you knowing. You cried out as he relentlessly thrusted his digits, gathering your sticky mess on his fingers and bringing it to your lips. “Taste how sweet you are.”

Your mouth covered his slick, white-coated fingers, tongue wrapping around them and suckling them deep towards the recesses of your throat. The sounds of you gagging made him grunt and sink his fingers ever further before pulling them out abruptly, strings of your saliva and release bridging the space in between.

Toji, with a sly grin, licked his fingers clean, shooting a playful wink at your flushed and flustered demeanor. “Delicious.”

Arm around your waist, Toji easily carried you back and turned you around so you were facing him, straddling his sturdy thighs. A rugged exhale escaped his lips, akin to someone who had endured a grueling day of manual labor. With muscles flexed, he extended his arms on either side, creating a protective barrier around the edge of the tub.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, drinking in your figure.

“Thank you.”

“No, baby. You don’t say “thank you” to me if I compliment you. You say “I know,” and move the fuck on.” He rubbed his hand up and down your thigh, cupping the side of your waist. You jumped when he flicked at your stone-hard nipple. “You’re sensitive there, huh?”

You mumbled, “Everywhere.”

“Speak up, sweetheart.”

“Everywhere,” you said with a volume that made him tip his head back and study you through the hooded slit of his eyes. “What you did, with your fingers, it felt good. Really good.”

“I know,” he replied, winking. “Want me to make you feel fucking fantastic, sweet girl?”

You nod, anticipating his next—

“Sit on it,” he said languidly.

“What?”

“Sit on my cock, Princess.”

He truly had a way with his words.

And you had grown accustomed to them.

Rising on your knees, you stumbled forward and aligned yourself on his ramrod erection, white beads of pre-cum leaking from the pink tip. He gripped the base of it, allowing you to sink down on his long, girthy length.

“Shit,” he breathed out, head lulling back.

“You’re—You’re too big.” The words strained out of you as you sought a comfortable position to move in. “Oh, God. Toji, I don’t think—”

He swallows your following words with his lips, cradling your flushed face in his hands. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Get yourself comfortable because, in a minute, I’ll make you forget the word ever existed.”

“Oh, God.”

“Toji, baby. The name’s Toji. Fucking say it.”

“T-Toji . . . ”

He lowered his head and grasped your left breast, fondling it like a stress ball as if his stress levels were beyond the roof. You mewled when he pinched your nipple and stretched it out, heating it between his fingers. His lips latched onto your right breast, cheeks concaving as he sucked hard.

You were a lost cause at that point, watching him nibble the swollen bud between his teeth, giving you that devilish smirk. “Fuck, baby. Your nipple tastes so sweet.” His tongue circled around it, pulling it taught in his mouth. “Maybe I should make you a mother just so I get to taste the milk that’ll leak from them.”

“You’re so dirty,” you whispered, ignoring the sudden film reel of you and Toji and your children gathered around a Christmas tree in an apartment smaller than this, in a life quieter and more private than yours. You needed clinical help.

“I know you’re thinking it.” He released your nipple with a pop and kissed your lips. “Soon, sweetheart.”

Soon?

Toji didn’t allow you to overthink anymore before grappling your ass and raising it high off his cock, until only his tip remained in you. “Hold on tight.”

He pounded you down.

You yelped and stabbed your nails into his shoulders, shouting out, “Fucking hell!” which, obviously, made him burst out laughing, all while ramming you down on his cock, burying himself to the hilt.

“Toji—ah!”

Tears streaked down your cheeks, which he quickly wiped away with his tongue, kissing each eye as if it were your mouth. He thrusted up into you in a staccato rhythm, gripping your nape to keep you steady in place. Your high-pitched whines and empty complaints fueled him to push both of your limits.

“Don’t let this get to your head,” Toji gritted out, a layer of cockiness in his voice, “but I’ve never once fucked anyone in this position.”

Well, that made you feel special, you supposed.

Actually, it made you want to try harder to please him. If you did well tonight, you could try every position in his book. So, you pressed your hands against his pecs and swirled your hips in circles, slowing his thrusts so you could take control. He was fascinated by your body, by your sudden superiority, settling his hands on your waist while you rode him insistently.

“Look at you riding my cock, baby,” Toji muses. “Look at you go. Just like that, come on. I know you can move faster.” He admired the movement of your breasts, the sweat-beads that crystallized on your skin, how your drowsy eyes rolled to the back of your head. You felt his cock twitch uncontrollably within your hot, sticky walls, felt the thick tip of it penetrate the spot that pushed you to the precise of your orgasm.

But your exhaustion caught up to you faster than your climax, causing your body to grow limp and slump against his chest. Toji embraced you, settling one hand on the back of your head and the other on your ass.

“You did well, baby,” he whispered into your hair.

“Don’t lie to me. You didn’t come.”

“Neither did you.”

You nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck, circling your shaky arm around his strong neck. “I’m close, Toji. I’m almost there. I promise.”

That’s all it took for him to drive back up into you, grunting expletives and praises in your ear—fuck, oh, fuck, ah, fuck, such a good girl, my sweet fucking girl, oh, your pussy is so tight, so pretty, made just for my cock—while holding you flush against his sweaty chest. You kissed his temple and clutched his hair, breathing in the scent of your lavender-honey shampoo and his natural musk. He continuously mumbled, “Come on, baby, come on. Come for me. Come on my cock, sweet girl.”

And you did. With a cry that hitched in your throat, with your nails dragging down his shoulder blades, with his teeth sunk into your neck, with your bodies sweat-struck and panting like wild horses.

Toji drew you back and ran a hand on your cheek, brushing away the damp strands sticking to your cheek. “Good?”

You breathed out through your open mouth, the organ inside your chest hammering to break out. “Fan . . . tastic.”

He smiled warmly, not the arrogant-cocky kind you were used to receiving, and pressed his lips to yours. No tongue, nothing. Just a simple, chaste kiss. “Time to wash up, Princess.”

Switching from the tub to the shower stall, you began to wash Toji’s hair with your lavender-honey shampoo. You anticipated his complaints, but all he did was sit silently on the seat, using a loofa to clean your body. He complimented the curves of your figure, even taking a sneaky nip at your breast, then chuckling at your reaction. Like a gentleman, he dried off your wet body, combed through your wet hair as he blow-dried it, and then it was his turn, but of course, he forced you onto his lap while you did.

“How’d you get this scar?” you asked as you two lay in your bed, naked with your limbs tangled with each other. For the past hour, all you’ve done is trace your finger over his brows, his sharp, pointed nose, and his lips. “You don’t have to tell me—”

“Family. That’s all.”

“Okay,” you whispered, snuggling your face under his jaw and wrapping your arm around his torso as far as you can.

“You’re clingy, aren’t ya’?” he teased, hooking your leg over his hip.

“Was I too out of character for you, Mr. Zenin?”

You felt his smile on your crown accompanied. “You’re not a character, Princess. You’re a real person.” His hug around your sore body tightens as if you’re about to escape any minute. “It’s overwhelming how real you are, Y/N.”

“Did you just call me by name?”

He raised a brow, voice laced with charming sarcasm. “Was I too out of character for you, Y/N?”

Your hand cupped his cheek, stroking the scar by his lip. “You’re perfect, Toji.” You kissed the wound, the middle of his lips, and the tip of his nose for a good measure.

“Stop acting cute and sleep, Princess. You’ve got a tea party in the morning.”

Groaning, you decompress in his hold. “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Night, sweet girl. Dream of me.”

“You, too.”

“Always.”

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turvi · 2 months ago

Text

Rumours

WARNING: angst, cussing

Rumours have it that Severus Snape doesn't shower. There is nothing sexy about him. All the girls in Hogwarts want to avoid him like a plague, and the marauders painting him as an obsessive creep also does not help his case. Maybe that is why Y/n feels so wrong to feel attracted to the boy.

Every time she crosses paths with Severus she can't help but feel a sensation in her chest as he looks at her, she tries to tear her eyes away from the boy, but the intense look in Severus' eyes makes it difficult for her to look somewhere else or even think about something else.

But as fate would have it she was James Potter's cousin. Ironically, she is attracted to the boy her cousin picks on the most. She can't dare to look at him while her cousin is around. What if he finds out? If a random boy approaches her James comes between them and stares the boy until he leaves Merlin knows what he will do to Severus. Y/n hates how James treats her like a kid when she is only a year younger than him

Y/n is often lost in thought trying to figure out why she feels like this about Severus. What is it about his eyes that traps her?

One day as she walks to her class she was pulled into a broom closet. Her instant panic was replaced with relief when she found the same onyx eyes that has been haunting her thoughts all day. "What do you want?"

Her eyes flutter. Even though Severus was whispering it felt like his baritone voice shook every inch of her soul. Y/n somehow musters up the courage to speak up "what do you mean?"

Severus scoffed "don't act innocent. I see how you stare at me. What is it? You want to turn me into a clown as well, turn me into a toy like your cousin does that you can torment and torture whenever you feel like?"

Her heart broke. She knows his words were not targeted to her. Who would not snap like that after facing so much? "Say something dammit"

"I love you"

"Bullshit"

Y/n cannot blame him. For some reason she cannot find a reason to hate him. She is really trying to but there is a softness in his onyx eyes that makes her determined that there is more to Severus than just being a 'greasy haired creep'.

"You don't have to believe me, but I do love you. And I also know that you love someone else."

Severus groans "miss l/n you have no idea what you are talking about"

"I am not asking you to feel the same" Y/n says but her eyes tell a different story

After a few minutes silence Severus speaks again "you cannot feel for me like this. This is merely infatuation".

As he starts to walk away Y/n spoke up finally without any fear "You do not get to tell me how I feel Severus Tobias Snape"

Severus turns around. Feeling angry yet curious at the tone she picks on him "excuse me?"

A shiver ran down her spine yet she stood her ground "you heard me loud and clear I fucking love you Severus. Whether you like it or not and I am not letting someone take that from me. Not even you".

Severus was taken aback about the way this girl talked to him. He walks back towards her, his eyes looking at her intensely "and what if I never love you back" his voice lowers

Y/n scoffed "you don't get it do you"? Severus raised an eyebrow but she continues taking a step closer to him. Severus tries to look for disgust or anger in her eyes but all he finds is passion. She continues "Severus, my curse is not that you will never love me but my curse is living a life where I am not in love with you"

Severus feels his heart throb. No this is wrong. He clenched his fist hoping it is only because of the extra cup of coffee he had this evening but one look in her eyes....and there it was again.

A/N: Part 2? Maybe? REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKED THIS

Without a word he turns around and leaves. Y/n stood there and watched him dissapear in the darkness unaware of the tears that were right now falling down his cold cheeks

Part 2

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87kelce · 10 months ago

Text

—can we please get back to loving?

summary: you knew the term exclusive was never something travis would ever use when it comes to your relationship. but you seemed to be the only one he called when he wanted someone around.

warnings: angst, smut (18+ only, no minors), arguments, slow sex, riding, pussy eating, spooning

word count: 2660

notes: title taken from the song written all over your face by louis tomlinson. not proofread so if there's any mistakes i apologise. again likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🫶

You never seemed to get a moments peace at night anymore. You knew better than to answer his calls, however the majority of the time, he was already waiting outside to be let in. But you just couldn't deny how good the sex was. He's barely doing anything and you're coming undone beneath him every time, his soft lips and wandering hands doing wonders on your body.

But then there were times he called and it wasn't for sex. He'd maybe just lost a game and he needs a pick me up, so he calls you. You talk for hours until he hears you yawning and then he thanks you for calming him down and tells you to get some rest. He also apologises for rambling on and keeping you awake for so long, but you tell him it's fine and you'd rather sit up and talk to him if it meant he was ok. You're always worried about him after a loss, he always blames himself for not doing enough and it hurts you that he feels that way.

Then you invited yourself over to his place one day, and he gladly let you in. You knew he had a game the next day so there was no chance of having sex, but at least you could help him focus on the game. He seemed to be in a good mood—he was making you laugh, you were watching TV together and you, slowly but surely, were falling for him. You were falling for the way his eyes practically disappeared when he laughed, falling for the way he always looked at you like you were the only thing in the room, falling for the way he kissed you softly and gently, falling for the way he felt so comfortable around you all the time.

But it was never exclusive, you knew he didn't want that. You were just there for a hook up and to hang out sometimes. If you didn't stop the whole ordeal, you were afraid you might get too attached and he won't reciprocate those same feelings. So you started ignoring his calls, and when he'd text you and ask what's wrong, you make up lies.

I'm too tired. I'm not feeling great. I've got friends over.

But he knew you better than that. After the third excuse he just invited himself over, making up his own excuse of I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And you knew better than to invite him in. But now he's on your couch, flicking through the channels on your TV, completely making himself at home.

"Why didn't you want to be exclusive with me?"

"Hm?"

Travis turned to face you, eyebrows raised. He clearly hadn't heard you, too focused on the TV and you just sighed.

"Why didn't you want to be exclusive with me?"

"Let's not discuss that.. I don't want to start a fight."

"Was I the only girl you were seeing?"

"Don't.."

"I want you to be honest with me."

He sighed, switching off the TV and getting up, walking to the kitchen. He opened your fridge and grabbed a water bottle, taking a sip before coming back to the couch. But he didn't say anything, just sat there in silence before he took his phone out and started scrolling through it.

"Travis.."

"I'm just.. I don't know."

"Is it me? Is it something I've done?"

"No."

You just sighed, getting up and going to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you and flopping onto your bed, crying into your pillow. He's like a completely different person now, compared to the person he was last week, laughing with you on the phone and being so sweet and kind to you. You're just waiting and hoping he knocks on your door, apologises and sweeps you off your feet again, like a knight in shining armour. But you're pretty sure he couldn't care less, and honestly, you're not even sure why he invited himself over in the first place. If he was worried about you, he could've called. You don't know why he was so adamant about being here with you, but not actually being with you.

After one of his games, he gave you an old jersey and you still kept it under your pillow, claiming it helped you sleep better. You reached under and grabbed it, bunching it up and cuddling it. Maybe if you hadn't tried to push him away, he might still be the nice Travis you knew two weeks ago. You kept blaming yourself, putting yourself at fault for everything between you and him, until a knock at your door startled you. You wiped your eyes, getting up and opening it.

"You okay? I was gonna check on you when you slammed the door but.. thought I'd give you some space."

"I'm fine, you can go home if you want."

"That movie you like is on, wanna watch it?"

"Just.. go home."

"I can't go home, not when you're like this."

"I said I'm fine."

"You're not."

He's being pushy but he needs to be, he needs to get you to admit that you're not okay. He knows you better than yourself sometimes and you just roll your eyes, pushing past him to sit on the couch, watching the movie starting. He threw his head back and sighed, but just as he tilted his head back and went to turn and follow you, he noticed the jersey. He remembers giving it to you, smiling when you immediately put it on and twirled round in it. Truthfully, although he won't admit it, that was the first moment he fell in love with you.

He walks into your room, grabbing the jersey before going back to sit with you on the couch. He just throws it down on the middle section of the couch, before sitting down and turning to look at you.

"You keep it on your bed?"

"Under my pillow.."

He just smiled, still watching you until you smiled back at him. He was almost magnetic, pulling you right back into him whenever he could. You let him in so easily and you know you shouldn't.

But then he's pulling you onto his lap, his mouth on your neck, lips soft against your skin. Your hands move up to the back of his neck, fingers scratching gently at the nape of his neck.

"Trav.."

"Shh.. feels good right?"

You just nodded, eyes closing shut.

"Then let it happen.."

As you pulled back slightly, his head tilted, lips moving to the other side of your neck. You felt like you were spinning, feeling all dizzy when he kissed you, ultimately making you forget you were mad at him in the first place. Then you remember he has practice again tomorrow, and it's important.

"We can't do this.. not tonight."

He ignores you at first, kissing along your collarbone and you have to push yourself away from him so he looks up at you.

"Listen to me.. we can't do this.."

"You still mad at me?"

"No, but you have practice again tomorrow."

He just sighs, hands fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. It then hits you that he probably came here just to have sex, his excuse of making sure you were okay was just a lie. You push off him completely, sliding to sit next to him on the couch. But one of his hands is still on your waist, thumb circling gently on your skin.

"I need you to be genuinely honest with me, okay?"

"Okay.."

"Did you come over here for just a hookup?"

"No. You just.. kept avoiding me and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

You stood up from the couch, starting to pace around the room. Sure, he's cared about you but you just can't seem to figure out why he came over to make sure you were alright. He always just calls you, talking your ear off for hours on end and making you laugh to forget about why you were ever upset in the first place.

"I can't keep just having sex. But you don't want to be exclusive with me."

"You want the truth?"

"Please."

"I think you're so fucking cool. I get so happy when you answer my calls, those conversations we have are the one thing I look forward to on my off days. I push all these feelings down because I'm fucking terrified, my work is hectic and I.. I just don't want you to get overwhelmed by it all."

He had sat up now, head facing the ground after he spoke. You slowly sat down, one of your hands reaching for his.

"I remember giving you that jersey.. the way you got all giddy and excited when you put it on. I.."

You squeezed his hand gently and he turned his head to look at you. Then he sat back and once again, pulled you into his lap.

"Ever since then.. I can't stop thinking about you. It's just.. the travelling for away games, you wouldn't be with me for a few days and—"

"Trav.."

He looked into your eyes, feeling your hands cup his cheeks.

"I can handle a few days without you every so often.."

"Are you sure?"

You just smiled, kissing his forehead.

"I'm sure."

You let go of his face as he pulled you in against him, his forehead resting against the side of your neck. Everything felt so heavy with him before, but you didn't know that it was all on him. You had doubts that if you told him how you felt, that he wouldn't reciprocate those same feelings. There was no way you could've predicted him actually being in love with you. Especially with the sex, but now, as he moved his head back and kissed you softly on your neck, he could be sweet and gentle with you.

He moved his hands to your waist, shuffling forward on the couch before standing up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Walking you to the bedroom, you dropped your head to his shoulder, tilting your head to kiss the side of his neck. You unwrapped your legs from his waist when you felt the bed dip beneath you as he lay you down. One of his hands fumbled with your shorts as the other bunched your shirt up, his fingers brushing over your nipple, making you gasp slightly.

His head was resting against your stomach, lips leaving lingering kisses all over your skin, and you couldn't help but watch him, eyes closed and savouring every moment with you. He had managed to wiggle your shorts and underwear off, and now his mouth was kissing the inside of your thighs. You were still looking down at him when he flashed his eyes up at you, his mouth hovering over your core. He moved your left leg over his shoulder, while he pushed at the back of your thigh on your right leg, keeping it open. The hand that wasn't holding your leg open, wrapped around your other leg, trying to keep you in place while he buried his head between your legs. He could feel you squirming underneath him and almost anticipated your movements, his head moving in time with you.

You threw your head back when he delved his tongue inside, mouth still attached to your folds. Again, he flashed his eyes up at you, grinning when he saw you slightly arch your back up off the sheets. He licked through your folds a couple more times, before you reached one hand down, pushing against his forehead.

"Trav.. please.. too much.."

But he didn't stop, he just pushed his tongue deeper, licking faster, your whines and moans only egging him on further. But just as he knew you were close, he pulled away, reaching down and wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt. He then shrugged your leg off his shoulder and stood up in between your legs.

"You close?"

"Mmph.. mmhm.."

You slowly opened your eyes, watching him walk round the bed, before sitting down and patting his thighs. You slowly turned over, crawling up the bed and swinging your leg over his thighs. When his hands found your waist, he smiled up at you, brushing your hair out your face.

"There's my girl.."

You just blushed, lowering yourself down and hiding your face in his neck.

"Does my girl wanna come?"

"Please?"

He reached behind you and pulled at his shorts, dragging them off. He returned his focus to you, realising still how sensitive you already were and started to move his hands up and down your sides, squeezing gently and almost trying to massage you. While his hands were occupied, you lifted yourself onto your knees slightly, reaching down between both your bodies and adjusting yourself onto him, sinking down and sighing into his shoulder when he was fully inside.

"Take it easy, baby.. nice and slow."

You were feeling so overwhelmed that you couldn't move much, rather just grinding against him. His hands on your waist made you move, lifting you off him slightly before pushing you back down. His lips were kissing your neck, softly and sweetly, and you could feel him smiling against your skin.

Since he had basically eaten you out to almost orgasm earlier, it didn't take long before you let go against him, mumbling out that you were close.

"Let go.. I got you.."

You sighed out in relief, legs slightly trembling around him as he shh'd and cooed at you. He gave you a few languid thrusts himself to ride you through it and over it, before you felt him grunt in your ear. He was close and although you were still sensitive and still coming down from your own high, you wanted to help him get to his. Grinding your hips down onto him, he threw his head back against the pillow, eyes screwed shut and his mouth open.

"Unless you want me to come inside you, you better get off my dick.."

You pulled off him and heard him sigh against your neck, dropping his head back to your shoulder. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a tissue, cleaning himself up. You then slid off him, laying down on the bed, feeling him drag his shorts back on before laying down behind you, arm wrapping around your waist.

"I hate when we fight.."

"I know, baby.. but if we hadn't had that fight, I wouldn't have realised what a dick I was being and wouldn't have told you how I feel about you. I could've just left when you told me to leave.."

"I'm glad you didn't.."

He just smiled and kissed your shoulder, before nuzzling his forehead against it.

"Now.. you gotta sleep, you have practice tomorrow.. and I don't think Reid will let you turn up late.. again.."

He just laughed, kissing your shoulder again before resting his head into the pillow. You felt his hand play with the hem of your t-shirt for a while before he stopped and you knew he'd drifted off to sleep. You stayed awake for a while after that, unable to think about anything except Travis. Eventually your eyes fluttered closed and you drifted off to sleep, warmed by his arm around your stomach.

#travis kelce #travis kelce fluff #travis kelce smut #travis kelce angst #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce x y/n #travis kelce x you #travis kelce fic #kansas city chiefs #kc chiefs #nfl #nfl fan fic

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spockandawe · 2 months ago

Text

Oh, this is interesting. To me. I'm not sure it's interesting to anyone else! But I'm on my computer for once and FULL of words again, and I'm delighted to talk to myself given half an excuse.

So, I made a post about Long Live Evil! Because I cracked open the book and was absolutely taken aback by how transparently it seemed to be an SVSSS reskin. I wrote up a goodreads thing (it's whatever, I'm going to rehash the main points here too), because I was also full of words and beans after finishing the book yesterday, and after polling online friends, I was surprised to see that the comparison didn't seem to have organically occurred to anyone else, when it was so naked to me. I know there’s a TON of transmigration and isekai stories out in the universe, and pointing at one single book was a big claim, so I just had to assemble all my thoughts! I find this so interesting! And I reblogged my initial one-off post with a little more elaboration about some of the things that jumped out at me, then got on with live and went back to chipping at ORV and GHG, and shotgunned MADK this afternoon.

This is a subtle nod and a wink to my passionate love for these kind of... morally grey main characters! Calling them villains might be a bit much, I don't think there are many true villain protagonists out there (LLE included), and even Devil Venerable has a demonic cultivator who's doing demonic shit and killing loads of people... but with the ultimate balance of the heavens and earth as his priority. This kind of story is my jam. I was recced this book on the basis of transmigration and sketchy protagonists being my thing. I can't rightfully call SVSSS the best cnovel I've ever read, but it is my favorite. And I've probably reread it more times than any other cnovel.

So, that SRB post, huh? I put Long Live Evil behind me, and honestly even following up on the sequel is mmmmmdoubtful, but THIS snagged my attention again. First, the comparisons she's calling out as incorrect are wild to me. Draco and Harry? What? Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian?? (I had to ponder that one for a hot minute, but I bet you anything it's about 'the golden cobra' and 'the last hope' and that's just silly, they're not wangxian, they're MOSHANG)

I was recced LLE in one friend group, but I had an anti-rec from my book club friend group. My book club friend hadn't been at all impressed by it! And she's cool, and I talk up svsss and mxtx to that crowd every so often, without really expecting them to read it. I talk about transmigration as a plot device that I love, and the things that can be done with it! But with that connection in mind between the books, as I started LLE, I was jokingly defending the honor of SVSSS to this crowd, so I admit I was primed to recognize similarities.

I really truly did not make it far in the book before locking it down. I was getting vibes basically from the moment Rae started gushing about her problematic fictional fave, I referenced 95% certainty shortly after she makes the jump to the fictional universe, the golden cobra was 98%, Lia Mingyan's, I mean Liu Mingyan's lack of sex scenes was 99%, and the first pov section for Marius-jun was where I gave up and called it as a sure thing.

It'll be very funny if I'm wrong! I don't think I'm wrong.

Plenty of spoilers to follow, because I identified this inspiration early, I guessed basically every plot twist early, I don't have the patience to dance around spoilers while explaining how it all lines up.

Now, I said this elsewhere, but it bears repeating: I don't think this is plagiarism. I think it's tasteless to accuse an author of stealing and repurposing characters to her face. But I think it's also tasteless to repurpose characters as nakedly as happened here! Again? If I'm wrong? That's why I'm talking to myself on my blog and not messaging her directly (?????? who even does that). What are the stakes for me being wrong here? I look like a clown online? That would be terrible, I've never done that before! It's not a crime to write in ways I find distasteful. It's not a crime to write a book I think is not good, even apart from the use of fictional influences. But I like talking about my feelings online, and I can't be stopped!

But there's two aspects of this that make me somewhat uncomfortable in a less fun way. Both are contingent on the big IF. If this is inspired by svsss, I think it's not a classy move to take a Chinese story in a Chinese setting, inspired by the modern Chinese literary scene and classical Chinese fantasy, and just dump the characters into a generic western setting. Fanfic? Have fun and try to be respectful. Profic, making money off it? Ehhhhh. The question of how much change is necessary is a tricky one! It's not one I'm equipped to answer, this is not my wheelhouse or my place to speak. But it doesn't make me feel good!

However, here's where I have more personal stake:

Again, if this is inspired by svsss. It really doesn't feel great to see a queer story (a smash hit in more than one country!) stripped down for parts and made into a heterosexual story. It's not all heterosexual, we get side lesbians, we get men with homoerotic tension. But the central ship is now a guy and a girl. And it... stings a little extra, because in the story of svsss, the idea of assumptions about default (hetero)sexuality are such a central theme. A queer man has written a trashy, oversexed stallion novel where the hottest guy in the universe collects the hottest women like pokemon, and it sells so much better than the more personal stories he tried to write. He has to write this pandering trash to make money to live, he can't live on the more authentic stories he tried to tell before. The protagonist is the projection of his own insecurities and self-hate, and the protagonist's right hand man is his projection of his own ideal man. Another man transmigrates into the book, assuming that he himself is straight, assuming the protagonist is straight, and the force of their love changes the course of the entire narrative. In retrospect, it's upsetting to see those load-bearing themes casually carved out of the story and the hollowed-out remains used like this.

Anyways, in their place, now we've got running gags about how the heroine's tits are BIGHUGE now and she can't keep her balance because her GIANT HONKERS keep tipping her over.

I'm a little more bothered than I was yesterday! On the other hand, since I saw SRB's post, I've been chewing on that central ship. Full disclosure, it was one of my favorite aspects of the novel! My other favorite aspect is the dynamic between the golden cobra and the last hope (the moshang, which I think some people misdiagnosed as wangxian).

I know that the central ship here is the thing that's LEAST comparable to svsss, and the biggest roadblock in the way of my theory. On the other hand, I think it was the thing that HAD to change if this story was going to repurpose svsss without getting called out for being a classic 'bro can i copy your homework' adventure.

For this section, let's assume that I'm right and let's roleplay an author trying to figure out how to change Bingqiu into something not-obviously-Bingqiu. How do we need to differentiate Rae and Key from Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe.

First, we eliminate the martial sect thing. Easy peasy! That's a wuxia concept, and this book goes full nondescript western fantasy. She's not his teacher, he's not her student. And if she's not his teacher and he's not her student, why does this woman have power over this man, to build up the resentment that inspires him to turn the tables on her later? Well, in nondescript western fantasy, she's a noblewoman of some kind, and he's a servant of some kind. Noble lady treats servant like garbage, servant resents her. Doing great.

And to loop back around to the beginning of this a little, I think it really is key to this reskinning that Rae is a SHE. If the central ship remained queer, it would be so, so hard to pull away from the most identifiable thematic aspects of svsss. And pieces of what remain are... kind of bizarre for a normie heterosexual ship where our protagonist is aware that she's transmigrated into an impossibly desirable sexpot character!

Shen Qingqiu never considers that Luo Binghe might be interested in him because Luo Binghe is about to have a HAREM of beautiful women, he's the most heterosexual man of all time, and Shen Qingqiu is straight too! Besides, Shen Qingqiu is his teacher! He half-raised Luo Binghe! Even if Luo Binghe was bent, he wouldn't be interested in an old man like Shen Qingqiu!

Rae is 20, occupying a 24-year-old body. Her character's sexiness is relentlessly remarked upon from start to finish. Key is 18. Why is Rae so sure that he looks up to her as... a mentor, as an older woman? He almost goes down on her! He makes out with her! And she's like 'ah yes, it means nothing. lol. so funny how these things happen.' Bruh, at least after Luo Binghe kissed Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu finally got hit with the clue stick. Binghe didn't try to blow him only for Shen Qingqiu to keep noodling on about how Binghe definitely isn't into him in any sense, even the most oblivious man in the universe managed to catch on.

Why doesn’t Rae think there’s any chance of genuine attraction here? Yeah, I get that she's coming back from terminal cancer. She's doing great. She knows that the fictional character she occupies is one of the most desirable ladies in the land. He’s a teenager. He’s not expressing disinterest. A lack of horny for sexy lady ought to be more surprising for her. But I guess she’s slightly older than him and that small age gap has been magnified by the transmigration, so she conceptualizes herself only as his teacher, I mean mentor.

I’m not even mad at this dynamic. I love their chemistry, the ‘boss’ thing is cute, but lordt, I have to wonder if it’s meant to substitute for ‘shizun.’ But you know where this comparison really falls apart? Key isn’t really THAT much Luo Binghe.

At least, he isn’t in terms of personality. I mean, we’ve got the mysterious magical heritage, the healing factor, the unbeatable fighting skills, being beaten repeatedly because of the protagonist (tbh it’s sexier when she’s responsible, rather than just being a bystander), being yeeted into the abyss, I mean the ravine, to rise again and assume power as the merciless ruler of all the land. Oh, and he comes back from the dead still bearing the scar that represents her betrayal. In the original novel, he turned on her the moment he got his opening and was responsible for coming up with her gruesome torment.

(Also, Shen Qingqiu being terminally ill isn’t canon, but it’s very popular fanon, and it’s hard to ignore that with how hard the narrative lingers over Rae’s terminal illness as her gateway into this fictional world)

But! But the things that are different! Luo Binghe is a smart and sweet teenager, who had a rough start on the streets and has a tragically deceased single adoptive parent, but that’s their only backstory parallel, he doesn’t blacken until he’s thrown into the abyss. Not like Key, Key is a murder-happy sociopath, a former street kid who fought the odds and made good, and who’s a lot sharper and cleverer than the upper classes think someone like him should be. He utterly destroyed a righteous cultivator clan, I mean glassblowing guild, for the sake of revenge. Once our heroine scores a number of trust points with him, we unlock secret backstory about how as a small child, he experienced deeply formative hand trauma.

He’s Xue Yang.

It took me a moment to process the wangxian allegations SRB mentions in her post, because I was trying to figure out how someone would be aware of wangxian, and read that backstory, and somehow miss it. But it’s fine, I’m pretty sure they were actually talking about the golden cobra and the last hope! So LET’S TALK MOSHANG.

It was so funny. I was liveblogging the book to friends, because honestly, I do not jive with the buffy-esque joss whedon relentless quip-quip-quip writing style. I was struggling to stay engaged when the narrative never took a moment to breathe. And I perked up at the introduction of this new character! He seemed kind of fun, kind of meta, Key came over to share Secret Info with him, and I messaged the friend who recced this to me (also an svsss appreciator) ‘lol, what if he’s shang qinghua. just straight from svsss shang qinghua.'

Reader, a second transmigrator has hit the narrative.

Now, in some ways, he’s a disappointment to me. He’s not nearly as interesting as Shang Qinghua. Adding the author to their own narrative is way more fascinating to me than just dropping a rando into the story. But I’ll take what I can get, I think multiple transmigrators are almost always a fun decision. And for the queer reasons I mentioned above, I think Shang Qinghua ties into the themes of his novel a lot more strongly than Eric does here. I don’t want to call him ‘the golden cobra’ every time, I get more self-conscious every time I write it. And honestly, the reveal of Eric’s full Eric Whatever name feels a little awkward and… pointed compared to the sheer opacity of Shang Qinghua’s existence. Never mind what his name was in the real world, we don’t even know his name before he was a Peak Lord. I’m not upset we got a name or anything, it would make certain fannish activities a lot easier if Shang Qinghua had additional canon names, but it was an interesting detail in light of how parallel the characters are.

Okay! He’s not the author! He’s still a super-fan. He transmigrated into the book years before the LLE main character, and has settled in pretty well. According to canon as Rae knows it, he’s fated to be killed by his own favorite character. He’s fast-thinking and fast-talking, and scattered and all over the place, but dangerous when cornered and more competent than he looks. He deals in information and manages a network of spies. He’s a creative! He and the main character banter relentlessly and get along like a house on fire. He and the king’s trusted ice-cold right hand man share a weird codependent dynamic that’s part hostile, part homoerotic.

Marius has complicated feelings about not-shang-qinghua. Eric is a coward, he’d rather talk fast and lie than stand up for anything, he cowers and cringes and isn’t honorable. He and Mobei-jun also shared a deeply formative experience in their youth, where as a teenager in distress, Eric/Shang Qinghua appeared before them and announced their devotion. In Shang Qinghua’s case, it was offering to serve him (and saving him from huan hua injuries), and in Eric’s case, it was declaring him to be his favorite character (and saving him from sad teenaged isolation), but man. And in the end, after a long, fraught relationship, Marius/Mobei-jun is furious and strangely distraught when Eric/Shang Qinghua abandons him.

Guys, it’s not wangxian.

I think it hits less hard when Marius’s themes of family violence aren’t allowed to sit directly in the narrative, and when it seems like some vague berserker rage thing rather than Linguang-jun just bluntly wanting to murder him for practical reasons, but hey! This was still, genuinely, one of my favorite parts of the story. I wanted more more more of them, I would read this moshang au any day.

After that, the parallels get a little more nebulous! The comparisons between the abyss and the ravine are pretty obvious. I’m not sure why we decided to build our city and palace right on top of the pit of people-eating ghouls rather than literally anywhere else, but it means we don’t need to take a special field trip to Jue Di Gorge, which means we can do the bait and switch where it turns out Key was a heavenly demon all along. The temperamental King Octavian, the young master of the palace, one might even say the xiao gongzhu if they were feeling spicy, jealously tries to romantically monopolize half our main ship and has the other half flogged with a magic whip.

I already mentioned that Rae brings up that Liu Mingyan — wait, I said I’d change some answers so it wasn’t obvious I copied — Lia doesn’t get a sex scene in the books even though loads of other people did, just like Shen Qingqiu praises Liu Mingyan for her untouchable image in such an oversexed, gratuitous book. I don’t think it would be right to call Liu Mingyan a white lotus heroine in either SVSSS or PIDW, but her archetype is in that wheelhouse, and Lia is just a white lotus rival played straight (and played deliberately, another touch I liked). We don’t have made up animals like black moon rhinoceros pythons in LLE, but we do have leucrotas, which are like a lion and a hyena and serve no narrative purpose.

Oh, you know what else I forgot to mention? Rae gives Key one of her red ruby earrings, and he refuses to sell it, and stubbornly holds onto it until the bitter end. Is this Xue Yang holding onto the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen gave him, or is it Hua Cheng determinedly keeping Xie Lian’s red coral earring with him even through his own death? Por que no los dos?

There are things that are original in here. I know that this presentation undersells how much of the book is original. The trouble is, almost everything I thought was good is something that either was lifted from another person’s creative endeavors, or is being tainted by association with all the other naked lifts. Some of the noble ladies have an archery contest! That’s pretty new and fresh, huh? We didn’t have any archery contests in SVSSS!

Yeah, but we sure did in MDZS. And MDZS is already in play, because we’ve already got one character who’s just copy and paste Xue Yang.

There’s a thermocline of trust in this book that fell off for me sharply, and it turned a lot of this into a guessing game of ‘wait NOW what the refrance? owo'

I’m probably on a hair trigger by now, but I’ve also probably missed some things. And I’m sure this is a synthesis of multiple influences, because most stories are. But this feels like cooking and trying to season your dish with a little salt and then the container lid just falls off.

Emer isn’t a clear parallel to an existing character! Love that for her! Love a lady with an axe, especially if she gets a nice girlfriend! On the other hand, in terms of backstory? Wow, she’s been raised with our protagonist since early childhood, as not-quite-foster-siblings, but she was always the clear unfavorite and harbors a lot of resentment over that. Oh, and once Rae entered the story, Rae started trying to speedrun an enemies to 'hello hiiii we should bestiessss' arc with her. I think she had to have an axe, because a whip or a sword would make the Jiang Cheng and/or Liu Qingge vibes a little uncomfortably strong. She doesn’t follow their character arcs! But the disappointing thing is that it felt like she was just there to facilitate pasting the frankenstein patchwork of the narrative together rather than having an arc of her own.

(why did Marius stop to give her a sword lesson? Why did she immediately sneak onto the roof to eavesdrop on the king?? It’s hard to give her credit for being an original character when none of her original actions make sense in the greater universe)

Oh, I almost forgot, we’ve even got magic plot macguffin plants. While Binghe is in the abyss, Shen Qingqiu needs to get the Sun And Moon Dew Flower Seed so he can build an escape hatch for himself before Binghe wrecks his shit. Rae, on the other hand, needs to secure the Flower of Life and Death by an arbitrary deadline as an escape hatch so she can go back to her original life rather than being trapped here forever. Very different! There’s even little side tangents about how these plants can be so beneficial to others, Zhuzhi-lang is desperately trying to secure a seed to build a new body for Tianlang-jun (which Shen Qingqiu enables him to do, despite not knowing what he wants it for), and Rae thinks about how the flower could “save someone on the very doorstep of death,” and gives it away for that exact purpose. So different!

I need to cut myself off, otherwise I’ll keep going. Truly, there is original content in here. It was just all the stuff I didn’t like. The character quipping was. God. There sure was a lot of it! By sheer volume, that’s a lot of original content. Some of the extended cast was interesting, I enjoyed the Horrors and their brothers, I liked Valencia. Now, I didn’t like how basically every girl ADULT WOMAN in this cast was in shitty teen mean girl mode. I didn’t like how immature every character interaction period was. I lost track of how many times Rae was going around in sexy clothes and rando servants were like “HARLOT,” out loud about a favored noblewoman, you know, as you do. Especially when her bodyguard is pulling against his choke chain just waiting for an excuse to do a murder. I don’t need Rae to be the picture of flawless maturity. But nobody is mature, full stop, not even the set dressing servants.

For a less loaded example, the cumplane friendship dynamic is here, practically intact. Shen Qingqiu can't snipe about authorial choices, because Eric isn't the author, so instead Rae and Eric squabble about favorite scenes and favorite ships and such. But it isn't nearly as charming when we don't see these two characters dropping their dignified Peak Lord cultivator roleplay to talk shit with each other. Rae and Eric never have a filter once in this book. They are always Like This, it isn't a secret face that gets unlocked when they're bouncing off each other, they are never circumspect, never have a filter, never have any idea they shouldn't be speaking their full thoughts at full volume 24/7. Even after this starts to have material consequences when they're inevitably overheard! It's an immersion-breaking level of immaturity, which is terribly frustrating when the original dynamic that I loved is only changed in such minor ways.

And another thing that actually tastes way more sour than it did on first reading – Valencia is probably the least mean girl of all the women in the cast. She’s delightful. Too bad that in every scene but her last one, Rae, who repeatedly references her own experiences having her body and appearance ravaged by cancer, cannot for love or money stop talking about how uggo Valencia is.

I know this is an adult novel. The characters are, by age, adults. There’s almost an oral scene. God, I wish we’d gotten the oral scene. But by every other metric, the characters are all high schoolers and I’m an exhausted adult muttering to myself ‘they’ll grow out of it, please GOD let them grow out of it.’

Again, none of this is a crime! Nobody forced me to finish the book! And I did enjoy the book. Parts of it! But that very distinct partial enjoyment experience almost forced me to dissect my own emotional response. And truly, other than a few flashes like Valencia, almost everything I enjoyed about the book was something I could trace directly back to one author, and mostly to one book by that one author. I… enjoyed half of the book. And if I can track most of that half back to mxtx and svsss, I really think that says something about how much wasn’t done to make the inspiration behind this book the author’s own.

It's disappointing! I read this book because I like svsss, I read it because I want more books like svsss, I read it because I trawl the novelupdates tags looking for more books that will hit me the way svsss did. It doesn’t taste good to be served reheated svsss with expired buffy sauce drizzled on top. It tastes even less good once I have a minute to think about what turning an m/m meditation on sexuality and self-image and assumptions about others into a m/f snooze does to the themes I loved so much. It stings to see an author rehash a book that was/is so important to me, and see what they kept and what they threw out, and be like ‘oh, so… these were the elements that mattered to you?’

Again, I hate to be redundant with this, but. I think calling this book plagiarism would be overdoing it. I think it’s tasteless. I don’t think being tasteless is a crime. It remains wild to me that she’s getting messages calling out her supposed inspiration, even if I’m simultaneously criticizing the judgment of the people making those specific comparisons. And I ABSOLUTELY understand why she’s reluctant to own up to the specific inspirations behind this book, because good lord. If it was me, I’d be professionally embarrassed too.

It’s not my job to be the book quality police, but I think someone as experienced as this should be able to do a better job of synthesizing inspirations into something original. I dropped ‘can’t afford to offend my scheming disciple’ earlier this year, because that narrative couldn’t shake the taste of stale svsss fanfic, and it was much more subtle than this is. Once again, if I’m wrong, this post will be retroactively VERY funny and I’ll be all ears to see what her inspirations actually were. I don’t think I’m wrong.

#long live evil #long post #svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #imagine if i put all these words into more productive endeavors! crazy!

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thisismeracing · 1 year ago

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King of my heart | extras | Mick defending Yn from a mean journalist

Summary: Mick has media duties with Mercedes this week and one of the tasks happened to be a podcast interview with a new F1 show. They also happened to mention Yn, but Mick did not like the way they talked about her, and he wasn't about to let someone downplay her during a live interview, not in front of him.

Word count: 1.4k (got carried away again, sorry lol)

A/n: @flowerchild-96 sent me this idea, bringing up a scenario about Mick defending Yn. I did some adaptations, and voila, here you go, yet another Komh extra. I hope you guys like it, even if it's a bit different from the original idea. And thank you, Flower, for requesting this piece <3

A/n2: This is set when Mick and Yn are already together.

A/n3: This can be read as a stand-alone, but it's better when you've read the series.

Warnings: curse words; angry!mick; typos - not proofread.

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Mick is tired.

He’s been doing Sim work every spare time he got, and some days it went as far as him staying until after midnight in the factory. Add this to the fact that he hasn’t been seeing Yn that much, she’s been busy with work as well, and most of the time they’re getting are during the weekends when all eyes are on them.

No-Yn and no sleep have proven to be a very stressful combination, so maybe that’s the reason why he found himself trying as hard as possible not to be rude or dry on his answers. It was work, it doesn’t matter if he had been asked the same question thousands of times, just the other day, or the minute prior, he had to answer it as if it was brand new, and he had to be polite, that last part was on his nature.

However, defending those he loves is also in his nature, and Mick's ears perk up when one of the guys, Jack, mentions Yn.

He doesn’t know how the guy managed to bring her up when the topic was cars and the last performance Mercedes had, and Mick tries his best to keep his expression neutral, first because he doesn’t want to be rude, and second, because it’s a live podcast. The cameras are on him, just like the big microphone is in front of his face, half of the fans are probably watching the live, and the other half that is not will surely watch it soon. They will analyze every move he makes, and the last thing Mick wants is to bring more attention to his family and friends.

“We saw recently that Lewis’ sister is attending races as well,” that itself was already problematic considering they had just talked with the Merc media manager and she listed the subjects that could not be brought up, Yn was there, of course. She didn’t want that kind of attention, and everyone always did their best to keep her safe and respect her wishes. It was even more infuriating when Jack kept going, “Do you think she distracts the crew by being in the garage? Would you say she’s a liability to Lewis or more like a lucky charm?”

Oh, and didn’t Mick finally understand the saying “he was so angry, he saw red”, because he quite literally had to close his eyes after the whole question was sputtered.

How the fuck did that guy came up with such a shitty thing to say?

Mick saw how the second host was embarrassed for his mate, he saw the way the Mercedes PR manager eyed him a bit taken aback, he saw and heard everything, yet his mind did not think twice before putting his body to action. His brows furrowed, the blank expression he had quickly turned into one of unlucky surprise and anger.

“Excuse me?” Mick eyed the mand up and down before letting out a humorless chuckle. “Is this supposed to be a bad joke or?”

“I was just thinking, because Lewis’s sister is-”

Mick interrupted before Jack could go any further and make him angrier, “I think the first problem with your question is that you keep referring to Yn as “Lewis’ sister” when she has a name and had a career before their relationship as siblings were outed in the media. It is stupidity to resume her as Lewis’ sister and only that. Yn is a talented and famous business woman, she has her own brand, and she made her connections without needing to use her surname,” he’s so angry he could go on all day, he sees the way the Mercedes PR seems to struggle on what to think about his words, sees the way Jack starts to get red, and franquily Mick just wanted to tell that guy to fuck off and leave that interview, but he had to make his point clear, and he would defend Yn. To hell with media and the outcome of it all. So mick went on, “Yn was Yn before Lewis. It’s different with me because I came after my father, we were tied since forever, and everyone knew it, but Yn got famous without anyone knowing she had Hamilton bloog, she used her mother’s name, she kept herself from publicly interacitng with her brother and celebrating all his wins, she sacrificed a lot, so don’t come to me and talk about her erasing all her work and effort to get where she is now. Put some respect on her name.”

“You seem a bit stressed about the way I voiced it, I’m sorry.”

“Of course. We’re talking about my friend, and even if she wasn’t a friend, it’s insensitive to talk about someone like this in a live broadcast when that someone did nothing wrong and it’s not even here to defend herself.”

Jack coughed a bit embarrassed, and the second host could only smile awkwardly, “We’re really sorry, Mick. Jack just happens to be a huge Lewis fan so it’s always ‘Lewis this and Lewis that’ he ends up forgetting everyone else,” he gulped and tried to downplay it.

Mick directed his narrowed eyes to his water bottle, opened it and took a swing before nodding briefly. He was done with that interview, and he knew everyone else were too. It only took three more questions, not so rude as the last one – thankfully, for the podcast episode to be finished. He kept his cool, but Mick knew his expression was probably still uninterested and annoyed, his body language sure showed how his guard was up, arms crossed on top of the table, head tilted as if waiting for Jack to try and mess with his girl again, as if silently daring them to even mention Yn’s name.

When it was over, Mick had a brief talk with the Merc PR who told him that she personally loved how he stood up for Yn, and reassured him that they would work a plan so that the podcast interview didn’t spill more on Yn or him.

The drive to the hotel was quick, however, his head was pounding, his body tense, it was as if his tiredness had doubled the size after the events. Immediately upon getting inside the elevator he decided to go to Yn’s room instead of his, Mick did not take the time to think that maybe she was sleeping, or busy, at least not until he buzzed her room. Just as he was aabout to pretend he never set a foot on her floor, Yn opened the door.

“Hey, mouse,” she breathed, a small smile in the corner of her plush lips.

Mick felt his body melt, half of its tension dissipating with just one look at her angelical face. Yn was wearing one of his shirts, part of her curls messily tied on top of her head.

“Hey,” he faltered, still not sure if it was the best idea to ring her bell without a warning.

“Are you gonna keep staring at me?” Yn bantered, reaching for his hand and bringing him inside before closing her door.

The hotel room smelled like her. Her perfume, her lotion, her hair products. Mick closed his eyes, took another deep breath trying to see if the her scent would caml him a bit more.

“I’m sorry-”

“It feels nice to be your friend-”

They said at the same time and it was a only a beat before both were laughing. Yn’s word were clearly a joke about how he said she was his friend. She had watched everything, and she didn’t seem mad about his outburst. Mick felt partly responsible for how the media was digging up her life after they were seem together, and he knew this interview would probably give them more amno to keep going about “mickyn”, he was relieved Yn seemed to pay no mind to it at the moment.

“I think I talked too much out there, I’m sorry, babe,” Mick started, but Yn shook her head. She got on her tip toes, hands going around Mick’s neck, his face now only inches from hers.

“Thank you for standing up for me,” she whispered, and he gripped her waist bringing her body close and hugging her, his head on the crook of her neck, her hands playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “It’s great to be friends with you, just please make sure I’m the only one who can do this,” Yn joked when Mick faced her, and smashed their lips together in a tender, but also giddy kiss.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mellowpizzapuppy @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @Dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @crimeshowjunkie @iloveyou3000morgan @fdl305 @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo

#mick schumacher #ms47 #mick schumacher imagine #f1 imagines #mick schumacher x reader #komh extras #blurbs #mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x black!reader #f1 imagine #black!reader #requested #komh

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leezlelatch · 10 months ago

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There seems to be some discourse lately about content, the kind of content, and the community as a whole. Now, the last thing I want to do is stir up anything, but I had some thoughts that I'd like to type out, and I appreciate whomever decides to read it.

The purpose of this band is to make us happy. You've heard it time and time again, as long as we go home at the end of that show feeling just a little better, then TF is satisfied. And it seems like lately that happiness is hard to achieve here, on twitter, or wherever else one is active.

On Headcanon

Were you sitting at work today? Home? And suddenly that thought popped into your head, a little scene playing out about Copia, or Terzo, or Secondo, or Primo. A thought that filled you with excitement, butterflies dancing in your belly, which had you smiling because yes, in the world that makes you happy, that is what they are like. That is what they do. That is what they say. It's an amazing thing and it's good and okay, and you should be excited about it. Because you just added another chapter to the amazing story in your head. And you decide to post about it, but...someone left you an anon. Someone left you a comment. Someone vague posted. And it hurt.

This is happening far too often across tumblr, and it needs to come to a close. I understand that we all have vastly different ideas of who the Papas are and how the Ministry works, but that does not give a single one of you an excuse to say anything untoward or foul to anyone else on this platform. And this isn't talking about any particular group because more often than not, posts like this are used to justify the actions of others. You do not have permission to use this to further your agenda. Be kind. Choose to ignore that fic. Choose to stay off that person's blog. Stop making posts at the expense of others just because you don't like a particular aspect of their world.

I promise you'll still be able to sleep at night.

On F! Reader and x Reader Fic

I have seen many posts since I joined tumblr to write for the Ghost fandom that express a dislike toward reader fics, and in particular f! reader fics. I can't speak for anyone else, but I'd like to just reflect on my own thoughts on the matter, and once again, I appreciate the time taken to read and perhaps understand where I'm coming from, and know that it is a place of care.

I am a woman. When I write fic, I am writing it to satisfy my own little world in my head. So naturally, I am going to make the reader female, because the universal you is not only the friends I share it with or those kind enough to read, but the you is me. Every sweet word whispered, or gentle touch from a Papa is something I wish would happen to me.

I do not have the right to invade someone else's perspective. I do not understand what it is to be a gay man. I do not understand what a trans person experiences every day, and therefore, I do not feel like it is my place to write these perspectives in an x reader fic, or more so than that, in smut. And otherwise, I'm just not comfortable in doing so. I know my experience, and isn't the first step of writing, writing what you know?

I want there to be inclusivity in writing, but that doesn't start with attacking other authors for writing from their own perspective. It doesn't start with making hostile posts about reader fics, because what's the outcome? You just end up with some people very hurt and unwilling to post their stories because they think it's unwanted.

If you feel comfortable exploring these topics, talk to your mutuals. Say hey, what can I do to gain a better understanding of the content that I'm writing? What can I do to ensure that I'm not fetishizing due to my lack of knowledge? Be a community, and help each other out.

On Notes and Reblogs

A note is not the value of your writing. Whether you receive just a few or hundreds, you have impacted someone. Someone loved your story. Someone is thinking about your story all day. Someone was able to make it through because that one thing line you wrote spoke volumes to them.

We put so much of our energy into worrying about notes that the reason we started writing in the first place is lost. It becomes a chore. There are a hundred WIPs sitting in our folders because it becomes so goddamn painful just to work on one.

No one owes you a reblog. No one owes you a like. And even though it's nice, and it's gratifying to see nice comments on something you worked hard on, notes cannot be used as a currency between followers or mutuals. It just becomes a poison. Your entire tumblr experience is going to be marred by the constant worry that you aren't good enough just based on a number.

Learn to appreciate the ones who do read. Allow your story to make you feel good because there it is! That thing you've been thinking about. It's written down. You brought it to life. That is far more valuable than a tumblr note.

If you've reached this point, thank you. Everything you're feeling is good, and okay, and we're gonna get through. Because even now? When it feels like things are more hostile than happy? You still have Ghost. And you still have everything.

#the band ghost #the band ghost community discourse #discourse #x reader fic #f reader fic #ghost headcanons #notes and reblogs #thoughts

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year ago

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The perfect date

300 follower celebration 🖤

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2K

SUMMARY | You're restocking at work when you accidentally fall and are caught by the most handsome man you've ever seen. When he asks you out on a date, you can't say no, and when you run into your ex on that date, he stands up for you like a true gentleman.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Light angst, swearing, talk about cheating.

A/N | I want to give the biggest thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for brainstorming with me for this! I loved how our ideas came together in this one, and I’m looking forward to creating more like this in the future! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🩷

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ only banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

''Good afternoon, welcome to Readers Delight!'' you say as you're restocking some books, and you get a nod from the long-haired man walking in the door.

You give him a wide smile as you step onto a step stool to reach the higher shelves, and everything goes well until someone tries to get your attention, and you fall over.

''Excuse me, Miss,'' a deep voice behind you says, and you're so focused on reaching that the stool slips from underneath you, feeling yourself fall while you shriek loudly.

You close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable thud onto the ground, but it never comes. Instead, you're caught by two pairs of strong arms holding you tightly.

''You're alright; I got you, doll,'' the man says in a deep voice, and you open your eyes.

Looking back at you are a pair of deep blue eyes with a little twinkle and a bright smile.

His nose is slightly crooked from all the times it's been broken, and long brown hair hangs around his face like a silky dark brown curtain.

The arms holding you feel unnaturally strong, but you can't help how it feels to be held by them, and you wish he would never let go of you.

''I-I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to get scared,'' you stumble over your words as you take in his handsome features.

''It's okay; I should've waited until you're no longer standing on a step stool to ask my question. I'm Bucky, by the way,'' he says as he sets you down and extends his flesh hand.

''Y/N, it's nice to meet you, Bucky,'' you say as the blush on your cheeks deepens when you feel how warm his hand is. You're so completely taken aback by the beauty in front of you that you almost forget what you were doing.

''Could I maybe take you out on a date as a way to say thank you?'' he asks, and you're wondering if you heard him correctly.

''Y-You want to go on a d-date? With me?'' you ask as your eyes widen; it's hard to believe someone like him would like to ask you out on a date.

''Only if you'll have me, of course,'' he says as he waits patiently, and you nod.

''That would be nice. I'll give you my number, and afterward, you can ask me the question you wanted to ask earlier,'' you say, and Bucky laughs; he completely forgot about the question he had to begin with.

You're working a closing shift at Readers Delight today, and Bucky agreed to take you out on a picnic on the beach afterward.

It's been a few weeks since he caught you after your fall, and the two of you hit it off. You're constantly texting, and when you're at home, you often talk for hours on the phone.

You decided to wear a yellow maxi dress in preparation for your date, combined with a matching makeup look and earrings. When you sent a photo of it to Bucky, he told you that you look like the sun, and you can't think of a better way to start your day.

The day goes by quickly, for which you're thankful, and right before closing time, Bucky walks in sporting light jeans and a sweater. His hair is up in a high bun, and his cheeks are filled nicely with soft scruff, making him look even more handsome than the first time you saw him.

''Hi, doll,'' he says as he walks in and walks over to you, kissing your cheek softly. ''You still look like the sun, and my day just got even brighter by seeing you,'' Bucky says, making you blush deeply.

''Oh, stop it!'' you say playfully, and you walk away to hide that you're getting more and more flushed at the thought of him being near you.

You close the store, and Bucky picks up a book from behind the counter to read while you are counting the registers, which took a little bit of time today.

You walk over to Bucky with an outstretched hand when everything else is done. ''Are you ready to go on our date?'' you ask, and he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles softly as he brings it to his lips.

The two of you walk out of the store and lock the door, but before you can turn around, you feel Bucky slide his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest as he places soft kisses on your neck.

''Have I told you how beautiful you look today?'' he says as he keeps littering small kisses on your neck and shoulder.

''Maybe once or twice, but you look amazing too,'' you say, feeling Bucky smile against your neck.

You giggle as he turns you around, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug.

''Thank you for saving me and taking me out on a date,'' you tell him, kissing the soft scruff that lines his jaw.

''I would do it repeatedly if it meant I could get more dates with you,'' he says, interlacing his fingers with yours as he guides you to his car.

He opens the passenger-side door and lets you slip in before closing it and walking over to the driver's side.

''I prepared a playlist for tonight; I hope you like it,'' he says, turning it on. Soft jazz music flows out of the speakers, which makes you feel very relaxed.

The drive to the beach is short, but when he parks the car, you gasp a little at the sight in front of you. A beautiful picnic was prepared with the help of Nat and Wanda, who couldn't be more excited to help out the grumpy super soldier.

''Oh my god, Bucky! This looks amazing!'' you say, and you can't help but pull him into another hug.

He helps you sit on one of the pillows they put down, and you dive into the fantastic food they prepared.

''Did you do all this before you picked me up?'' you ask as you pop a grape into your mouth.

''I wish I could say that's the case, but it isn't. I had the help of Nat and Wanda, who insisted this would be perfect,'' he said with a small smile.

''I can't wait to thank them in person because this is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here tonight. It is everything I dreamt of and more,'' you say as you snuggle into his side.

You two share many funny stories and laugh endlessly, but suddenly, Bucky notices you're shivering.

''Here, take my sweater doll. You feel like you're freezing right now,'' he says, pulling off his hoodie and leaving him with a thin shirt that shows off every ridge and muscle on his abdomen and chest.

''Fuck,'' you mutter under your breath as your eyes glide over his body, and suddenly you feel your cheeks redden at the thought that you're openly checking him out like this.

''Well, I'm not used to hearing that when I take off my hoodie, but it's something I won't mind hearing again from you,'' he says, placing a small kiss right underneath your ear. You bite your lip to stifle the moan creeping up your throat.

''Bucky, stop!'' you say as his kisses tickle, and he does, but not without a last kiss on your temple.

''Also, you're never getting your hoodie back because it's so comfortable, and it smells like you,'' you say before taking a whiff, smelling his cologne.

''That's okay with me, but if you want it to keep smelling like that, shouldn't I wear it now and again to ensure it stays that way?'' Bucky asks, and you act like you're thinking hard about that.

''I can allow that, but I need another one to keep me stocked up at all times!'' you say, and Bucky nods before pulling you into his arms and onto his lap.

''I'm perfectly fine with that,'' he says, and the two of you stay like that for a little longer, enjoying the sunset with cuddles and soft kisses littered over each other's cheeks, jaws, and necks.

When the food is gone, Bucky texts Nat so the girls can pack up the picnic, and the two of you are heading to an ice cream shop nearby for dessert.

Bucky picks out a booth for the two of you to sit in, and you sit across from him. You pick up a menu to look at all the options and order a strawberry sundae. He decides to go for a peanut butter milkshake and asks for two straws so you can share.

''I still can't believe you would do all this for me! Honestly, I still can't believe anyone would do this for me,'' you tell him, and Bucky takes your hands in his. Before he can say anything, however, the two of you are rudely interrupted.

''Well, well, it looks like you found another victim to fall for your 'innocent' act,'' a booming voice says, and you shut your eyes when you hear it.

''Alyx, can you please leave me alone? I left your cheating ass for a reason, and I don't appreciate you interrupting me when I'm-'' is all you get out.

He walks over to you and puts his fists on the table as he leans close to you, whispering something.

''You know damn well I left you, not the other way around, bitch!'' he hisses through his teeth, but Bucky doesn't take it well.

''Who are you calling a bitch, huh? She told you to leave her alone, so leave us the fuck alone,'' he says as he gets up, and Bucky easily towers over your ex-boyfriend.

''Do you even know why I had to sleep with someone else? Because she didn't let me touch her! We were together for three fucking years, and she didn't let me touch her once! What else was I supposed to do after all those years?!'' he spits out, but Bucky isn't too happy with his answer.

''Well, for starters, you could have talked to her because she's reasonable. You didn't have to go out and fuck the first thing that spread her legs and break Y/N's heart. But honestly, I'm glad she left you because now I have the chance to show her what a real gentleman looks like,'' Bucky says, but he doesn't notice the tears streaming down your face.

''B-Buck, please. Let's go s-somewhere else,'' you hiccup through your tears, and that's when he turns around. His heart breaks at the sight, but first, he turns back to Alyx.

''You leave now and never bother us again, or I will punch you so badly even your mother won't recognize you anymore,'' Bucky growls, and Alyx scrambles out the door.

''C'mere, I'm so sorry you had to witness all that,'' Bucky says, and you get up and throw yourself into his arms where it feels safe.

''T-thank you for e-everything,'' you say through your tears, but Bucky wipes them away with a soft swipe of his thumbs.

''There's no need to thank me, he just shouldn't be such an ass,'' he says, and you nod.

''I should tell you the real reason he cheated on me, though, because it's not my fault, even though that's what he made it sound like. He cheated on me because I'm still a virgin, and I wasn't ready to give myself to him in that way at the time,'' you say, and you look at the floor instead of at Bucky.

''Doll, there's nothing wrong with not being ready. I would be honored if you would ever be ready to give yourself to me, but if you never want anything to do with me again, I will respect that too,'' Bucky says, and you give him a soft smile.

''I want to have you like that tonight, Bucky. But only if you're up for it too,'' you say, and he smiles back.

''I'd be honored,'' he says, and you stand on your tiptoes to reach his lips, capturing them with yours in a breathtaking, slow, and sweet kiss.

''Let's finish our ice cream first and get out of here after,'' he says before he gives a small peck on your lips.

''Absolutely''.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

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stopthatnel · 2 years ago

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towing cars

nsfw under the cut, reblogs are so appreciated lovely’s 🥺

tw: powerplay, roles of authority, oral sex (m! receiving), anal play (and mentions of it), use of sir, use of pet names, degradation/praise, lmk if i missed any.)

deputy! reiner who knows your car and plates a lot more than he’d like to. several noise complaints could be traced back to your sleek red mercedes and for the first few of them, you were off the hook with a warning. the deputy never understood how many ‘warnings’ a single person could manage without actually receiving a ticket until he was dragging himself out of his house to angrily glare at your car circling his cul de saq.

off duty and all, he’s stomping his feet across his yard while muttering about what kind of psychopath was blaring their music this loudly at two in the morning. he’s harshly tapping at the drivers side window with his knuckles, noticing the barely legal tint applied to the glass. when your window rolled down, reiner almost didn’t see the look of irritation that spread on your features. he was taken aback by your doe eyes, glossy lips and rose stained cheeks.

you hadn’t bothered to turn down your stereo as you glared daggers into his head, appalled by the audacity of the complete stranger who decided to dirty your crystal clear windows. in your eyes, he looked like he just rolled out of bed (he did, thanks to you), and needed someone to argue with.

“ma’am, do you know what time it is?” he asks you, holding onto the roof of your car and leaning into the open window. your ditzy eyes looked like they rolled into the back of your head, popping your gum loudly.

“m’sorry, can’t hear ya! try again during business hours hun.” you’re sarcastically saying, already reaching to roll your window back up. but reiner was absolutely too tired for this shit, reaching one of his arms into your car and pulling your keys from its slot and stepping back. “excuse you? give me my fuckin’ keys you psycho!” you gasp, taking your foot off the break.

“ma’am are you under any influence tonight?” reiner asks, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at you. he watches as you sputter, grabbing your phone off the console and stepping out of your vehicle. your outfit left just enough up for imagination, a pink denim belted mini skirt and a too thin tube top barely keeping your breasts confined.

“are you acting’ like a cop right now? i’ll have you know an actual cop lives on this block, loser. give me my keys back ‘fore i call him!” you threaten cluelessly. the deputy is chuckling, daring you to go ahead and call the cop that you ‘knew’. it was only a few awkward seconds before you realized the house the man came from had a deputy car parked front and center in the drive way.

“i’m sure your cop friend is just busy right now, ain’t that right darling?” your gaze nervously reaches his smug face, suddenly overly aware of the new dynamic that just took place. you quickly unlock your phone and text your friend (who sucked at telling you her neighbor cop was literally the deputy) to stay inside the house until you said anything else.

“m’not drunk or anything, swear.” you mutter, propping your cell between your skin and already stretched out top. “then i’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing a quick sobriety test, right?”

reiner almost laughed in your face when you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning your nose up. “n’ how’re you gonna do that? you’re in your pajamas.”

“i can hold onto your keys and go change into my uniform if that’ll make you more comfortable. in fact, i can even pull out the deputy car and turn on the sirens if you’d like anymore of a scene than the one you’re already causing, doll.”

your ears are turning red at the way he talked to you, so smugly like he trumped you. truthfully, he did. you just hoped you could get your act together and work your magic on the deputy the same way you’ve worked your charm on the other officers that’ve tried to issue you tickets. and in all honesty, you weren’t drunk.

“i- these heels really hurt my feet!” you pout, pointing to the black stilettos that adorned your feet. “and it’s really hard to walk in ‘em. can i take em off at least?” reiner sucks his teeth, swinging your keychain around his fingers as he shamelessly looks you up and down.

“you had’em on while driving, shouldn’t be too hard to walk in. c’mon, straight line, one foot in front of the other.” he steps back farther into the street, crossing his arms and raising his brow expectantly. he watches the way you huff again, keeping your hands to your sides and eyes focused on the shimmering pavement underneath you. walking towards him, reiner would’ve almost made his point had your ankle not rolled to side, leaving you stumbling for balance. he sighs.

“take ‘em off then.” he could almost see something spark in your eyes, staggering back to your starting point. he’d half expected you to bend over and unclasp the ridiculously tiny ankle straps that kept those heels on your feet, and you do that.

except you turn around and keep your legs shoulder width apart when you do so. reiners jaw almost dropped, your bare cunt and pink plug on display for him to see. you took your time undoing the clasps, doing each one individually, allowing yourself to feel the cool air between your thighs. you could feel his stare, and having said nothing you decided to test the waters a bit more, swinging your hips gently as you moved over to the next clasp.

truth be told, this excited you. the once smart mouthed cop had nothing say at the moment and when you came back up, you twirled around and carelessly plucked your phone from out of your top and placing it on your car hood. you smile giddily as you watch the way his eyes trail over the fabric that inched it’s way down the swell of your breasts, areolas peaking out from the very top now of where they rested.

you stared back at him, noticing just as much as him on his counterpart, a tent in his sweatpants slowly becoming visible. “m’kay, ima try this again. if i fail it this time, you can do whatever ya want. but i’m promisin’ you—”

“get to walking.” he’s gritting, his eyes momentarily unable to meet yours. now, now, he understands why little old you was getting away with just warnings. he see’s your red mercedes almost everywhere after that incident, his face unwillingly turning pink each time, almost afraid to keep looking. but he does, and time after time you’re strutting out of that car with the stilettos that were too hard to walk in as you make your rounds to his neighbors house.

deputy!reiner is unsure if you’re fucking his neighbor, but he wouldn’t find it hard to believe if you were. stepping out of his house alone and pulling your miniskirt (how many of those could one person even own?) down over your ass, popping your gum loudly as you get into your car and never bothering to turn down the previous volume you had on your stereo.

however, there’s only so many times he could handle being awoken from his sleep to your ditzy music, your ditzy cackle, your stupid plump lips blowing bubbles with the gum you seemed to constantly have in your mouth. and tonight, reiner didn’t bother going to sleep. he waited to hear your obnoxiously loud engine going way too fast in the cul de saq, sitting at his window and watching you confidently strut over to porco’s house and go inside.

while you’re in there doing god knows what, he has a boot cradled in his arms and the key tight between his teeth. just as quick as he’d show up, he’d be gone, making himself comfortable in his bed until he hears banging at his front door.

his deal was simple, give him one good reason not to issue you four tickets and have your car towed and he’ll give you the key to the boot and let you go on your merry way. but you stood at his door, arms crossed over your chest and a pout forming on your face as you stammered over your words, intimidated by the confident calm he held over you.

“buh, buh, buh. cats got yer’ tongue tonight, lil lady? but what? why shouldn’t i fine you for that tint, for your reckless driving, for your speeding, and noise disturbance?” he’s relishing in this, he’s feeling a comeback from the way you had him acting out of character that night. “i, fuck man, i don’t even know your name.”

“that’s not necessary doll, deputy is fine with me.”

when tears began welling at your eyes, the deputy would’ve almost felt bad had he not known you’d do anything to get out of a tough situation. but with that knowledge in mind, he invited you in, pulling out a seat from his (way too big for one person) dining table and sat directly across from you as if he was about to interrogate you.

“are you seriously going to boot my car? i literally need it, and i- i don’t have the funds to get it out of the yard. this is so fucked up, i didn’t even have my music that loud.”

“i heard it from my bedroom, darling.” reiner lies, a phony sympathetic smile plastered on his face. “look, out of four tickets, im asking for one reason.” he attempts to reason with you. one tear from the welling at your water line slipped past your lashes, groaning and throwing your head into your palms.

“deputy please,” you beg. “i won’t even come ‘round here no more, you’ll never hear from me again. promise!” reiner audibly tsks at your words in disapproval. “not a reason darling. i’ll be calling the tow company and you can head on with the car n’ em.”

the lot of emotions that swirled through your mind almost clouded your eyes from seeing the egging, smug smirk that was plastered onto the deputy’s face. almost, however, is a very important word. you hurriedly wiped your cheeks clean from the saline that stained them, sniffling your nose and picking up your phone. reiner sat and watched you quietly, tapping away at the glass, eager to see your next move. were you going to call someone, perhaps porco next door? after all, you had just came from his house, maybe he’d provide you with some help.

but instead you placed your phone face down on the table and huffed, turning your nose up. “so?” the blonde asks, curious as to what was behind those pretty eyes. reiner wasn’t really going to boot your car and give you four tickets, he wasn’t even on the clock. he just wanted to shake you up a little bit, just enough to allow him a good nights rest. but the way you leaned into his dining table with those big wide eyes of yours and fixed your lips to say,

“you’re right, i was being disrespectful. is there anything i can do to make this up to you? i’ll be a good girl, sir.”

had him thinking back to your pretty pussy bent over on display. god the nights of him closing his eyes and picturing himself just acting on the moment, pulling his sweats down fucking your pussy dumb right on the hood of your car, so dumb that you don’t question him, his authority. promising to be a good girl, just for him.

that smug grin of his seemed to be widening more and more as he stared at you, his biggest giveaway being the way his eyes relaxed, peering at you through his thick lashes. he didn’t jump, or give any tell of the way shimmied closer to the edge of your seat; but your ankles are finding themselves crossed with his, the sound of those too high stilettos clicking underneath the two of you. he clasps his hands in front of him, leaning into your bold movements with a simple cock of the brow. he wanted you to do it.

in fact, he dared you.

“how are you going to make it up? what do you have that could make me give this a blind eye?” he questions you. your ankle inched up his calve the minute his lips closed, watching him carefully as you did. the way he sat there nonchalantly would have made you believe that he could pass a lie detector while lying through his teeth, but that was all for null. seeing as the tip of your heel found what it was looking for, you grinned at the feeling of hardness underneath it.

but that wasn’t enough for you or him, and you don’t hesitate to draw your legs back into your body and slyly unclasp the buckle holding the shoe to your feet. he’s clearing his throat as a cover up to stifle the groan he lets out when he feels you press up onto his crotch, wrapping his calloused hands around your ankle and roughly yanking you forward.

“if you’re doing what i think you’re doing sugar, i need to hear you say it.” he mutters thickly. he’s looking at you through his lashes, waiting for your pouty lips to tell him exactly what you were trying to do, shamelessly at that. but you had to save yourself some dignity, and in return you refused to do that. “what do you think i’m doing, sir?” your heartbeat thumped loudly behind your chest, noticing the way his grip tightened around your skin when you repeated the use of ‘sir’.

reiner oh so definitely wanted to hear you say it, but he couldn’t help it, feeling the ball your foot press back and forth against his awfully hard dick was nothing more than magic to make him speak. “i think you want me to bend you over this table and fuck you like a whore, sweetheart.” reiner never failed to notice the little twinkle in your eye as the pet name drawled from his lips. something about his southern accent saying the nastiest things in the sweetest way.

“do you wanna?” you smack at the gum between your teeth, obnoxiously popping bubbles. reiner’s smirk dropped, tilting his head at your question. he was getting too far in, desperately drawn to your words but he needed to be the one in control here. after all, he did have the key to the boot that kept you here in the first place.

“do you deserve it?”

“it’s not about whether or not i deserve it, it’s about whether or not you’re into it. sir.”

reiner sweeps your ankle off his lap and pushes his chair back, standing up and walking over to your side. he places a palm down onto the table in front of you, the other resting gently on your bare shoulder. he leans into your ear and whispers, “and if i am into it, do you still think you’d deserve to have that slutty cunt of yours split on my cock? you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass, y’know.”

you fluttered your eyes closed at his words, the degrading tone making you cross your legs together. even without reopening them, you can feel his eyes like daggers in your face, expecting a response out of you. you take a shaky breath, opening your lids slowly and glancing at his hand before gently taking his wrist between your comparatively small fingers. you mumble something, something reiner genuinely didn’t hear. he leaned closer into you.

“what’s that?”

“take this as an ‘i’m sorry’.” this time, reiner heard you loud and clear. but just to feel it, he lazily takes his hand off your shoulder and hooks his finger underneath you chin, asking you to repeat that last part. he looks into your eyes, amber but dark as ever.

“m’sorry.”

“show me how sorry you are.” his hand reaches over to the nape of your neck, pulling your cheek to meet the white fabric of his tank top, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath. he look down at you as you place your hands on his hips, fingers blindly dancing at the elastic of his sweats. i could’ve just been a coincidence that he was wearing the exact same outfit as the night you’d flashed him, but it wasn’t. this is how that night should’ve played out, he’s thinking. he should’ve had you choking around his shaft with tears in your eyes just as you are now.

gasping for air as he throws his head back, thrusting into your mouth as he holds your hair up to see you pretty face trying desperately to take a solid gasp of air. he’s grunting at the way your tongue still manages to flatten against the underside of his dick, curling around it to cover your bottom teeth. the drool that coated the elastic of his waistband (which you hadn’t even bothered to tug down fully) didn’t affect him in anyway, barely reaching your chin at every gag you made.

his dick was big, thick and veiny. it was heavy in your mouth, pulsating against your tongue. he was surprisingly neatly trimmed, only a tuft of a blonde landing strip at the base of his happy trail. the mushroom tip was a deep purple color from your throat closing around him so tightly. he tapped it against your hanging tongue, his shaky breaths rocking his upper body as he stares at the submission he’s been seeking.

it wasn’t enough.

he needed more. he needed those tears to count for something, not just his cock bullying your uvula. it should bully your cunt too, but in time. you’re dragging the back of your palm across your mouth in an attempt to clean up the slobbery mess you’ve created, jaw sore from how wide he’d kept it open. “up, c’mon sweetheart. on ya’ feet.”

he watched in satisfaction as you stood up without hesitation, without a word, without a snarky attitude. he wondered where the gum in your mouth had went, and he takes your cheeks into one hand, squishing them to open your mouth. he slips his finger past your red lips and you open up wider, closing your eyes as you feel him press onto your tongue and swipe along under it. you seemed to know what he was looking for, “i swallowed it.” you’re speaking around his digit. he raised his brows up but made no comment, stepping back and using the spit he’d collected to help him tug at his length.

“you sure know how to give a show don’t ya’?” he asks you, watching as he pulls his sweats down further over his thighs. you tilt your head wordlessly, becoming a bit shy as his eyes danced over your figure. you go to tug the leather mini skirt just a bit over your ass, only to be met with that familiar tsking the deputy seemed very fond of aiming at you. you gaze up at him, halting in your actions as he shamelessly stroked his cock.

“tell me, darling. you got that pink plug stuffed in yer’ lil asshole today?” his words sounded slurred, drunk even. you shake your head no, had you known he was seeking it you might’ve just humored him. he chuckled, mumbling something about having something else he could shove in there.

“bend over the table for me.” he tells you, following right behind you. when your chest hits the table you look back at him, admiring the gold between your legs. you wondered what went through his mind, but the quick flicks of his hand wrapped around his leaking tip told you more than you needed to know. his eyes glance over to your peering eyes, “face forward, slut. did i say you could look?” he snaps.

your eyes widen momentarily as you snap your neck forward, then closing them in… embarrassment? your cheeks are heating up, taking in slow breaths as you anticipate his next move. his rough hands are somewhat gentle as he yanks your barely there skirt fully over your ass, fingers kneading the soft flesh. “i wonder what was going on in that empty little head of yours that night,” he mumbles to himself, “were you looking to get fucked?” he elicits a soft gasp from you when he pulls your thighs farther apart, tapping the taut skin of your asshole with his thumb.

“or did you already get fucked? was that plug just to keep your little boyfriend’s cum stuffed in you?” you hum as his fingers drag down to your slit, spreading your lips apart with his middle finger between them. “i- ah, he’s not my boyfriend!” reiner chuckles at your exclamation, but doesn’t dwell on it too much as he pursues his lips and spits onto his finger, mixing it in with your slick.

“i bet he won’t be after this for sure, ain’t that right sugar? you’re gonna be a good girl and listen t’me, huh?” reiner is still waiting for syour answer as you whine from the width of his fingers, slowly inching into your cunt. “yes, i- i’m sorry.” reiner almost laughed at you, all of that snotty brat behavior went where exactly? two knuckles deep into you and it’s gone, you’re a quiet whimpering slut.

so, he laughs.

“what’re… oh fuck- what are you laughing about?” you ask, squeezing your eyes tightly as he curls his fingers into you. the deputy doesn’t respond to you, simply fucking into your pussy with his digits, trying to stretch you out. if it’s one thing about the deputy, he was in control, and being in control called for an awareness that the normal person wouldn’t typically project.

and reiner knew his cock would stretch your little hole out until it was molded to the shape of him, and a little help wouldn’t be an issue for him to give. your pussy spasmed around his fingers, but reiner was a bit confused. he expected you to be loud, matching your boisterous actions. however your eyes remained shut tight, small gasps and whines escaping through your nose. your hands held onto the corner of the table tightly, and for a moment reiner almost doubted whether or not you felt good.

but when he thrusted into you, the gasp you’d let out was nothing short of an ego boost to the deputy. the squeals tumbling from your lips, the incoherent mumbles of words that could’ve been apologies or gratitude played no roll in the way reiner’s hips met yours, and with such animalistic growls coming from him you almost didn’t believe it.

his hands meet the skin flush on his thighs, pulling your own thighs wider apart as he digs into your stomach. he felt so deep you’d swear if you put your hand over your belly you’d feel him. and speaking of your hands, they gripped the sleek wood beneath you tightly, promising yourself not to run from his assault on your cunt.

“fuck, i was laughing ‘cus this is how i was supposed to have this pretty pussy. if you wanted,” he pushes down on your back with one hand, digging in deep and leans forward. he was bottomed out, nipping at the stretchy fabric of your tube top with his teeth. he’s pulling it down hastily, his skin feels hot against your back. “you could’ve just asked to be fucked right. i wouldn’t say no, especially not to a brat like you.”

while his voice was strained, he still somehow managed to speak to you in a belittling manner. your nails dig into the surface beneath you, crying out as he draws his hips back and then slamming it back flush.

“oh my fucking god!”

“there ain’t nothing godly about this, darlin’. how about reiner, how about you call for me.”

you couldn’t even process the fact that he finally told you his name, but you’re calling it, over and over like a prayer. his hands won’t stop moving, pressing down on your shoulders, holding the skin of your ass apart and spitting his drool onto your asshole.

he was watching the way it would drip down to your split open cunt, disappearing in the mess you’ve already made on his dick. so fuckin’ pretty, your head was spinning from the contrasting nothings and something he was whispering to you. he was calling you a slut, but it’s okay because you’re his pretty slut, and he was going to fuck your attitude into place.

he was most definitely keeping his word, dropping his leg from the chair and lifting you up and flipping you over. you finally get a good look at him, sweat beaded at his brow, his cheeks were pink, and best of all, the shit eating smirk was back and full blown. he doesn’t let you think too long, dragging you to the edge and lining himself back up to your hole. wasting no time, he dips back in slowly, watching the way your face stared down at where the two of you connected, panting and relishing in the way he stretched you out.

about halfway, he’s giving you slow languid thrusts, taking the tempo to catch his breath. “fuck me back baby,” he says, cupping the rounds of your ass under him. you prop yourself up onto your elbows, rolling your hips into his thrusts, stifling a moan when the mushroom tip of his cockhead nudges at your gspot.

“you take this dick so good… fuckin’ made fr’ it.”

#aot smut #aot x reader #snk smut #aot reiner #reiner smut #reiner braun x you #snk reiner #reiner braun smut

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clockmax · 2 years ago

Text

In Turn for Revenge

A/N: I’m gonna say sorry for the shitty ass writing. Literally my first fanfic I’ve written so I was pretty nervous writing this ahaha… anyways you can just slightly enjoy it if it doesn’t get too cheesy because I’m bitchless and need a new hobby other then wanting to fuck blue alien men

Warnings: mentions of hating Jake, brief mention of kidnapping, mentions of being homesick, pet names, fingering, orgasm, one mention of daddy/sir, porn with little to no plot,reader is in heat (I got carried away..) not proofread /barely proofread, I think that’s all tbh

PAIRING: Miles Quaritch x Na’vi!Fem!Reader

MDNI. REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

That’s when Miles Quaritch came into play. He had the sole mission of eliminating Sully. You could remember the exact night you had met. A wakeful night for you as you set camp in the forest, eventually being ambushed by the recons. No matter how much you put up a fight and tried to bite them, you were taken away.

For a while, you felt a void in your heart. You had loved Eywa and pandora, yet this empty room stripped you of any connections with the outside. The worst part is you could on,y breath the air for a bit. It was always cold compared to the tropical temperatures of your home. It all distorted you for a bit, lashing out and making so many attempts to run and get out.

You gave up on fighting, you gave up on escape. No matter what you did, Quaritch seemed to detect your motion and put you back in your place. You finally started spitting up information on what you knew. It almost felt like word vomit with how much information you’d spill. You had no one else to talk to during solitude, so it was best for you to talk with the colonel.

With time, he let you grow close to him. Your curiosity about everything only grew. You wanted to know so much more about Miles. Your tail would perk up just from hearing his voice talk to you. Eventually he was able to sneak you away to get some time outside. In return, you gave more information and taught him basic Na’vi

Even if this was all bad, you really didn’t see a problem with it. You hated Jake just as much as Colonel. It’s how the blossom started. Over your months here, you grew close to the recom soldier. Frequent visits to your room for conversations, or excuses to bring you outside to talk. It’s not like anything would go any further. After all, you were what his enemy once was.

You sat in the corner of the room, staring at the mirror as you tail lays beside you. Everything’s quiet and now it always is. You’ve adapted to the room with each day, almost making it your new home. Sure, you wanted to be back in nature with Eywa, but you’ve learned to adapt. Adapted during the war, and adapting now.

Taking a breath from your air pack, you simply sit there in silence. Mind roaming free, thinking of all kinds of situations. That’s until you’ve settle on a certain.. situation with the colonel. Great mother eywa, it was so bad and dirty to even think of a friend like that. Your tail picked itself up, wagging. Your hands covered your face which was burning with blush, the tip of your ears almost going red. No matter what distraction you tried, your mind was stuck on that singular thought.

The thought of him pinning you down, pleasuring you to the brink of stupidity. You just thought your heat had rolled around, but that was quickly thrown away when you realized it’s still too early for heat. As the thought progressed, your core lets out its arousal. The liquid soaking your loincloth, sticking to your thighs.

The feeling was almost uncomfortable. A burning sensation threatening to burst in your stomach, mind going places where it shouldn’t have. The rising arousal was just something out of your control, bothering you to the point you were almost irritated.

Getting up from your corner, pacing the room. Trying to recall memories of your childhood or a song, anything to get your mind. But nothing worked, your mind was fixated on this man; What’s even worse is you thought about him sexually. That was the thing that tinged at you the most. If he even saw you in this state.. Eywa knows the humiliating jokes that would follow.

All this continued for the following minutes. The pool of arousal growing, your core almost pulsing for a touch, tail swaying out of excitement. No matter what your words was, your mind and body were giving away the situations. At this rate, you were convinced this was your heat kicking in early. There was no other plausible explanation you could think of.

You were so conflicted over your thoughts that you never noticed Miles walking in, almost watching this as if it was entertaining.

“Aye, ya gonna snap back into reality? Been watching you pace like a anxious dog for too long.” His voice is firm, though a small underlying tone of worry was hidden underneath. Your body came to a complete stop, thighs squeezing together as you stood awkwardly.

How on earth were you going to have to explain the heat cycle to him? Even worse he seemed to be all your mind thought about. To your view, he seemed so much hotter in person. You wanted to pounce on him and feel him up. God what was wrong with you.

“Y/n? Are ya okay?” Quaritch asked again, snapping his fingers to get your attention.

“Im uhm-“ You pause, taking a shakey breath as you try to ground your thoughts, “I’ll be okay..”

“Is that so? Ya been pacing around for no reason?” The colonel raised a eyebrow, questioning your words. You were just a hot mess at this point. Eywa sometimes had such a cruel sense of humor. This was humiliating almost.

“If I say you will laugh..” Your voice trailed off as your crouched down to the floor, almost sinking back into your corner. You felt ashamed to tell Quaritch. No matter how close he was to you it just felt like it would make it awkward.

“Come on pumpkin, you know I’d never laugh at you.” The echos of his footsteps stop when he finds his way in front of you, crouching down to your level. The effect he had on you was something you could never explain. It just made your aroused whenever he called you those names or touched you.

“I have reason to believe my heat cycle has rolled around early.” Mumbling, you avert your eyes to meet Miles’. The eye contact almost sent shivers down your back. The moment those words left your mouth, something changed.

His pupils were blown out, gavial expression changed. He almost looked hungry, like he wanted to devour you right then and there. Something you’ve never seen before. It was common for unmated Na’vi to help each other in heat cycles, but this didn’t seem like he wanted to help.

It was like he’s been waiting for a chance to fuck you, smelling the restraint he used to hold himself back from going down on you right then and there. The aura itself was something ravishing.

“So you want help solving ya issue? Just say the word and I’ll make it real good for ya.” The colonels voice was seducing, drawing you in closer. It felt like your faces were just mere millimeters away. Your breathing sped up, your heart almost popping out of your chest. The word themselves was enough to stir your insides up more, dripping down your inner thigh.

“Use your words, princess. Cant do nothin’ with silence.” Lifting a finger to hold your chin, keeping eye contact.

“Miles.. sir please fuck me.” The words almost rolled off your tongue with ease. All dignity was thrown out the window, all your mind could think about was Quaritch.

“Remove your loincloth and top, want ya on full display for me.” Miles said firmly , wanting to waist no time. If anything, he wanted to see your pretty little face contort with please from him. He wanted to see just how far he could take it until overstimulation became too much for you.

Within seconds you had removed your clothing, leaning into the wall. You did your best to relax, letting the man have his way with you.

“Damn.. if I knew you were this beautiful naked I woulda stripped you sooner..” The words only stirring up your heat more, body practically begging for his touch. Leaning in, lips locking in almost a fiery kiss.

Neither of you pulled away until you couldn’t breathe, almost attached to each other. The Colonel’s hand moving down to your aroused core, fingers forming small circles over your aching mound. Waves of pleasure rippled through your body, hips jerking up into his fingers.

The feelings of his cold, calloused fingers pressed up against your bud was something like no other. Your body giving away just how much you really enjoyed this, maybe more then you should have. Tail whipping against the air, a string of moans falling from your lips.

“Miles, please-“ You whine, hips lazily grinding against his fingers. Your body craved more, wanted more. You wanted Quaritch, you wanted him so bad. It’s like your body was made for him, everything Miles wanted in a women.

“‘Atta Girl, don’t hide your noise.” Eywa, the grip this man has you is insane. His voice was firm enough for you to obliege, yet soft enough to cause that tight feeling in your stomach.

All thoughts going interrupted, the feelings of two fingers entering you almost sending you overboard. The stretch was not too painful, but pleasurable. Velvet walls squeezing on them, slick coating a new layer on the man’s fingers.

“Suckin’ me right in, bet ya’ wanted this.” Miles was right, the amount of times you’ve dreamed of this was almost embarrassing. The feeling of his thumbs on your clit and fingers in you, your mind was going blank.

Only blabbing out incoherent sentences, face going flush. The expert book of the man’s fingers hitting right against the gummy spot in you. Legs shaking, the coil in your stomach almost threatening to snap any minute.

“Sir please-! Right there ohmyeywa-“ You we’re going absolutely blank on him. Hips snapping back with his rhythm.

“That’s it, cum on daddy’s fingers.” If anything, it almost sounded like a command. You didn’t even have to say anything for his pace to pick up.

The knot in your pit got tighter and tighter. Pleasure overwhelming you, body shaking as if this was your first orgasm. It wasn’t long before you did overboil.

Thighs closing, cutting off Miles’ arm from moving. You could feel yourself gush around him, coating his fingers in your sweetness. The sight was something to behold. Fucked out face, shaking legs, if only Quartich could keep you like this forever.

“There we go, feeling better now?” The recons head cocked, making sure you weren’t too overwhelmed. The slight nod from your head telling him all he needed to know.

“Thank you-“ Most of your energy faded away, grabbing your loincloth. The feeling of cold air was starting to bother you.

“Take a few minutes to relax, you’ve got about fifteen minutes before we go back out.”

Oh geez, would have been nice to know that before. You slightly rolled your eyes, giving one last nod before the man walked out.

———

#miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #avatar smut #miles quaritch x reader

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