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sunflowerwinds · 22 days ago

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sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: on a slow day at your grandmother’s bakery, a customer captures your attention. as the weeks pass, you see her pop up more and more. a gentle friendship ignites between the two of you. the only issue was the undeniable attraction to her and it didn’t help now having to do her a kind favor. it would go away…. right?

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is described to have long enough hair to tie up, reader has a sister named mila, we love gram, vander, isha and jinx mentions <3, nothing but fluff, strangers to friends to lovers:)

word count: 3.5K

a/n: i seriously had so much fun writing this and i am excited to dig into a mini-series with vi. i hope everyone enjoys this as much as i do </3

— ONE

Running your grandmother’s bakery wasn’t easy but it was a light in your life. She taught you tips and tricks of working the large industrial oven, every single one of her recipes, and wiping down the chalkboard to write the specials for the delicious treats.

She was charm personified; somehow able to convince pretty much every person that walked to the pastry shop to try at least one item. You were on the more quiet side, not insanely secluded but you weren’t extroverted. Nice people cracked you open and next thing you knew it, you were shoving a donut into their palms to take home.

It was a bad habit.

It was a slow Thursday in November. You were sweeping the small area of seating, softly asking one of the usual college students that came if they needed anything else. You were just a few streets down from the community college so many people your age would come in for coffee and furiously type on their laptops.

Once you were told they were good for now, you excuse yourself back to behind the counter to adjust the display desserts. You were bent over when you heard the bell over the door echo within the space, shouting ‘welcome in’.

“If you have any questions, just let me know. We have a daily special which is on the blackboard,” you stood back up with a slight grunt from the rush, brushing a few flyaways to kindly smile at the new customer. “Today we have buy one, get one donut free.”

Your eyes slightly widen at the… attractiveness of the customer. You adjust the neckline of your soft brown cable knit sweater to tug out your necklaces, plastering on a friendly smile.

“I actually came in because I was curious about the sign,” she trails off, tilting her head as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Do you actually just let people smell the food?”

You let out a soft chuckle as you nod. Your grandfather, one of the only men who had ever tolerated, made the sign for your grandmother the second she mentioned it to him. Now, in all its carved glory ‘Free Smells!’ is hanging underneath the shop's main sign: Sweet Tooth Bakery + Cafe.

“Yeah, my grandma thought it’d be a funny sign to draw people in. Obviously, we don’t let them shove their nose into it or anything,” you shake your head, holding your hand out to the stranger. “Because that’s… unsanitary.”

The pink haired stranger nods with a soft chuckle, stepping back to check out the arrangement of treats in the display case. In that moment of silence, you, as discreetly as possible, check her out. She had on a navy blue cut off sleeve zip-up, a soft white tank top underneath and a pair of grey sweatpants hugging her lower half. Very simplistic outfit but she made it look good.

You think she just naturally looked good. If you stared for long enough, which you embarrassingly did so, you could see markings of ink on the side of her neck and following down the backs of her arms and the smallest etching on her cheek.

“Any suggestions on what to smell first?” She questions, curious eyes bouncing back up to you.

You hum to yourself as you, too, stagger your eyes from pastry to pastry to carefully choose which one you could have her smell.

“Are you a fan of blueberries?” You question with a beaming grin.

“Uh, sure, yeah. Blueberries are good.”

“Then you have to take a whiff of the blueberry danish. It’s one of my favorites.” You offer, pointing to the sweet treat.

The pink haired stranger leans forward, folding her bare arms across her chest. You, again, can’t help your stares as you try to figure out what was exactly dotted into her pale skin. She nods with a shrug, looking at you with a kind smile.

“I’ll give it a whiff, yeah,” she stepped forward so that the glass of the display case was the only obstacle between the two of you.

You can feel your face getting hot as you mutter a bright ‘okay’ to yourself. You bend over once again grab the metal tongs to pick out the danish to place on a ceramic plate. You place it on top of the display case, motioning for the stranger to give it a smell.

Still seeming a bit hesitant that you were playing a joke on her, she leans her face forward so that she is mere centimeters away from the pastry. She inhales a bit, letting out a long sigh as she leans back to look at you.

“Shit, that smells amazing,” she praises the sweet aroma, nodding in satisfaction. “I’ll take it.”

You blink at her before chuckling awkwardly.

“You don’t have to buy the ones you smell. I promise.” You reassure her as you attempt to put the danish back so that you can shove the cranberry-orange muffin in her face.

She’s quick to hold a palm out to stop you, shaking her head. A beautiful smile spreads on her lips, temporarily forgetting how eager you were to show her every single pastry on display.

“I want that one. I swear. Plus, my sister’s going to rush me out of here if I take too long.”

A part of you was disappointed that she was so quick to purchase the first, yet incredibly delicious, treat. You selfishly wanted her to stay for as long as possible. Your grandmother would be on your ass for being so distracted by an attractive customer.

She would give you a clap on the back for making a sale, though.

“Oh, okay. Did your sister want anything?” You offer, itching to find any way possible for her to stay just a bit longer.

The stranger hums to herself for a moment as she examines the rest of the delicious treats. You tilt your head as you grab a small brown paper bag to place the danish into, waiting patiently to see if she was going to pick another item.

To your delighted surprise, she nods as she points to a more simplistic pastry.

“I think this pink donut should be good,” she nods to show certainty.

You grasp onto the sweet treat to slide it into the bag with her danish, trying not to spill a lot of the sprinkles. You seal it closed with a custom sticker with the logo of the shop, typing up her total into the register. The stranger reaches into her sweatpants pocket to pull out her wallet.

“Your total is gonna be $7.89. Cash or card?” You question.

“Card.”

You watch her hand you a simple light blue credit card, grinning as you not-so-discreetly check out her full name on it. Her first name caught your attention. Violet. As you swipe her card, you clear your throat to work up the courage to give her a compliment.

“I love your name. It’s pretty,” you say as you hand her back the card.

The stranger, now known as Violet, smiles small at your words. Her long fingers take the card from you as she slides it back into her wallet.

“Thank you. My, uh, dad named me,” she grins at you.

“Well, he made a very good choice,” you hand her the bag as well, nodding as you try not to appear awkward. “Anything else I can get for you?”

Were you being weird?

“No, no, I’m good,” she chuckles as she crinkles the bag in her palms. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You nod as you hand her own copy of the receipt, holding onto the half second of the tip of her fingers brushing against yours. You watch her turn her back and leave the shop, eyes never leaving her sculpted back profile. You huff at your behavior once the bell from above the door snaps you out of your small trance, shoving your copy of the receipt into its designated spot.

“She’s cute,” you hear from behind you, causing you to jump and whip your head around.

You’re met with your grandma grinning evilly at you, a little bit of flour smudged on her cheek from her baking in the back.

“Gram,” you sigh as you shake your head, brushing away your loose hairs.

“I’m just saying, bug,” she walks up next to you to rub up and down your arm.

You blush at what she was insinuating. As much as you love your grandmother, she attempted to be your match maker like you were an introverted middle schooler. You were 22 for God's sake. You would make moves and flirt when you felt like it.

“Don’t you have something in the oven?” You raise your eyebrows at her, hoping she’d leave it alone.

“Hey. I could fire you, you know,” your grandma pointed a finger in your face accusingly but her tone was light and a cheeky grin was on her face.

You roll your eyes playfully as you softly bump your hip with hers.

Everyday since Violet came in, you perk at the sound of the bell hoping to see that head of pink hair waltzing in again. Two excruciatingly long weeks pass before you see Violet again.

What was disappointing about seeing her today of all days was that you were working this shift with your 17 year old sister who was… less than thrilled to be working now; especially with you being her superior in a workplace. She, like most teenagers, was yearning to be more independent which meant constantly disregarding your instructions on what to do at work.

You were irritated beyond belief with her constantly arguing with you. You couldn’t even really fully pay attention as Mila smacked your arm with the rag. When you saw her from outside the shop, this time around she came with company. You were in the midst of a bicker with her because she didn’t wipe down a table like you had told her to when you saw Violet coming in with a little girl walking beside her.

You gasp at her childish antics, pinching her arm but then shushing her as you tight-lipped smile at Violet as she approaches the familiar display case. You try not to frown at the sight of her bandaged nose and small bruise sitting right on the apple of her cheek. Her outfit is similar from the last time you saw her except a simple oil-black hoodie with those same joggers. You even saw a bit of wrapped bandages on her hands peeking out from the sleeves.

Was she jumped or something?

“There are only, like, two people here and they’re sitting outside,” your sister whisper-shouts at you, plastering on a fake smile at the new customers. “Hi! Welcome in.”

Violet glances at Mila when she straightens her back, placing a gentle hand on the back of the child’s back to guide her to the display of new and fresh treats for the day. She places her little hands on the glass as she very eagerly bounces on the soles of her worn in dark blue tennis shoes.

“Hi! Violet, you’re back.” You turn to your sister and sneer quietly. “Clean the tables. Now, please.”

Mila gives Violet a once-over and you a narrow glare as she grumbles a ‘fine’ as she rounds the corner to go and wipe down the crumb and dust filled tables.

“Hey. You can call me Vi, by the way. I, uh, was with my sister for the day and she wanted to try this place. I gave her some of my danish and she went crazy.” Violet motioned to the child just a few feet below her, chuckling at her gazing hungrily at the sweets.

“Well, Vi, I’m glad to hear,” you lean your head to the side to get a good look at her sister.

She had a wild head of short waves, a small gap in between her two front teeth. Her outfit made her ten times more adorable; a plain white Henley long sleeve with a pair of overalls. Her big hazel eyes stared at you patiently.

“Hi, cutie. Do you see one that you like?” You question her with a friendly smile.

Her adorable face scrunches up in thought, stepping back to look at her choices. She turns her head to her older sister before pointing at a strawberry muffin and raising her hands to sign what you believe is ASL. You curse yourself for not knowing what she was telling the pink haired stranger.

“She wants to smell the strawberry muffin,” Vi chuckles. “I told her about how you let me smell my danish first before buying it.”

“Okay, I can do that for you. What’s her name?” You question, hoping it didn’t come off as offensive.

“Isha. She doesn’t talk much,” Vi raised a bandaged hand to settle on her light brown waves on her head, ruffling the strands.

“Well, Miss Isha,” you focus your attention on her once again, watching her bounce on the balls on her feet with excitement. You grab your trusty metal tongs to grab the muffin and place it on a soft blue ceramic plate to set it down on the counter area of your register set-up for her to smell. “Here you go. Let me know if you want to smell anything else.”

Your heart grows tenfold as Vi quietly tells Isha to not shove her nose into the muffin, smiling at her sister as she hovers close to the pastry.

“Is she the one who ate the pink donut?” You turn your attention to Vi, raising your brows as you adjust your flyaways from your bubble braid.

Pretty blue eyes flickering to yours, her brows twitch as if she was shocked that you remembered such a minuscule detail.

“No, that was my other sister,” she shakes her head. “Isha was actually very angry with me when I came home with no cupcakes or muffins for her so I’m making it up to her.”

You watch her scrunch up her bruised bridge of her nose for a second as Isha signs something else to her. Vi playfully rolls her eyes with a sigh as she turns to you with another wince.

“Can she eat this now? She has an impatient appetite.”

You chuckle with a nod as you hand the plate to her, muttering a ‘careful, sweetie’ to Isha who beams up at you. She scurries over to a small round table to hop up on the seat to divulge. Now that it was just you and Vi standing in front of each other.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask softly, eyes flicking to each injury on her gorgeous face.

Confused about your concern for her, her brows furrow for a moment. You watch her turn around to make sure Isha was all good, hounding down the muffin with crumbs falling from her mouth to the ground.

“Oh, yeah,” Vi shook her head, waving at you off as she grins sweetly. “I work at a kick-boxing studio and some of the kids can get aggressive. I’m okay, though, trust me. I’ve taken more than a few hits to the head.”

That explains the injuries and the bandaged hands. Of course, she was a kick-boxer. Her physique gave that away but what did you know? Isha was distracted with her muffin so you were able to converse with her, get to know her a little more so your gram would stop asking you if that cute pink haired girl came in again.

��Really? Where at?” You hum.

“It’s like fifteen minutes from here. Why? You want to come see kids beat me up?” She teases, folding her arms over her chest.

You hum with a nod, walking around the counter to place a napkin on the table so Isha could wipe her face to be rid of the sticky crumbs on her face. “Yeah, that’s exactly why. Because I’m a masochist.”

An actual laugh left her plush lips as she shook her head, eyes following you as you face her now. If Gram could see you now. Well, she was probably watching you from the security cameras in the back room with an evil smile.

“You know, I meant to ask. Do you make custom cakes?” Vi leans back to rest her lower back on the countertop where your register was, crossing her legs and shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.

She really just looks like that, you thought to yourself.

“We do, yeah. Is your birthday coming up?” You look at her with raised brows.

Vi shakes her head, pointing to the little girl behind you. “No. Her birthday is next week and my family is throwing her a zoo themed birthday party.”

You awe out loud at the thought.

“That’s so cute. Yeah, I can— I mean, we can do that,” you shake your head as you correct yourself, hoping she didn’t catch your desperate slip-up.

Isha stands up from her table, dusting off the crumbs from her overalls. She walks over to you to hand you the plate, signing ‘thank you’ to you. You pause for a moment before hesitantly signing back ‘you’re welcome’ slowly, not sure if you were doing it right. You knew the basics but weren’t extremely educated on ASL. After today, though, you were determined to brush up on it.

Isha eyes brighten at you signing back to her. She turns to Vi with a smile so wide, you swore her cheeks would split open. She nods down at Isha, ruffling her hair once again as she reaches for her pocket to retrieve her wallet.

“Shit, sorry, how much do I owe you for the muffin?” Vi shuffles through the bills in her wallet.

“No, no. You’re… good. Don’t worry about it.” You wave her off, shaking your head.

Vi pauses before scoffing, attempting to shove the money into your palms. “I’m paying for the muffin.”

“Seriously. It’s one muffin, Vi. Plus, a little early birthday present for Isha.” You shove the bills into her hands once again, gripping onto her hands to make sure she doesn’t try to give them back.

Vi glances down at your gentle hands around hers. Reluctantly taking the money back, she takes the bills before shoving them back into the crease of her wallet. You try not to focus on how slightly bigger her hands were from yours; how surprisingly soft her knuckles were.

Isha seems to become impatient now with her elder sister, reaching up to tug on two of her fingers. Vi nods down to her, muttering a soft ‘okay, okay’.

“Thank you for that, by the way. And if it's not too much trouble for you, cupcake, can I get your number?” Vi questions as she takes Isha’s hand in hers. “You know, for any questions about what the cake should look like and what flavor it could be.”

Your brows furrow at her words before nodding, pursing your lips to repress the smile creeping onto your face. Cupcake. You like that nickname coming from her lips.

“Right! Yes, um,” you walk over to the counter to grab a sticky note and a pen to scribble down your personal number. “Here. Call or text me with all the information.”

You place the small yellow piece of paper into her palm that wasn’t holding Isha’s. She takes it in between her pointer and middle fingers, nodding with a confident smile.

“I will. See you, cupcake.”

“See you, Vi. Bye, sweetheart,” you bend down ever so slightly to wave at Isha.

The adorable girl waves her free hand at you with a just as cute toothy smile on her face. You excused it as a sugar rush as they walk away from you, hand in hand as they leave the store. Vi turns her head to give you one more glance before Isha is tugging her down the sidewalk.

Mila angrily stormed up to you the second they left and raised her hand with the rag to smack you on the forearm. You gasp and snatch the weapon away from her, pointing a finger in her face.

“What the hell? Stop hitting me with this,” you sneer.

“I’m wiping down tables and you’re flirting? How the hell is that fair?” Mila quips back as she folds her arms in front of her chest.

“I wasn’t flirting. I was taking a cake order, by the way, so you can stop whining.” You roll your eyes as you walk back around to the counter.

Mila sucks in a deep breath before shaking her head.

“Really? So what was that whole,” your sister cleared her throat, sucking in a deep breath. “Giving her your personal number when you could’ve just given her the store's number?”

You pause your movements of wiping down the counter from behind the register, thinking about it for a moment. You knew why. You just hated your sister being all in your business.

“Okay, what is it to you?” You get defensive. “I can’t… make new friends?”

Mila merely snorts before rolling her eyes.

“Sure. You definitely only want to be friends with her.”

TAGLIST: @strawberrykidneystone @lovinglynny @kylorey25

#wlw #sapphic #lesbian #vi x you #vi fluff #vi arcane #arcane vi x reader #arcane vi #vi fanfic #arcane show #arcane league of legends #arcane league of lesbians

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thebestandworstdayofjune · 4 months ago

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snapdragons mean i'm sorry

summary: you own a flower shop down the street from Wade and Althea, and now Logan's apartment. You and Logan had grown quite close, until you hear him complaining about you through the door. A week later, he shows up at the shop, groveling wc: 2.0 k a/n: sorry about the delay with this one, things have been a bit crazy! I really enjoyed writing for worst!Logan, I think I'm considering a part two for this as well. This fic is based on this request! warnings: lots of hurt and comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, confused and groveling Logan, Wade being a meddler, slight spoilers for the end of Deadpool and Wolverine

You were two seconds away from chucking the bouquet that you were working on clear across the room. Instead, you gently set the flowers down on your workbench and tightened your pony tail. Heaving a sigh, you snatched the broom out of it’s place leaning up against the doorway and made you way to the front of store.

Usually, being surrounded by all of your flowers and specially curated knickknacks brought you a sense of peace. But so far today you’d broken two vases and stabbed your thumb on rose thorns maybe more than you’d ever done in your entire life.

Being friends with a superhero (singular) was much less stressful than you’d thought it would be. Wade would stop in to the shop around once a week to buy flowers for Vanessa, always with a quick joke or two before being on his way. It wasn’t until he’d saved you from an attempted mugging a few years back that you’d really become close. And you’d been there for a lot. Through his break up with Vanessa, when he was nonstop moaning about how deeply he hated selling lightly used cars, and whenever he needed a second opinion about a new hair system he was perched on a second stool that now had permanent residence behind the counter, right next to yours.

Being friends with superheroes (plural) was bringing a new host of issues. Namely, an accelerated heart rate and trouble forming your words in front of Wade’s new roommate. Wade had warned you that his new acquisition was prickly when he’d stopped over to invite you to the Welcome Home Pizza Party Palooza, according to the hand drawn invitation he’d proudly presented you. He’d lured you in with promises of meeting his new dog before dropping the bomb that there was an introduction to his roommate included in the package deal. You’d already agreed, and Wade was too busy rambling about how you were being moved up to from side character status for you to intercede with a made up reason you could no longer attend.

You historically didn’t do well with meeting new people, and someone who was likely to snap at you at some point throughout the evening, by Wade’s estimations, was an even bigger hurdle. Even though you had worked yourself up enough to feel slightly sick to your stomach, you’d arrived at the party, armed with flowers for the new roommate and a mini bouquet of dog treats for Mary Puppins. Wade and Al’s apartment was full of familiar faces when you’d arrived. You were caught up in a conversation with Peter and Yukio for a few minutes before they’d asked about the flowers all but forgotten in your hands. You admitted they were a welcome home present, and Peter kindly pointed out where Logan was standing across the room. You’d thanked him, and made your way across the room.

When you reached him in the kitchen, you stood quietly behind him, working up the courage to make your presence known. Ultimately, it was unnecessary, because he quickly turned around and greeted you with a crinkly-eyed smile that made your heart flutter against your better judgement. You’d shyly handed over the flowers, stuttering through the explanation of owning the shop down the street and apologizing preemptively if he didn’t like them, expecting a strong rebuttal. He certainly looked like the type of man to rebuff the offer of flowers in fear of appearing unmanly or some other nonsense. Instead, he took the flowers from you gently, thanking you. He turned away, searching through the cabinets before pulling out a novelty beer stein decorated with My Little Pony characters with a huff. Logan made quick work of depositing the bouquet in the beer stein, but he frowned at his work, clearly unhappy with the vase options. “So you’re the florist that he’s obsessed with.”

You smiled to yourself, glad to hear that Wade wasn’t only kind to your face. “Are you kidding me?” Speak of the devil. Wade slung an arm around your shoulders, depositing your typical drink of choice in your hand. “More like worship the ground you walk on. I may be Marvel Jesus but I’m your disciple. The things she can do with a chrysanthemum.” He moaned in a way you had never heard someone while talking about a flower, of all things.

Logan shook his head, but before either of you could respond, Wade noticed Vanessa coming through the door and was at her side in an instant. You’d stood with him in the kitchen for a few moments, silent but comfortable. It wasn’t long before Althea had called everyone to the table, where you took your usual seat next to Althea and Vanessa. The evening had been comfortable and you couldn’t help but notice how naturally Logan and his daughter Laura fit into your strange little family.

The next day, you’d stopped by their apartment armed with another bouquet, this one beautifully arranged in one of your favorite vases you kept in stock. You couldn’t shake the image of how disappointed Logan had looked with his options the previous night. Al had ushered you inside quickly, letting you know that the rest of the roommates had left her in the name of picking up some necessities for Logan. You’d dropped the vase on the kitchen counter, ruffled Mary Puppins’ hair and saw yourself out.

Logan had come by to thank you at the store, startling you where you were working in the back. You’d fumbled one of your vases, sending it crashing to the ground. Logan was quick to usher you onto a stool, locating a broom and making quick work of the glass. You’d insisted you could take care of it, but he’d shot your down insisting that he would heal right up if he managed to cut himself and he didn’t feel like a trip to the ER. It should have stung, but there was a lightness to his voice and a twinkle in his eyes that instead had you fighting down the hear rising to your cheeks.

After a few weeks, it was routine for you to stop by a couple nights a week after work, armed with a fresh set of flowers for the vase and some take out. Logan very well could have taken some home with him, as often as he was stopping by, but somehow you’d always get to talking and forget to bundle some up for him. He was immensely helpful around the shop, able to reach things on high shelves and move heavy pallets you would get in much more easily than you were able to. Wade’s stool had quickly become Logan’s but you didn’t much mind.

Your hand had settled on the doorknob to their apartment, when two familiar voices faded in through the closed door. It was instinct to pause, you hand’t really meant to snoop. But the words hurt all the same. “I really am fond of her, but she could really stand to let up on how often she’s hanging around me.” Your heart started to hammer, frozen in the hallway.

“I hear you peanut,” Wade was quick to respond. “Cling-ville USA, population her, amiright?”

“Fuck off, you’ve been obsessed with her as long as I’ve known you.” Your heart sunk. Isn’t that what Logan had said, the first night you met? Wade was obsessed with you? As quietly as you could, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and backed away down the hall, hoping that their conversation was loud enough to drown out the sound of your retreating footsteps. You’d retreated down the hallway, quickly shooting Wade a text that you weren’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it.

You hadn’t seen them since. You knew it shouldn’t have mattered, but it stung. You’d moved their stool into the far back corner of the shop because as silly as it sounded, it made you sad to look at him. Thankfully, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you busy for a while. But now, you were dead and your thoughts were drifting when the bell on the front door rang. You sent a silent thank you to the universe and rushed out to the front of the store. But the customer waiting for you was the only one you were reluctant to see.

You hated to admit it, but the image of Logan standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped and one of the most regretful looks you’d ever seen on anyone was almost enough for you to forgive him on sight. Close but no cigar, one could say.

“Hey, sweetheart” he said sheepishly, hands shoved into this pockets.

If this is how he was going to play it, so be it. “Hey, Lo. Where’ve you been?”

“Laura needed some help at the mansion, and they roped us into a mission. Meant to call but,” he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Got a bit busy.” You nodded, doing your best to remember that you were mad at him. Stopped by for some flowers, if you have a minute.”

You nodded curtly, shocked that he wasn’t bringing up the obvious tension. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “What kind are you looking for?”

“Eh, whatever you think says ‘Sorry, I fucked up’ the best” he shrugged, making his way behind the counter.

“Who else did you piss off?” You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldn’t bring yourself to make something you weren’t proud of.

“Where’s my seat sweetheart?” He asked, before taking a pause. “What do you mean who else?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“What do you mean ‘where’s my seat’?” You mocked, doing a poor imitation of his gruff voice.

“Okay, you’ve gotta catch me up here, sweetheart because I clearly missed something.”

“Wouldn’t wanna cling on too hard, are you sure you want me to do that?” You snarked, dropping the bouquet on the table and storming over to him, poking your finger into his chest. “I heard the both of you complaining about me last week.”

Logan’s hand wrapped around yours, drawing it closer to his chest. “I was coming in here to apologize for being gone for a week. But I’m happy to double the order to make up for the confusion. If my math is right, bub, you overheard me complaining about that fucking dog insisting on sleeping on my bed. Even after I told Wade to keep her out of my room.”

“You love her.”

“Yeah, you know me too well sweetheart.”

You smiled up at him, soaking in the warmth of having him this close, when something clicks in your head. “Are you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?” If you hadn’t already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal.

He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. “Didn’t want to give the business to someone else.” He shrugged, bashfully.

Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. You leaned your head against his chest, taking measured deep breaths to curve the laughter “I can’t believe this,” you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks. You grinned up at him through the tears, taking in the way his eyes warmed when he smiled.

“Could have been worse,” he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “Could have gone with Wade’s suggestion.”

“I have to know.”

He slipped both his arms around you, pulling you in close. “Wanted me to jump out of a cake.”

You snuggled in close, leaning your head on his chest. “I would like to see it.”

“Then we’ll have to see what we can do about that.”

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starcandybby · 3 months ago

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say don’t go | pjs

now playing: Say Don’t Go (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift

minors DNI - 18+ only

jay x reader, friends with benefits, angst, suggestive

summary: You want more, and Jay doesn't. It's as simple as that. Except, it's not so simple when your heart aches to be with him. When you decide to cut Jay off, he does not take kindly to your actions and a confrontation ensues.

warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive scenes, like they make out two times?!, reader is DOWN BAD, jay has commitment issues, swearing, they have an argument, jay is a dick. typos probably

wc: 3.7k

(a/n: jay’s part is here!! im pretty proud of this not gonna lie heheheh, reblog, likes and comments are always appreciated :p)

You always tell yourself that the last time will be the last time. Everytime Jay undos the undressing from a few hours before, disappointment weighs so heavy on your heart that it convinces you- it can never happen again.

But it always does.

One word, one call from him. And, you’re always saying yes. For some reason, the small flicker of hope in your chest never dies. It convinces you that one day, he will ask you to stay. That he’ll say, “Don’t go.”

You’re never surprised, but always disappointed.

Tonight is no different. Jay calls you up and asks if you can come over. You say, yes. You always do. Before you know it, you’ve left your apartment, enroute to Jay’s home.

All you’ve brought with you is your phone, wallet, keys, and water; adorned on your body is your comfiest clothes. You and Jay are long past trying to impress each other. You never stay the night so the least you can do for yourself is dress comfortably.

You’ve memorized the way to his house, from every time he’s called you over. You’ve never felt like a booty-call, not by the way he treats you after you knock on his front door. And, you never wondered why you don’t indulge each other in your own home. This is always how it’s been.

You climb up the familiar steps and lift your fist to knock on his door. You never hesitate, not once in all your late night rendezvous. Your heart seems to forget all the heartbreak Jay’s caused you and all the disappointment that fills you when you walk out the same door hours later.

The door swings open, and there is your Jay, dressed in perfect domesticity. “Finally, you’re here.” He sighs in relief and gently pulls you into his home. But, not without a peck to your forehead.

“You act like I kept you waiting for hours.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“Well it felt like hours.” Jay shot back, matching your energy.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” you quip. “It smells good in here.” Now that you’ve stepped into Jay’s home, you notice the aroma that fills the air- a mixture of seasonings- garlic and onion you’re sure. You smile to yourself. It’s one of the many things you admire about Jay, his love for cooking. And, he’s good at it. You’ve shared his meals countless times and they never disappoint. Excitement, mixed with hunger, brews in your stomach at the thought of eating some of Jay’s food.

“Thanks doll. Felt like cooking up something before you came over.” Jay replies. Placing a hand on your lower back, he guides you to the kitchen, as if this is your first time at his place. You bet you’ve memorized the steps to his kitchen and bedroom by now.

“What’d you make this time?” You question carries genuine curiosity, as Jay has cooked an array of dishes.

“Lemon pepper chicken with green beans and rice. I’ve been wanting to try this recipe for a while because I’ve never cooked with lemon pepper before and I thought why not…” Jay’s voice trails off. You don’t mean to tune Jay out- it only happened because you’re entirely focused on admiring Jay and how he floats around the kitchen so naturally, tending to the food on the stove. He owns the space; his confidence and naturalness only adds to your desire for him, to have him in every way.

You stop yourself before you spiral into a mood of longingness. You’re determined to not bring down the mood tonight, not until you and Jay have your usual…routine.

Once the food is ready, Jay prepares your plate for you, insisting it will taste better if he does it. Typical Jay, ever the gentleman. You chat through the meal, recapping your day and week, providing updates on your mutual friends, and everything in between. It feels so domestic, and right. It reminds you that you and Jay could have this. Home-cooked meals, the intimacy of sitting at the dining table, getting ready for bed together, and holding each other close when the day comes to a close.

At least, that’s what you imagine life with Jay would be like.

You help him clean the kitchen, dancing around each other in a perfect rhythm.

Once you finish drying the last dish, you turn around, only to find Jay had caged you between himself and the kitchen counter.

“Oh! You scared me.” You giggle, from both surprise and nervousness at Jay’s proximity.

He says nothing, only smirking and capturing your lips in a kiss. It stops time for you- whenever he kisses you, it always feels that way. It’s firm and slow- but that’s how Jay teases you. His patience is unmatched, opposing your urgency. Don’t misunderstand, Jay feels a similar urgency to have you, but he quite enjoys teasing you first.

You respond with such fervor, starting to feel desperate. Jay’s hands move from the counter to the waist and press you into him.

Right before you invite your tongue to tangle with Jay’s, he pulls back for a breath. He leans his forehead against yours and gasps for air. “Let’s move this to my room yeah?” He asks cooly, but you detect a hint of desperation in his voice. It makes you proud to know that he’s as desperate for you as you are for him.

You nod quickly and follow him to his bedroom. You know where the night is headed and the sadness you’ll feel when you leave Jay’s embrace is guaranteed. But, even though you want Jay in every way, only one way is enough for now.

You still feel warm from your high an hour ago. But, Jay always makes you feel that way. Your afterglow remains long after whenever you’re with him. You’re in the perfect position to fall asleep, head on Jay’s chest while his fingers trailing rhythmically up and down your bare back, relaxing you. But, you know you can’t fall asleep. In a few minutes, when Jay feels it’s socially acceptable to kick you out, you will get dressed and leave. You savor these moments while they’re here.

Time passes and you’re still here. Hope blooms in your chest; he’s never let you stay this long. It must be way past midnight at this point, usually you’re home by now. This hope encourages you to open your godforsaken mouth and rehash a conversation with Jay that you’ve had over and over.

A part of you knows that even if you bring up the topic again, nothing will change. But, damnnit, there’s hope!

You sit up and reach for your discarded shirt on the floor. Covering one part of your vulnerability will help unveil another.

Jay gives you a look that questions why you moved from such a comfortable position.

“Hey, Jay.” Your voice shakes ever so slightly, but you’re blaming it on your exertion from before, not on your nervousness.

The boy only hums in response, however it’s encouragement enough for you to continue.

“I was wondering if you thought any more about what I said all those months ago? About us? I just…I want more for us and I think we would be really good together. I really really like you. I want everything- all of it- with youl.” You spit out your words like they’re fire, rambling through your thoughts. You don’t even look Jay in the eye, too embarrassed that you’re clinging to the impossible.

There’s a moment of silence which allows you to bask in your humiliation. Then, a sigh from Jay.

“Do we really have to talk about this again? My answer is the same. I just can’t commit like that right now.” His voice is soft, but firm- as if he knows your fragility but needs to make his words heard.

Your frown deepens, and Jay unfortunately notices.

“Come here,” He pulls you back to him, “You know it’s not because of you, right? I really really like you too. But, I know you deserve more than I can give you right now.”

You nod, despite not understanding. You try to make sense of Jay’s words but they weren’t adding up at all.

You don’t understand- if he really really liked you, why couldn’t he commit? Why wouldn’t he take you out on a proper date? If he liked you, didn’t he want the same things you did?

Him making dinner, being obsessively caring during your intimate moments, and offering the best aftercare, it was all twisting the knife he had dug into your back.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t in your back, because you knew where this was going, or you should’ve known. This was no betrayal. It was all inevitable.

It doesn’t make the pain of him leaving you in the dark bleeding, hurt any less.

It’s time for you to go. You pushed his limits and now tension mixes with the smell of sex in the room. Despite Jay holding you close, you feel so far from him. So, you need to go before you say something stupid.

You sit up and try to muster up your most sheepish smile, trying to not give away any disappointment in Jay’s answer. You’ve shown enough vulnerability for one night.

“I think I’m going to go home for the night- I’ve got, you know, an early morning.” You lie through your teeth. It’s a Saturday night (or early Sunday morning at this point).

Jay nods slowly, as if he knows you’re lying (he does). He follows your movements, sitting up and searching the room for his disregarded clothes.

“I’ll walk you out.”

You only nod in response. Your voice seemed to die along with your hope. You lead yourself and Jay to his front door. Opening it, you turn to bid him goodbye.

You’re almost caught off guard by the look in Jay’s eyes. He looks disappointed- in who, you’re not sure. His eyes hold a hint of sadness too.

He leans forward, but you panic. Thinking on your feet, you go for the awkward side hug. You swear you can almost hear Jay grimace.

“Text me when you get home.”

“Sure, yeah. Goodnight Jay.”

With that, you walk out the door.

By the time you’re home, you have made a major decision.

Well, it feels major to you.

You decide you’re gonna distance yourself from Jay for a while. And this time, you’re serious about it. You need some time away from him. From the home-cooked meals. From the fluid conversation. From the softness.

You need to get your heart in order before you see him again. You predict you will either lose feelings for Jay, and continue your affair, or you’ll learn to live without him.

You’re not looking forward to either outcome, but it needs to happen. You can’t anticipate the same heartbreak every time you see him. The longing, the desperation, the hope. You can’t do it anymore.

Four days have passed since you saw Jay. Not seeing him in person over the week wasn’t out of the ordinary. You both have full-time jobs, so it’s normal to not see him until the weekend.

What was unusual was the lack of communication entirely. You and Jay wouldn’t go a day or two without texting each other, or having a quick phone call.

You were honestly proud of yourself for not contacting him. However, you feel a bit disappointed that he hasn't contacted you at all. You sound hypocritical- the way you want him to simultaneously let you be and pine after you. Feelings are confusing.

The first weekend without Jay is the worst. You take extra measures to avoid Jay- seeing him, confronting him, even thinking about him. Your phone is turned off and placed across the room where you can’t reach. Your best girlfriends come over for a movie night, providing some much needed girl time. By the time they leave, you have completely forgotten where your weekend usually leads you.

So, you busy yourself by cleaning the kitchen from earlier in the evening, disposing of popcorn bags and leftover candies.

For a second, your memory betrays you. You imagine a few months ago when Jay invited you over for a ‘movie’ night. Popcorn and snacks were prepared, but soon forgotten. You two didn’t even make it half through the movie before you were on top of each other. Jay had pulled you onto his lap as you started to make out, each kiss intensifying. Your bodies begin to move against each other on their own and before you know it-

You shake your head from the daydream. Jay does not deserve to take up that kind of space in your mind. You won’t allow him.

You continue to straighten up your apartment, before you retire to your bed. It’s almost like your body doesn’t know what to do with itself when you’re not in Jay’s apartment on a Saturday night. It’s sad, and it’s precisely why you need space from him. Your heart is growing too dependent on him.

Picking up your phone, you see a particular notification(s) that makes your sore heart stutter.

One missed call and four messages from Jay.

Jay <3: I called to see what you’re up to tonight. You can come over if you’re free.

Jay <3: I made kimchi jjigae. I think I finally got the recipe down.

Jay <3: Just realized it’s been a minute since we talked.

Jay <3: Missing you right now.

The last message was sent only 30 minutes ago. You glance at the clock, it’s only 11:30- not even that late. Jay is probably still up, and if you leave your apartment now you could probably make it before-

The better part of you stops yourself before you can impulsively see the one person you’re trying to avoid. That’s Jay though- so addicting it makes you go against your better judgment.

You sigh and turn your phone off. The determination for space is strong, motivated by the ache in your heart.

Jay feels like he’s going crazy. His 7 text messages and two missed calls have gone unanswered by you.

Why the hell were you ignoring him? Were you okay? If Jay hadn’t seen your activity on your socials, he would’ve thought you were dead. He’s not trying to be dramatic, he swears. But, during the months and months that you’ve known each other, you’ve never ghosted him.

Jay racks his brain for the reason you’re ignoring him right now.

It surely can’t be because of your last conversation right? You both have had that talk multiple times and it never resulted in completely ceased communication. So, Jay concludes that’s not it.

What if you met someone new? Surely you would have told Jay about them. And, why would you confess your feelings and then find someone new days later? Were you sick? Depressed? Maybe, you were out of town and forgot to mention.

Jay continues to spiral over throughout the week. He decides that, if by the weekend, you still haven’t responded, he’s going to take matters into his own hands.

You got through a second week without talking to Jay. It gets easier every day you think. Your heart still hurts to ignore his messages and calls- your feelings for him haven’t just disappeared. But, you have to cut him off completely or the heartache you feel will continue to crush you.

The weekend has come again, but this time you find yourself alone in your apartment. You hadn’t realized how much you needed a weekend to yourself. Spending time with yourself is a skill you’re learning to cultivate, especially now that you don’t have a weekend partner to rendezvous with anymore.

That doesn’t mean you don’t think about him. You think about Jay all the time, and it hurts that you won’t get the intimacy of his bedroom, cooking meals, and the domesticity with him anymore. But, it is still easier to cope without that than it was.

You’ve settled in the comfiest spot in your living room, book in hand and lights dimmed. A warm cup of tea close by, you’re looking forward to a peaceful night.

Not even two chapters in your book, you hear a knock at the door. You freeze for a moment, certainly startled as you weren’t expecting anyone tonight.

You don’t move, praying that whoever is at your door will just go away. It’s 10pm for god sake.

A knock echoes through your home again, but this time it’s followed by a voice you know all too well.

“Y/N! Please open the door.” Jay’s voice resonates through your apartment walls and through your heart. You try to keep your cool but your racing heart betrays you. It takes your entire willpower to stop your hands from shaking. You cannot let him see how much his mere presence affects you.

With a deep breath, you open the door and plaster on your most nonchalant expression.

“Oh hey! What’s up?”

Jay huffs and has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Oh good, you’re alive.”

His sarcasm is not lost on you as he pushes his way into your apartment, as if it’s his own. You can count on one hand how many times he’s invaded your space.

“What’s that supposed to-”

“Why haven’t you answered my texts, or called me back?” Jay cuts you off.

Adjusting to the shock of his arrival and looking at the man clearly now, you can see how upset he is. You’ve become an expert on his body language- furrowed eyebrows, tense shoulders, confused and pained look in his eyes- you could see it all.

“I don’t know, I guess I’ve been busy and I don’t know, I just…” You ramblings weren’t helping your case. In fact, you were sure they were only making things worse. You weren’t used to Jay being so straightforward. Usually, you felt like you were always the confrontational one in your dynamic.

“You were busy? Really?” Jay knew you too well to know your bullshit answer when he hears it.

“Yeah, well you know, life gets busy.”

Jay scoffs at your attitude. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t even send me a quick text to let me know what’s going on?”

You shake your head, “It must’ve slipped my mind.”

“This is such bullshit. You can’t just ghost me and then tell me it’s because you’re busy.”

“Actually I can.” You weren’t about to let Jay tell you what you can and can’t do. Especially when he continued to break your heart over the past few months. Though the past two weeks were hard, you believe the distance gave you a backbone of some sort.

“Grow up, I thought you were more mature than this. My god.” Jay snaps.

He didn’t mean to, but god he was so frustrated at the moment. His mind is clouded, failing to allow him to think clearly. Jay had never snapped at you that way before, ever.

This newfound behavior from the man dulled your senses for a moment.

Then, you found yourself growing angry. Angry at him, his hypocrisy, and the entire situation.

“I need to grow up? Seriously? You’re the one who needs to grow up. You’re the one who can’t commit. You’re the one who keeps leading me on.”

Jay’s bewildered expression makes you think your feelings are completely news to him.

“How am I leading you on? I’ve told you over and over again that I don’t want a relationship- I just want to fuck you!”

Jay’s crudeness was an absolute shock to you. Though you’ve never had such a heated confrontation with him before, you never imagined the thoughtful, deliberate man could say such a thing.

His words anger you even more. How could he not see how his actions were saying something completely different? He may have said he didn’t want a relationship, but all the moments he shared with you had you holding your breath just a little longer, waiting for him. You can’t believe you were so naive.

“That’s not fair. You did more than just fuck me. You cooked me dinners; we had movie nights; you text me and call me all the time. That’s the basics to being in a relationship, Jay. It twists the knife to do all those things with you and not be able to be with you.” Your monologue began at a raised voice and, to your dismay, ended with a whimper as you trailed off.

You tried to be strong, determined not to cry in front of Jay. But, the reality of the situation was setting in for you.

“It’s not my fault you took it the wrong way. I was trying to be nice. I would do it for any friend.” Jay snaps.

You try to look at Jay, but your tears cloud your vision. You don’t even know who the man standing in front of you is. How could he be so cruel? Why was he being so defensive? Though your vision was blurry, it became clear to you that Jay’s comments were intended to hurt you. Whether it was spur of the moment or out of rage, it did not matter. It hurts you either way.

“Get out.” Your stern, level voice sounded through your apartment.

“What?”

When Jay decided to confront you tonight, he never once thought it would end with him being kicked out of your apartment.

“Jay. Please leave.” You repeat, much softer than before. One could mistake it for a plea if they listen closely enough.

Jay’s shoulders drop. Gone is the anger in his body language, replaced by a defeated posture. He’s hesitant to leave; he knows you both should hash it out some more. Nothing was solved.

Nevertheless, he heads toward your front door. It’s a wonder he manages to make it through the thick tension in the air.

Jay looks back at you once more before opening your front door and stepping out of it. You don’t meet his gaze- you can’t. You’ll break and ask him to stay, to let him please you one last time. It would be the last time.

You were even holding out hope for Jay to turn around and ask you to let him stay, to not go.

But he didn’t.

There was no resounding knock on your front door. No Jay asking you to open the door. No confessions and pleads to stay. Just silence.

disclaimer: This is purely fiction- nothing in these works reflect real of these people. Additionally, I don't own any of the inspired songs.

#jay x reader #jay imagine #enhypen imagine #enhypen fanfic #enhypen angst #enhypen jay #jongseong x reader #park jongseong #jake x reader #heeseung x reader #jay angst #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x reader

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helpesslywriting · 5 months ago

Text

I can't get over the one sided love of a deity trapped in stone with a newcomer to their land.

Fields of Misteria has a dragon statue that seemes to be romanceable later on named Caldarus. They are immortal and trapped in stone because they have grown weak and their memory fuzzy.

You nurse then back into power by collecting nature essence by doing things around your farm. Cutting grass, tending crops. Cutting trees, clearing rocks etc.

I can't get over this idea of one sided longing or enamorment now. A mostly silent being who watches from afar as you wake up everyday just before the sun comes over the mountains in the distance and begin your work.

Diligently clearing land, planting and lovingly caring for your crops. The strength you built as an adventurer coming in handy with cutting down large trees and smashing large rocks with ease. The gentle way you handle your farm animals and the bonds you build with the community.

The beam of pride you have when you complete a days worth of work. Tired, sweaty, dirty---but happy and content.

They watch you get frustrated when you get tired and you're so close to being done, when your backpack gets too full too soon, watching you take breaks to restore your stamina and how you treat animals, even bugs, with kindness by shooing them away before clearing the next plot of land.

They see the gentle smile of your face as you water and weed your plants and hear you regale the silent stone with stories of your adventuring days. They see you run past into the village with gifts to give and materials to offer, help to aid those that need it.

They feel sad when you sleep in, noting how unusual it is for you to sleep in late and plead for you to take care of yourself and not push so hard. The mines are dangerous and their power is limited.

The find themselves worrying for you. Did you remember to make food? Are you eating a proper diet? Are you remembering to rest? You can be so stubborn sometimes.

They despise being so weak, they wish to speak to you more, to see your eyes light up with new information and to keep you company. To aid you in your self appointed quest of a manageable farm and happy life.

They find themselves excited for dawn, when you come out and stand in front of their statue--coffee in hand while you plan your day, knowing they can't respond but still treating them kindly, gently.

You make sure to scrub them clean when the rain comes to avoid mildew and moss growing on them. It can't be comfortable and somehow you think of it like a virus for them. They're your friend and you want them to be taken care of, since, as a statue it's not like they can clean themselves.

They think you are devoted to kindness to those around you.

And they wish to reward such devotion.

By returning it in kind.

#beauty and the beast #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #fields of mistria #Caldarus #caldarus the dragon #dragon statue #Fields of Mistria Caldarus headcannon #headcannon #one sided love

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millieisawriter · 2 months ago

Text

Workin' girl

arthur morgan x reader

summary: the one where arthur pulls a john — falling in love with a working girl. it was never supposed to happen, yet it did, and now arthur is left with two choices. either he, again, walks away from a woman that loves him, or tries to fight for her.

wc: 2k

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡

a/n: i see this happening in blackwater in case i decide to write a 2nd part, but when i started writing i imagined saint denis, didn't see any town/city names mentioned as i was proof-reading, lmk if you see something i missed <3

Life has never treated you kindly so eventually, as soon as you could leave your family home, you turned to the oldest profession in the world. Even if that kind of life was better, it still wasn't ideal, but it was the best you could do. Eventually, you started to like it because even with its issues and dark sides it wasn't that terrible. Some would even dare saying it was 'easy money', which you actually knew wasn't true.

Luckily for you, you ended up in one of the more expensive brothels. Maybe it was the 'splendor' of the place, the luxurious interior, that made you feel somewhat safe. Safer than you would feel in some cheap saloon where the patrons consisted of drifters with a questionable past.

You had your regular patrons, ones that you got along with well — one of the reasons why they were your regulars. These were the men that could stay a bit longer after the service itself was done without making it awkward. Ones that you could have a conversation with, ones that saw you as another human being, not just an item to relieve their frustration.

It was a normal evening, the building was neither empty nor full. You didn't have that much on your hands, you and a fellow working girl were entertaining a group of men. They sat by a table, a drink in one hand, a cigar in the other, and two of these men had a companion in their lap — you and your friend. Ending the evening in the bedroom wasn't certain, for now you were just trying to make them spend as much money as possible on the drinks.

Then, Arthur walked in. One of your regulars, one you were particularly fond of. The chemistry between the two of you was so strong sometimes you wanted to tell him he didn't have to pay.

His eyes immediately found you, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel jealous seeing you in the man's lap. But you, as if on command, turned to look at Arthur and as you noticed your favorite patron, you excused yourself from the table.

"Mister Callahan," you beamed, approaching the man, "so good to see you again."

He tipped his hat to you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Evenin' darlin', thought I'd stop by again. You been keepin' busy?"

The way he always called you darling, every time, made you feel so warm and bubbly. Of course, he wasn't the first man to do that, but when it came from him, it felt almost sincere.

"Busy enough," you replied, glancing over your shoulder at the table of men you just left, "but I'll always make time for you, mister."

"Well, reckon I'll take you up on that. How bout we find a quiet spot?"

"Your wish is my command." Giggling, you took Arthur by the hand to lead him upstairs where your room was. Even if he already knew the way well enough.

Your room was just like any other room in that brothel — furnished with the most luxurious-looking furniture, tastefully decorated with expensive ornaments, every little detail taken care of.

As the door to your room clicked shut behind you, the world outside seemed to fade miles away. In that moment right there it were just the two of you, bathed in the dim light by the fireplace's glow.

Arthur's hat found its usual place on the small table by the door and he turned to face you, "I can never stay away for too long." Shortly, his hands landed on your waist, resting on the corset of your dress.

"Then maybe you should visit more often..." You suggested, your own hands finding their way to the man's shoulders.

"I'm afraid it ain't a good idea, darlin'. I always look forward to seein' you. But sayin' goodbye..."

"I get what you mean," you chuckled, "so what's it gonna be today? Just the regular service, or you want something extra? It'll be on the house."

Every time Arthur visited you, it was both blissfull and painful for him. You were so good at what you were doing it felt like a religious experience, but the attachment he held for you left a hole in his heart each time he had to say goodbye.

He had always wished he could just ask you to leave this life, and join the gang, but which woman would agree for this? Your current life, your current job, as oppressing as it was, couldn't be worse than living on the run. In Arthur's eyes at least.

In the brothel you had your own room, a wardrobe with many dresses. You had a somehow stable income, it didn't seem as if money were any issue to you. All this, compared to what you could have in the camp, was much worse. And you didn't even know his real last name, there was no reason for you to leave this life you had for a criminal.

Why did Arthur even fall for a working girl? The exact same thing happened to John, which Arthur would often make fun of him for. Maybe life just decided to pull a joke on Arthur now. But he just couldn't control himself, from the first time he saw you, you were different. With other women it didn't take long to notice they're just playing a role, but you... from the first time you even smiled at Arthur, he was drawn to how genuine it looked. And now, you had become not just a pretty face to entertain him, but someone he felt at ease with.

This time, as many times before, Arthur didn't hurry to get dressed and leave the room, return back to camp after getting what he wanted. Instead, he stayed under the covers in your bed, smoking a cigarette as you kept going on about something that happened a few days ago.

He didn't mind, he could let you yap his ears off, your voice was such a calming sound. It was almost hard to believe you weren't just a hallucination he made up. How could such an ethereal being just lay there, next to him, head propped on your palm as you lay on your stomach, talking about whatever nonsense? How could this happen to a man like Arthur Morgan?

"...so then," you paused to take the cigarette from Arthur, take one puff and hand it right back, "you'd think a man like him would have some sense, right? Well, no, he was so damn thick in the head, she just told the guard to throw him out!"

Arthur chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Bet he didn't see that comin'. I'm glad I ain't made it onto your list of thick-headed fools yet."

"Yet!" You playfully reminded him. "You seem to have more sense than others, although I can't say I'm some weak little girl. I don't even need a guard, but the madam insists it's for safety."

A thought lingered in the back of Arthur's mind. It was weird, in a sense, to know there's a guard right outside your door whenever you had a man up there. Even right then.

"I don't doubt you could handle yourself, darlin'," Arthur smirked, taking one last drag from his cigarette, "but it don't hurt havin' someone lookin' out for you."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "Guess you're right, mister."

Arthur stubbed out the ciragette into the ashtray that stood on the bedside table, knowing what it meant. His time was up, he extended the time of his visit as long as he could. Now that his usual cigarette was finished, it was the time for him to go.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. You watched as he reached for his clothes that had been thrown onto the floor, and for the first time a single tear started to burn the corner of your eye.

With his jeans already on, and his shirt for now unbuttoned, he reached to the pocket, retrieving the usual payment. You wiped the tear away as it escaped your eye. It was always the same routine, but it didn't make it any easier to watch him go.

"Here it is." He said almost robotically, placing the money next to the ashtray, throwing in a little tip.

You looked at the money with sadness in your gaze, then your eyes shifted to look at the man. "You know, you shouldn't have to pay, because you don't make it feel like work."

There they were, the words Arthur was so afraid to hear. Him having a more romantic kind of attachment to you was one thing. However, knowing that you reciprocated the feeling, made it more difficult.

"Good," he nodded, "cause you don't make me feel like the bastard I am," as he buttoned up his shirt.

You sat up on the bed, pulling the sheets harder around you, since you were still naked. "Arthur..." You sighed, the rest of the sentence dying in your throat.

The fact that for the first time you had used his actual name instead of calling him mister as always, made it only more difficult.

"No, darlin', don't."

"You know you don't have to leave, right?"

Oh, he had to leave. If he overstayed his welcome too much, the guard at your door would become highly suspicious. And that would only cause issues for you.

"I have to, don't wanna make it harder." Arthur replied.

"Harder for who? I know a man's nature well enough, and I can tell there's something more in the— the way you fuck me, Arthur."

He thought maybe playing dumb would help him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you were to ask me to... to abandon this life for you... I would."

Arthur gulped. It was just what he wished for, but what he couldn't allow to happen. "I've got nothin' to give you. I live on the run, it ain't somethin' you wanna be a part of, trust me."

"You think I'd rather keep fucking strangers to survive, than travel the world with a man I lo—"

"You don't." Arthur interrupted you. "You don't know what you're talkin' bout." Love was a word of huge weight, there was no way it was what you felt for him.

You insisted. "I know what I feel, and I know what you feel, I see it in your eyes, I feel it when you're in my bed, Arthur. I wanna leave this life for you."

"It ain't gonna be no escape, though, just another kind of trap. You deserve better than fuckin' strangers to get by, but you also deserve better than runnin' and not knowin' which day will be your last."

"I don't want better!" At that point you didn't care if the guard outside will hear. "I want you, Arthur!"

"I want you too, darlin'," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly, "but... you're safer here. I can't sentence you to a life of eternal wanderin'."

His words had a final tone, but as well as you could read his eyes, you could tell he regrets saying what he had just said. You could have had a roof over your head, and locks in your door, but it wasn't safety. It was survival.

You stepped closer, reaching out to grab Arthur's hand. You knew he didn't want to leave, you were sure he wants you just like you wanted him. "Arthur..."

His heart ached when he saw the way your beautiful eyes looked at him, but still he decided to kiss you. It only made it worse, making another cut in Arthur's already damaged heart.

"I gotta go." He stated, freeing his hand from yours.

"No." You refused as if you had any say in that matter. You could demand he takes you with him now, wherever he's headed, but what would it do?

"I can't make promises," he continued, putting his boots and jacket on, then his hat, "but I'll figure somethin' out."

You stayed silent, watching him leave the room, not knowing if he's going to keep his word. All you had now was the money, that you didn't even want from him, and the promise that could have been empty.

#rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2

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sommerbueckers · 5 months ago

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HEAR ME OUTTTT what about reader’s being insanely smart and a “good girl” while P being a campus player and party-girl so once they get to know each other at one party because reader was dragged there by her friends and after that P won’t leave her alone and eventually catch feelings 🤭🤭🤭 (you can add smut if u wantttt)

𝐏𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧

___________________________________________________________

✰ ❝𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐩, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧❞

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

✰ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

___________________________________________________________

IT WAS BY FAR the wildest party you had ever been to. Granted, you didn't have much to compare it to, but you were sure this was no regular college party. You had been clinging to the corner all night, the same drink that had been handed to you when you first got here remained full as you carried it around.

Your friends had left your side hours ago and you hadn't seen them since, the only sign that they were still here were the locations of their phones on Life360. If it hadn't been for their promise to take turns helping you study for the next few days, you wouldn't have even agreed to come out tonight. But you had never been one to turn down study help.

You weaved your way through the crowd of people, cringing as their sweaty bodies brushed against yours. At last, you reached the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief when you found it to be mildly empty. You set your drink down behind you on the counter and pulled out your phone in an attempt to distract yourself. Due to it being the only thing standing between you and an unwanted encounter with a drunken college student, most of its battery had already been drained.

"Nice shirt," a voice came from in front of you.

Standing at the island pouring herself a drink was Paige Bueckers, clad in black cargos and a black crop top.

"Thanks," you smiled kindly, glancing down at your t-shirt. It was a science joke, distance raptor over time raptor equaled velociraptor. It was your only clean shirt.

Paige nodded, smirking to herself and holding back her laughter. It was then that it clicked for you, she wasn't complimenting your shirt out of the kindness of her heart. There was no kindness in her heart, if she even had one. Her reputation on campus, the one that didn't have to do with her being a monster on the court, had never sat right with you. The way she treated girls was nothing short of disgusting.

"You were being sarcastic..." you nodded in embarrassed realization, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Paige shook her head, "No, no it..." she trailed off, twisting on the cap to the bottle of vodka and turning to you, "it's an interesting shirt for a party that's all."

You nodded again, "It was the only clean one I had, I don't usually wear stuff like this."

"Hm," she hummed to herself, "what's your name?"

"Chloe."

Paige took a step toward you, but it was only to get out of the way of the guys that were clawing at the bottle of vodka behind her, not because she found you intriguing.

"I'm Paige," she said.

"I know." Everyone knows.

She raised her eyebrows, face feigning surprise. "You know huh?" she leaned against the counter on the other side of the corner. "How do you know?"

"If you think i'm gonna sit here and boost your ego, you can think again," you sassed, your brows heavenward.

Her eye creased as she laughed, "Alright, alright, I quit."

As the conversation shifted to a more awkward silence, Paige shifted uncomfortably, trying to find common ground. You adjusting your shirt, looked down at your hands, suddenly aware of the vast differences between your worlds. The room seemed to shrink around you, the hum of the party fading into the background. Paige cleared her throat, feeling the weight of the silence.

Paige watched you with a curious intensity as she took a sip of her drink, the party’s noise swirling around you. "You here with your boyfriend or...?" she asked, her eyes locked on yours.

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and flattery coloring your cheeks. "My boyfriend?" you snorted, a laugh escaping your lips despite the awkwardness. The thought of Paige assuming you were attractive enough to have a boyfriend was flattering, but then a nagging suspicion crept in that maybe the blonde was being sarcastic again. Your cheeks reddened as you said, "Very funny."

Paige’s expression remained unreadable, her gaze steady. "I take that as a no?" Her voice was clear and sincere, devoid of any trace of amusement. It was evident she genuinely wanted to know.

You shifted in your place suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, no boyfriend," you admitted, the weight of the conversation shifting from lighthearted to more personal. "Just me."

Paige’s soft eyes faltered slightly, giving way to a hint of something else. "Got it," she said, taking another sip of her drink. "So, who're you here with then?"

"Couple friends of mine, this is more their scene than mine," you turned slightly to grab your red solo cup off the counter and take a sip. You cringed at the taste.

"I figured, shirt gave you away," Paige smirked.

"Don't underestimate me, I can throw down when I need to," you pointed at her, a large smile plastered on your face.

"Oh yeah? I'll have to see that."

The two of you broke out into a fit of laughter, Paige's drink sloshing around in her cup and spilling out onto the floor. This made you laugh a little harder, covering your mouth.

"But seriously," she spoke when you both had finally calmed down, "you gotta show me the party animal in you."

"Mhm, next party I gotchu."

You knew there wouldn't be a next time, but it seemd like the right thing to say at the moment. For all you knew, Paige wouldn't even remember this conversation tomorrow.

"Why wait?" Paige's eyes lit up with a challenge. She glanced around the room and spotted a group of people gathered around a table set up for beer pong. "Let's do it now. You and me, beer pong."

You felt yourself unable to protest as she pulled you toward the table. You had never played in a real life game before, your only experience being GamePigeon's cup pong. You weren't sure how well you'd fare. But there was something about the moment, about Paige's soothing voice and reassuring smile, that made you want to go along with it.

The table was lined with red cups filled with beer, set up in a triangle formation on each end. A couple of people cheered as you both approached, ready for a new game. Paige grabbed a ping pong ball and handed it to you with a smirk. "You first. Show me what you've got."

You took a deep breath and focused, aiming for the cup at the center of the triangle. The ball arced through the air, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow down. It landed with a satisfying plop into the cup. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Paige gave you a playful shove. "Not bad for a wallflower, let's see if you can keep up."

Paige grabbed a ball and took her shot, her aim precise. The ball bounced off the rim of a cup and landed in another, earning her a round of applause. She turned to you with a triumphant grin. "Your turn."

The game continued, the two of you trading shots and banter. The tense attitude you had started with faded away with each laugh, each missed shot, each triumphant score. At some point, Paige leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear. "You're doin' so good," she whispered, her voice low and teasing. "Maybe you really can throw down."

You smiled, feeling prideful and relieved at the same time. For once, it felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. The game continued, but the outcome didn't really matter. What mattered was the moment—the laughter, the soft brushing of Paige's arm against your waist, how she would compliment you every time she felt you were doing good.

When the game was over, the guys on the other side insisted on playing another round, thirsty to redeem themselves. The overwhelming feeling of not wanting to disappoint the blonde washed over you, this must've been how all the other girls had felt when the time came to get down and dirty with her. There was something about her that made you crave her approval.

HALFWAY THROUGH THE SECOND round you had started to notice the alcohol taking effect. The precision of your aim quickly plummeted, and before you knew it, you were launching balls straight at the wall. When it was over, you threw your hands in celebration even though you had lost. Paige doubled over in laughter, grabbing her stomach when it began to hurt.

You drunkenly stumbled out of the dining room, knocking into a few people, the contents of their drinks spilling onto your shirt. Paige was at your side in an instant, her arm slithering around your waist to keep you upright. It was clearly time for you to be heading home, you were significantly more drunk than Paige despite having roughly around the same amount of alcohol consumption -- if not less.

"C'mon lightweight," she snickered, "let's get you outta here."

Paige didn't know where you lived, but that wasn't something she had thought about until she reached the front lawn of the house. She stood there, stumped and unsure of where to go from there. She looked down at you, noticing the way you were leaning your head against her chest, and she made the split second decision to take you back to her place.

PAIGE WAS TAKING REMARKABLE care of you. Upon arriving back at her apartment, she had given you a cold glass of water, t-shirt of hers to wear, and even helped you wash your face. You were now laid up in her bed, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed look in your eye. Paige reappeared from the bathroom ruffling her wet hair with a towel. She had changed into a pair of basketball shorts and an old shirt, now making her way over to you.

"Hi," you giggled, feet coming up to rest on her chest as you wiggled in your place.

"Hi," she smiled softly, tilting her head at the unexpected contact. She wrapped her hand around your ankle, but didn't move your leg. "You tired?" she asked.

"No," you bit your lip, gradually moving your foot down her body. The alcohol was giving you a new sense of confidence, one that you seemed to be using to your advantage. You reached the waistband of Paige's shorts, anticipating her act of putting a stop to your antics. She did, her grip tightening on your foot.

"You're wasted," she shook her head, smiling brightly.

You mirrored her smile, stretching your arms out above your head. "Hmm," you hummed in satisfaction, "I fear...you're not wrong."

Paige's eyes trailed down to your underwear, cheeky styled gray panties with lime green lacing around the edges. Slowly but surely, her fingers made their way up your leg, softly grazing over your shin...and your knee...before reaching the soft skin of your thigh.

You felt a shiver run through you at her touch, the sensation heightened by the alcohol. Paige's gaze was steady, her touch light but purposeful. The contrast between her casual demeanor and the tenderness of her touch was striking, and you found yourself caught between exhaustion and a growing sense of desire.

Paige shifted her position, her fingers now tracing patterns on your thigh. "You know if you're gonna be stayin' here, I want you to be comfortable..."

"Yeah," you agreed in a whisper.

She moved your leg aside, climbing on top of you with her arms on either side of your head.

"I want you to feel welcome and cared for. So you just tell me what to do, and i'll do that for you."

Your arms wrapped around her neck, not fully understanding how the two of you had gotten here, but also not complaining either.

The truth was, Paige had wanted to kiss you all night. Ever since she had caught sight of you standing alone in the kitchen wearing a dinosaur science t-shirt, eyes glued to your phone as you carried around an untouched cup of...whatever.

When she had approached you, her initial intention had been to tease you, to break the ice with a comment that would get a reaction out of you. But as the night went on, she found herself drawn to you more than she had predicted. The more you laughed and interacted, the more she felt a magnetic pull. Each time your eyes met, she saw a spark of something genuine and kind in you that was hard to ignore.

She didn't just want this to be another hookup that got swept away in the morning wind, she wanted to know every part of you.

She crashed her lips into yours. The kiss was fiery and urgent, filled with the passion that had been building all night. It was as if time had stopped, and for those precious seconds, nothing else mattered. Paige’s hand pulled your shirt up, inching closer to your chest. She pulled away, resting up on her knees as she straddled you.

She grabbed hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head before reconnecting your lips. She kissed you harder this time, fingers clawing at your side and making you squirm beneath her. Her lips traveled down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses up until she reached the collar of her shirt. Although you had just put it on, you put up no fight as Paige took it back off.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of your bare body, nipples hard and presented to her like two pieces of candy. She swirled her tongue around one before taking it into her mouth, kneading the other with her hand. Soft moans fell from your lips, and it was all the motivation Paige needed as she moved to your other nipple.

Your back arched off of the bed, chasing the feeling of Paige's mouth around your sensitive bud.

She moved her attention lower, fingers ghosting over your clit. You shuddered, a response Paige took pride in. She ran her fingers up and down, the light gray of your panties darkening as they soaked in your slick.

"Stop teasing me..." you pleaded, staring down at her.

"Hmm but look how wet you are..." she murmured, "I think you like it."

She pressed her thumb to your clit, rubbing in maddeningly slow circles. You could feel the arousal seeping out of you, had it not been for the fabric of your underwear, you were sure it would've made a mess on her sheets.

"How 'bout we take these off..."

"Yes," you nodded eagerly.

Hooking her fingertips on the edge of your panties, she pulled them down your legs and dropped them to the floor.

She spread your lips apart, licking her lips at the way your pussy shined in front of her like a lost treasure. She licked her lips, blowing softly onto it. The cold air was a stark contrast to the heat you were feeling, and a whimper slipped past your lips and filled the room. It was like music to the blonde's ears.

She pressed a kiss to your core, her lips covered in your juices as she parted them to kitten-lick your cunt.

"Need more," you begged.

"What do you want Chloe?"

"Want your fingers."

She ghosted over the entrance of your hole, taunting you as she slipped the tip of her fingers in and took them back out.

"Stop..."

She laughed, finally giving in. She inserted two fingers inside of you, reveling in the way you immediately clenched around her. It was humbling that Paige could feel how wet you were, but hearing it was enough to make you want to sink into a hole and never come out.

You could already feel your release building inside of you, and Paige's fingers curled around inside of you to bring you closer. She swirled her tongue around your clip, flattening it out as she intensified the movements of her fingers.

"Paige," you called out, voice weak.

"Hmm," she hummed against your pussy, your back arched further.

"Ah, Paige!" you said more firmly, hand moving to tangle in her hair. You moved your hips against her, "Gonna come."

It was then that the pleasure ceased. Paige had taken her fingers out of you, removed her tongue from your swollen clit. She was unbuttoning her cargos, hastily pulling them down along with her boxers. You leaned up on your elbows, frowning at her.

She tossed her bottoms to the side, her shirt and bra soon went soon after. She roughly spread your legs wider, climbing on top of you and lining up her pussy with yours. The second they made contact, your head fell back onto the bed.

She held your thigh up to her chest, her hips moving powerfully with yours.

"Fuck," she groaned, her darkened gaze locking onto yours.

"Just like that, just like that," you mumbled, "gonna make me come so hard."

The bed creaked and cracked, the headboard faintly banging against the wall behind it. Your hands grabbed onto your tits, pulling at your nipples as Paige watched hungrily.

Your body shook as you came, your yells filling the room and clouding Paige's mind. She didn't stop, she still had to come. She continued to move against your overstimulated core, your hand coming up to grab her bicep.

"Shit!" you moaned, your brows knitted together. Your whines and whimpers kept her going until she finally came, her movements slowing before they came to a stop.

Her weary body collapsed onto yours, face buried in your neck as you both came down from your highs. She panted in your ear, the sound almost enough to make you want another round.

"Fuck that was good..." you finally said through a laugh.

Paige laughed as well, lifting her head to place a soft kiss on your lips, "I know."

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#paige bueckers #wlw post #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #sommer bueckers #gay as fuck #paige buckets #party #lesbian #request #requests open #smut

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violestars · 7 months ago

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𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Sunday x male reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: childhood friends to best friends to nothing au, where rejecting your confession is worth more than the pain of infecting your perfect image with his sinful existence.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: not proof read, !!only male readers!!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: yandere-ish?,maybe ooc, mention of religion, implied homophobia, angst no comfort, just depressing.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: part 1, part 2

Your childhood friend is a rather confusing fellow, to the point where one would think his significant other, if he ever has one, is the type to do riddles for fun. You also love riddles but moreover, you love him. Can anyone blame you? You were consumed by these feelings in your undeveloped mind. Seven was the age you fell for Sunday, for the charming boy that is your childhood friend. Maybe it was just some puppy love between two foolish kids but no one can explain the bubbling excitement in your stomach whenever a barely visible pout was drawn on his face, whenever he uses sugar coated words to kindly ask others to leave you two alone or how his clinginess to you was shown so slyly. You were an equal to Sunday and it has left a sweet taste on your tongue till this day.

As you grow older, your mind started to question this fondness for him. You were taught love doesn't need any explanation but you aren't dumb, there are always reasons behind everything. Even the unknown comfort, warmness one could find in another is also a reason. You knew that because you have experienced it with Sunday but that wasn't your concern, for now at least. Deep down you knew this love for the other male wasn't merely a mystery, your relationship did not belong in those cheap romcoms you two would binge on a sunday night. Was it more evident on the day you went crying to him about your religious mother? Was it because of the warm hands that traced your cheeks, causing you to lean into such softness as he teased you with a coo? How you wished he could repeat his supposedly sin against his perfectionist family's belief was the attraction to the same gender, how the boyish smirk once he admitted how good rebellion feels.

School isn't your strongest suit and you beat yourself up for that, it also didn't help knowing your insecurity enabled the hatred from others. From family to friends, even strangers, their greatest gift to you was just pitiful stares. Sunday was different though, the soft smile that never fails to comfort you, the warm embrace of the only friend you can lean on, he was truly a breath of fresh air throughout suffocating days of school. The only subject you were good at is literature but the skills you've gained failed to form a clear answer to why your best friend has never doubted you. Asking him yourself only made the progress more complicated for both your mind and heart, as he flicked your head and told you about how much he worried more about your efforts than some silly printed texts.

“Your mind is built from poetry, not numbers, my little train-wreck.” You remembered his soothing voice right beside your ear, ignoring his ways with words and how it shaded your tear-stained canvas a light red, you let out a weak chuckle to lighten the mood.

“And yours is built of riddles. I'm not stable enough to solve one right now, Sun.” Your lighthearted response only brought him to laughter, a smile now placed onto your face as you silently hoped he would drop whatever sentimental words he just thought of since it was already as awkward as it could be. Who in their right mind would ask their best friend to climb through the bedroom window just because regrets were hitting too hard at 3 am? The guy has a controlling family for god's sake.

“You let people treat you so poorly just because of a subject, or it is everything about you throws them off. Why, though? You might think you're weird but I feel like you're just performing. A spectacular show that doesn't meet its audience, so desperately wants to be heard.”

As you thought you couldn’t drown yourself in thoughts of him further, this only deepened it. How you wondered if he actually has a third eye, silently guilding your thoughts to their respective docks. In your mind, he is the epitome of elegance, sometimes you wonder if the word is made specifically for him. Sunday is just perfect, while in one way he was expected to be due to being the adopted son of such a high status family, you felt like he doesn't even have to try. He handled stressful situations with ease, he joked it's you who taught him so with your antics. You two are the polar opposite, yet it felt like two puzzle pieces finding each other, different notes that falls in tune. You wondered how he tolerated everything throughout the years, not that you were complaining, it was just your anxiety often questions the authenticity of this friendship but as his hand cradled your face, the usual smile reserved for only you entered the view, you knew the dreams about him were real because Sunday adores you.

Unfortunately, your dreams crashed. You mentally cursed him for ruining everything, but it was not his fault he couldn't reciprocate those feelings, it was not his fault he is destined for greatness and you are the loser that existed. You knew you were being petty but it hurt how everything turned out to be a cacophony in disguise, how you two favored the full moon that night like the way you favored each other. Well, the way you favored him. Sunday wouldn't know all these shameful thoughts, you only nodded at his kind refusal with choked breaths after all. His frown only deepened once he noticed how tears sharp as the finest blade threatened to fall from your eyes and slice through his heart, but he didn't say anything. It hurts that your feelings were treated like a slipped word, a dumb accident, by both you and mostly him.

He knew you're worried, he was trained to be attentive to every change to his surroundings yet here he was, hands in a tight grip like how his thoughts were tied together in a messy knot. Sunday has been avoiding you, not right after the night of your confession though, he wasn't that cruel but he was evil enough to do it after reassuring you, hoping you would not throw away such unshakable friendship. Reason was, Sunday didn't know why he couldn't accept your love, he should have trust in every card he played, that was what they taught him.

It just tasted bitter. He isn't a saint, he hoped you also knew that, his mouth is filled with lies and his existence needs to be soaked in soap. In other words, Sunday is a freak of nature. Him and his sister were adopted to a rich family after the passing of their parents. Sadly enough, he still felt like nobody's son, his every step reminds him of walking on fragile ice under the threatening gaze of his so-called guardians but he still walks anyways. His sister, Robin, has her own dreams to fulfill and no one will dared to rewritte her role into another plaything for the Gods. That's why Sunday will carry all the burdens, the responsibility that will never be put onto Robin's freely spread wings and he works hard to keep it that way.

Sunday lived in this facade that is made of others' desires, he was a trapped bird that pretends to be an eagle, he felt like the strongest piece but never the mastermind. Unlike him, his darling was the salvation humanity carved for all their miserable life, you were the living proof that the lord heard his songs. You slowly metamorphosed into his only God though, Sunday believed his schemes were always concealed because he worshiped you. Sunday believed you didn't exist because he was only worthy of your afterimage. You were and are his 'father', his entire universe. He shamefully found himself praying to your name against the family's knowledge, images of your beauty embroidered in his mind rather than any flight of fancy.

But how Sunday loathed himself, how pitiful is he if everyone were starting to lead their own life yet he was still following a script, how unfortunate is he if the boy of his dreams felt like the vast sky from his cage. Why does one feel deep disgust within but still mindlessly follows the same path? He wanted to fly upward, to feel your touch but the sky is unreachable and so is you. Sunday knows his love for you like the back of his hand, it's more than the platonic feeling towards his sister and the ambition towards a perfect future, it's the only thing the family didn't plant into his mind at such a young age. His love for you felt like the only thing he could freely express.

You knew he wished to live in a dreamscape, where he would generate happiness for the unfortunates but you don't know this dreamland of his sprouted from the purest of love for you. Those troublesome worries won't reach you there, he swore upon his life that he would shield you away from this brutal world in your new home. You only laughed at his silly delusion though, you never wanted to live in a lie and he knew that clearly. Sunday envied that part of you, he detested how strong you are despite all attempts to drag you down but maybe that's what confirmed his feelings towards you.

You were able to confuse Sunday in the best way possible. You could sob about how ugly you are, complain about your failure of a life and hatred for reality but in the end, you didn't mean it. You wanted to live for the imperfect tomorrow, you wanted to erode a stone that is your destiny with him, with Sunday. Yes, that's what you are. So imperfectly beautiful as he's perfectly fake. That's why he would push you away, as unreasonable as his actions were, he will not taint your future and dirty your determination, this kaleidoscoping pain shall never reach your ears. Sunday doesn't want anyone to find out you're his weakness, he doesn't want to acknowledge you're the sweet reality to his pained dream. He was happily in your shadow even if he could catch a glimpse of your performance.

Sunday loves you so he will let you go.

#male reader #x male reader #honkai star rail #sunday hsr #sunday honkai star rail #sunday x male reader #sunday x reader #angst #hurt/no comfort #yandere male #yandere male x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #gay #yaoi bl #violewritas

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willowsnook · 2 months ago

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When Love is Left Unspoken pt. 2 (MV)

max verstappen x reader

pt. 1 here

I could be talked into a pt. 3 if people want it

It had been a week since the Austin GP and forgetting about what happened had been impossible mostly because Max would not leave you alone.

He didn't reach out directly, but every morning this week, you had woken up to a new gift outside your door. Flowers, chocolate, coffee, pastries, clothing, etc. You had no idea how he even knew your address.

You struggled with what to do. On one hand, you had missed your best friend for a long time. You missed the inside jokes, the comfort you found in him, and supporting one another. But on the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about how he threw it all away because he was scared of loving you. You had never been scared of loving him, even if you never said. Well maybe that was hypocritical.

Saturday morning an envelope accompanied the box outside of your door. You opened the box first, revealing a vintage RedBull racing bomber jacket that cost who knows how much. It was cute, you'd give it that. Opening the envelope you froze as you read the letter that sat next to a paddock pass for the Brazil GP.

I know you hate me and you have a good reason to but I will do anything to have you back by my side even if you refuse to look at me. Please come to Brazil, I know it's your favorite track. You can stay on Checo's side of the garage if it makes you feel better.

Love, Your Max

Brazil was your favorite track and in the past you had always travelled down early to experience the culture for a bit before the racing started.

You facetimed Carmen, hoping to talk this through with someone else.

"Hey girl, what's up?" She asked, clearly in the middle of a workout.

"Oh, I can call later if you're busy," you said and she shook her head.

"No, it's okay!"

"Max invited me to the Brazilian GP," you told her slowly and her eyes widened.

"Wow."

"I know, I don't know what to do."

Carmen was silent for a little bit, clearly thinking. "Is there any part of you that wants to make up with him?"

"Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I hate myself for even thinking that. I don't want to just forget about everything that happened and take him back with open arms."

"I don't think you necessarily have to forget what happened but maybe focus on the people you both have grown to be in these last few years. Maybe treat it like you are starting over."

"So you think I should go?"

"Selfishly yes of course," she said grinning and you couldn't help but smile back. "You don't even have to spend time with him. Just see how it feels to be around him."

After hanging up with Carmen, you texted the number Max had given you for his assistant in order to get flights and a hotel figured out.

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

You landed in Brazil on media day and didn't plan on going to the track until Saturday. Max was pulling out all the stops even when he couldn't see you as evidenced by the ridiculously nice hotel he put you in. The view was amazing and laying on the bed was a variety of your favorite snacks and drinks with a card that read "I'm so glad you're here -your Max."

The 'Your Max' thing was working even though you hated to admit it. You spent the next two days traveling around the city by yourself and then with Carmen.

Saturday rolled around and you found yourself nervous to be at the paddock despite Carmen's constant reassurances. You hadn't seen Max yet and you weren't really sure what to say when you did.

Funny enough, the first person you ran into when you made it to the RedBull garage was Christian Horner.

"Y/n!" He said surprised to see you. "It's been a while, how are you? You know my wife is obsessed with your tik tok channel."

"Ahh tell her I said thank you," you replied kindly. "I've been doing well."

"We're glad to have you back," he said and your heart swelled. "It's been a rough year for him."

"I'm not sure I can change that," you said politely and he gave you a look.

"You just being here might," he commented before leaving you to go talk with the mechanics. You wandered around the garage, catching up with a lot of people you hadn't seen in a long time.

Max spotted you as he was coming out of his drivers' room and his heart stopped. Of course he knew you were in Brazil, but he still wasn't 100% sure you'd show up. He didn't think he should approach you so he just lingered by watching you. You felt him watching you and looked over at him, trying to control your breathing and gave him a small smile.

He smiled back before being called off to get ready for the sprint. Leaning against the back wall you pulled your headphones and settled in to watch. Max was doing pretty good, battling with Charles for most of the race. Your face appeared on the broadcast and you smiled to the camera, giving it a small wave.

After the race you checked your phone to see that you'd been tagged in countless tweets.

@.username12312: Was that y/n y/l/n in the RedBull garage? I thought her and Max had a falling out???

reply to @.usernam12312 @.user345: Yeah they haven't been friends for a long time. It had something to do with Kelly

reply to @.user345 @.username12312: oh yeah, you're right! I always liked y/n better anyways

You were amused reading the speculation and decided to stir the pot further. While Max was doing interviews you found Checo in the garage and asked him to take a picture with you. The confused man agreed and you quickly posted it to your Instagram story with the caption: My favorite RedBull driver, good luck tomorrow!

Carmen and Lily both slid up with laughing emojis and you walked back to Max's side, trying to avoid the rain. It was really coming down now and you weren't sure if they would even be able to go out on the track. You found Max a little while later sitting against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sunk down next to him, holding your knees into your chest.

"Think you'll be able to go out there today?" You asked casually and he looked over at you, clearly excited to hear you speaking to him.

"I would say probably not," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow morning."

"How much longer until we know?"

"Another half hour would be my guess," he said. "I can call for someone to take you back if you want to leave now?"

"No, I'll wait," you said looking down at your phone. You sat in silence for a while and the rain was starting to make you very sleepy. Losing the battle with yourself, you rested your head on Max's shoulder and he stiffened.

Max smiled to himself as you dozed off and the two of you caught the attention of the cameras, the photo soon to be splashed everywhere online. Quali was called off and Max nudged you awake, reaching out to help you up.

"Ride with me back?" He asked hopeful and you nodded. You ran into George and Carmen on the way out and she gave you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes at.

"You guys should come out to dinner with us," George said. "We're meeting up with Alex and Lily too."

You hesitated, not wanting to miss out but at the same time your social battery was dead. You could only handle so much social interaction before you were craving your warm bed to snuggle into. You started to give in and agree but Max cut you off.

"I think y/n is done being around people for the day so I'm going to take her back."

You looked at him surprised and the realization that he still knew you so well just added more fire to the internal turmoil you were facing. Bidding them goodbye, you followed Max out of the paddock and into the car he had rented for the weekend. The car ride was silent as well as the elevator ride up to your floor.

Max followed close behind you as you made your way to your room and it was starting to irritate you.

"You don't need to walk me to my room Max," you said and he looked at your sheepishly.

"I'm in the one right next to you."

"Are you fucking serious?" You asked frustrated. "I need space Max!"

"I just want you to be safe," he defended and you rolled your eyes.

"From what?" You exclaimed. "Oh yeah, your girlfriend I mean ex-girlfriend is from here. Think she's sending people after me?"

"I don't think that's funny," he said, eyes darkening. "Sue me for wanting you close to me. I'm not going to apologize for that."

"You are the worst," you bit out before shoving into your room, slamming the door.

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

Stepping out of the steaming shower and back into the bedroom you glanced worriedly out the window. You wouldn't necessarily say that you had a fear of thunderstorms but they tended to make you uneasy.

Trying to distract yourself you put on South Park, your favorite show to watch in a hotel, but it didn't work. After a couple of booms you were still on edge. Sighing you got up and left your room, hoping a small walk around the hotel would ease your mind. By the time you made it back, Max was leaning against the wall by your door, waiting for you.

"Can't sleep?" He asked and you nodded.

"The storms."

"You always were scared of them," he teased and you scoffed.

"I'm not scared of them!" Right as you said that, a streak of lighting flashed by the hallway's window followed by a loud crash of thunder. You jumped a little and Max smirked.

"Come on," he said gesturing back to his room. You hesitated and he sighed. "We both know you won't fall asleep alone to this."

Giving in, you followed him into his room. It was a carbon copy of yours and you were amused to see South Park playing on his tv. He climbed into his bed but you stopped short; the scene in front of you reminded you of so many times before. When you traveled with him back in the day you'd often find yourself in his room at night hanging out. You always fell asleep and woke up in his arms, neither of you ever saying anything about it.

Max sat up in the bed looking at you, he knew what you were thinking.

"Y/n," he said softly as he watched you wipe a tear from your eye.

"This is so hard Max," you said, voice breaking. "How am I supposed to just forget?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not even like you broke my heart that day," you said meeting his eyes. "You had chipped away at it for so long that there wasn't even anything left to break."

Max's heart dropped and he moved over closer to where you were standing, so that you were now eye level.

"I was so scared back then y/n," he said and you put your head into your hands. "So scared of failing that I did things I shouldn't have done, like pushing you away to protect myself."

"Protect yourself from what?" You said, looking back at him.

"Your unconditional love," he said sadly and you tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.

"You acted like nothing happened, I watched you move on with your life," you accused, whispering to him.

"I did not move on, I was a mess. I couldn't eat or sleep for months and I latched on to you in whatever way I could through your videos or podcast. Every picture or video you saw of me was strictly PR."

"But you never reached out, not once in these past few years," you said, starting to grow angry with him.

"Neither did you!" He exclaimed.

"That's not fair Max," you retorted, moving away from him.

"Isn't it though? You accused me of moving on but I watched you do the same. I watched your popularity grow, watched you start to travel around the world, watched you post with other guys. You didn't need me to be happy."

"I needed my best friend!" You yelled and he flinched. "I needed you to be there to call when I got a new deal! I needed you to be there to lean on when I had self doubt! You ruined everything Max. I could never be truly happy celebrating something because in the back of my mind I was thinking about how you should have been there with me!"

Max squeezed his eyes shut, sitting down on the bed.

"I don't know how to fix this schatje," he whispered and you flinched at the term of endearment. "Everything has been so dark for so long. I am okay with you hating me forever. Because even if you just look at me, it'll be a better day than what I've had."

Sniffling, you stared into his red rimmed eyes. "I want to forget about you so badly Max but I can't."

He smiled softly at you before patting the bed.

"Please sleep here tonight, it will make me feel so much better knowing you were well rested. I'll sleep on the pull out couch," he said standing up.

"Just sleep in the bed with me," you said sighing, wiping the tears from your face before climbing into the bed. Max slid in next to you, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you and you drifted off to sleep.

The sound of his alarm woke you up at 4:30 and you groaned sleepily. Max's arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head buried in your hair as he refused to open his eyes.

"Max, you have to wake up," you said and he mumbled incoherently into you. You pried his hands off your body and stood up, stretching. He watched you lazily from the bed, wondering if this was a dream.

"I'm going to go get ready and then I'll meet you back in the hallway in 30 minutes okay?" You asked him and he nodded. Leaving his room you headed back into yours to get ready for the day. Your eyes were still a little swollen from last night but that was nothing a little makeup couldn't fix.

Pairing the new RedBull jacket with a black jeans you gathered all your stuff before texting Carmen about what had happened last night. All she responded was that we would discuss it in person and sent a winky face.

Max looked more awake standing out in the hallway and you both left for the track.

Qualifying was a mess to put it simply. Crash after crash after crash. It was spiking your anxiety to watch and you were just praying that Max would make it out unscathed. He did make it without crashing, but not without controversy.

You grew furious as you watched everyone in Q2 get to finish their laps following Lance's crash except for Max and Esteban. This made him miss out on Q3 for the first time in forever. You knew he was pissed when he got out of the car and his eyes met yours for a brief second. He talked to his engineers before grabbing your hand to drag you with him to over where he had to do interviews.

Standing behind the reporter you watched him try to contain his anger.

“If a guy goes straight into the wall, it is a straight red,” he said. “I don't understand why you need to take 30, 40 seconds for a red flag to come out...”

His voice was rising as he said it and both you and the reporter braced for the impact of whatever he was going to say next. He started to say something but then looked over at you and stopped himself, taking a deep breath before waving off the question.

“I don’t care in all honesty, it is so stupid to talk about. It’s ridiculous.”

He answered a couple more questions about the race happening later and you waited patiently. Christian came to join you and gave you a knowing look.

"I told you that being here would make things better," he said with a glint in his eyes. "I'm giving you credit for him avoiding more community service."

Things got even better after that with Max winning the Grand Prix in what you could only describe as a complete masterclass.

As the celebrations wrapped up, you and Max found yourselves alone in the quiet of the garage, both still processing the day's whirlwind. He glanced at you, a hesitant warmth in his gaze.

Max reached for your hand, gently holding it, as if afraid you'd slip away again. "I'm glad you came, I've needed you here for a long time."

"I'm still not sure where we stand Max," you said unsure of how to deal with what you were feeling.

"As long as your standing next to me, I'll be okay," he said cheekily and you smiled. You knew that your relationship had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, it was finally starting again.

pt. 3

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen

346 notes · View notes

her-satanic-wiles · 8 months ago

Text

Guess Who?

Papa Emeriti I, II, III & Cardinal Copia x Plus Size!Reader

Game night takes a turn when you end up blindfolded and tied on the table, at the mercy of all of your beloved Papas. The name of the game: figure out who’s touching you. You win: you cum. They win: they use your body however they see fit.

For @da-rulah, because I sent her a scenario that hurt her wittle feewings, and so now I’m facing the consequences of my actions. I hope you enjoy, Bee. ✌🏻😘

Masterlist

Words: 9.2k.

Reading Time: 37 min.

Warnings: aftercare, alluded/implied sex work, anal play, biting, bondage (using a rope), breath play, breeding, bukkake, choking, cream pie, cum eating, cunnilingus, degradation, fellatio, fingering, finger sucking, free use, gang bang, groping, MMFMM, objectification, plus size!reader, PIV sex, praise, premature ejaculation, pussy slapping, rope play, rough sex, running a train, sensory depravation (blindfold), skull fucking, spit-roasting, squirting, tag teaming, talking about you as if you weren’t there, tickle kink (if you squint), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it folks), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @xshadyladyx @x1nd1g0x @likeloversentwined @high-above-the-city @copiaspet622 @sister-of-sin-claudia @foxybouquet @inkstainedrat @ad-astra-per-aspera1976 @ravensbars @ultrahalloweengirl @susulbr @frog-scream @ghulehunknown @namelessghoulindisguise @onlyhereforghost @mercbeans

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Game night was usually a night reserved for only the brothers Emeritus, who usually enjoyed card games with only the three players. Every week without fail, the three men would gather in the wine cellar of the Ministry and play cutthroat games of Uno while drinking bottles of the Ministry’s finest by candlelight. It wasn’t often they’d invite a fourth in, rarely finding a person close enough to all three of them that they’d be able to relax and have fun with. But it wasn’t unheard of. Which is why the decision was unanimous when your name was thrown into the middle.

You were the favourite of all the Papas and the whole Ministry knew it. You were their closest friend and companion, the one who had the most in common with them and compassion for them. The one who made them feel the best both in and out of the bedroom. Yes, okay, the relationship you had with them all was… unique. It wasn’t often in any part of the world that brothers would share a woman and be happy doing so. But if it worked for all of you, you’d hardly say no. There was something so deliciously degrading about being passed around the Ministry’s highest ranking men like a commodity to be shared - as though you were nothing more than an object. It was so delicious because it wasn’t true. Of all the people you’d been with during your time at the Ministry, no one had treated you more kindly, more respectfully, and prioritised your pleasure quite like the Emeritus brothers. And so, almost every evening, you’d find yourself ‘rented’ for the night, and would end up tangled in the sheets with one of the Papas. And every time you needed to perform a ritual, it was always to one of them you’d call.

They’d tried getting you in on game night a few times before, but it just so happened that you were usually busy and had made plans before they’d been able to ask. How popular could one person be?

It turned out you didn’t have so many friends that they all kept you busy, rather you had one friend who took up most of your time away from the three Papas: Cardinal Copia. The Cardinal had inadvertently kept you all to himself mostly because you were his closest friend. Copia was the kind of man to put all his effort into one relationship rather than several, which meant you were the only one of his friends he wanted to spend time with. As that was the case, he had taken up so much of your free time, he made it impossible for the Papas to pin you down and drag you to game night. So, they dragged the bumbling Cardinal to game night, too.

The five of you were hunched round an aged table, the thing losing its integrity from the little upkeep that was done to it over the years. The layers of stain and paint gave it a more plastic feel, and one of the legs was propped up with the King James’ Bible, the book itself dirty from years of shoes resting on it. Clockwise, Primo headed the table, followed by Copia, You, Terzo and ending with Secondo. You only had two cards left, and felt smug at that. The closest person to you was Secondo, who had 3 cards. Everyone else was five cards or, in Copia’s case, much more. The typical banter and shit-talk ensued, you teasing Terzo about how you were going to win, Primo constantly pulling the cheapest moves like adding +2 cards or reversing so that Copia would have to draw more or wouldn’t get to play. Copia promising violent vengeance every time Primo screwed him over, which would earn titters of amusement from Secondo and Terzo.

Finally, Terzo had played his card allowing you to drop your penultimate one on top of his, your red 4 landing on his blue 4, with a cheery “Uno!” falling from your lips, despite Primo and Copia’s conversation that was murmuring in the background.

Secondo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Cardinale!” He called, breaking up the conversation. “It is your turn.”

“___ hasn’t had her turn yet.” Copia protested.

“She just did.”

Primo smirked, a devilish smile on his lips. “Our dear ___ didn’t claim ‘Uno!’. You have to take five cards.”

“I did!” You exclaimed, offended at Papa Primo’s accusations. You told him as such.

“I didn’t hear you.” Copia claimed.

“To be fair, Cardinale, you were talking.” Secondo insisted, fighting your corner.

Terzo sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “There is nothing for it, amore.” He exclaimed. “Two insist you did not say it, two insist you did. Therefore, you must be punished some way, no? Either, take five cards like my fratello told you to do, or…”

“…Or?” You asked impatiently, bracing yourself for Terzo’s ultimatum. You knew it would be a suggestive offer, but you didn’t know exactly what he’d choose.

“Or, you take off that pretty little habit of yours and play the rest of the game in your underwear.”

Secondo jumped in. “___, you don’t have to do either.”

Primo, who secretly hoped you’d choose Terzo’s second option, also chimed in. “Well, you do have to take five cards if you don’t get naked for us.”

“Papa?” Copia asked, eyebrows raised. He clearly wasn’t expecting Primo to go along with it.

“What? You cannot expect an old man to be completely adverse to a beautiful woman stripping herself bare for my enjoyment - provided she consents, of course.”

Terzo, “If anyone objects, speak now or forever hold thy peace.”

Everyone immediately shot subtle glances at Copia, expecting the only man in the room who you’d not fucked yet to object. But, with blushing cheeks, he sat back and much to everyone’s surprise, remained quiet.

You slammed your card on the table and stood from your seat, hands immediately flying to and removing your veil. “This is bullshit.” You said, undoing the buttons at the front of your habit before pulling the whole thing over your head. You were met with sounds of appreciation, whistles, hoots and hollers - most of which came from Terzo who was more than happy to watch you reveal your gorgeous, plump body in order to win the game. You sat back down, breasts and stomach jiggling with the force, thighs splaying out against the chair as you sat. You watched as Secondo was mesmerised by your curves. He said nothing, wanting to keep things with you as respectful as possible, but he loved your body: loved watching it bounce each time he fucked into you, loved laving and sucking on your nipples, biting them just to earn that sound from your throat. It didn’t matter that he was a middle aged man with the total ability to control himself, when it came to you, he was a constant horny mess.

The game continued, Copia had his turn, Primo, Secondo, Terzo, then back to you. Finally, and with much grumbling from the rest of them, you played the final card and won the match. “And I did it all whilst naked.” You bragged. “This is why you never invite me to this nights - you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“We don’t always play Uno, you know.” Primo stated, resting his elbows on the table.

“Doesn’t matter, any game you throw my way I’ll win.” You responded petulantly.

“Oh you think?” Terzo asked, eyebrows raising.

“I know.”

“Prove it.” Secondo sounded from the other side of the table.

“Name the game, Papa.”

“What did you have in mind, fratello?” Questioned Terzo again.

Secondo sat back, his body language oozing confidence with a menacing glint in his eyes. “A game even our friend over there can play if he’s willing.” He gestured to Copia, who swallowed nervously. “We got some rope down here, some cloth. We strip you naked, blindfold you, and touch you however we want. You have to guess who it is. You guess correctly, we make you cum then move to the back of the line. Guess incorrectly, and we get to do what we want to you. You have to guess the majority correctly in order to win, if you don’t, well, we’ll decide what happens to you. Think you could win then?”

“Easy.” You challenged.

“Oh, you think so?”

You stood up. “Copia, you in?”

“I- I…” He stammered, torn between wanting to play but not wanting to ruin your friendship.

“Whatever you choose, I’m happy.”

“I… I’ll play.”

Primo patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“Well then,” you reached round your back and unhooked your bra, throwing the fabric to the stone cold floor and feeling your nipples harden at both your arousal and the change in temperature, “let’s play.” Your panties were the next to go, followed by your shoes and socks, leaving you stood on the wine cellar’s floor naked as the day you were born. With each move you made, your body jiggled slightly, earning more groans of appreciation from the men who remained. Terzo even coming up behind you and pressing himself against you, hands roaming all over your body and grabbing handfuls of you where he could.

“Can’t wait for you to guess incorrectly so I can fuck you dumb, tesoro.” He whispered into your ear before biting it.

“Leave you with blue balls.” You teased.

“We’ll see.” He stepped away from you and gave your ass a slap, watching it wobble with the force. He bit his bottom lip and moaned like he’d just eaten something delicious. “We will see.”

Secondo had gone and returned from getting the rope and cloth he saw, and began to bind you up in it, using the rope to tie your hands behind your back. “Your safe word is ‘bottle’, amore.” He told you placing a chaste but gentle kiss on your shoulder blade. “Does this feel okay?” He asked pulling on the rope.

“It feels fine, Papa.” You replied, feeling heat gather in your core and your breath already labouring.

“You ready for the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

And with that, your vision was blinded, your sense of sight plunged into darkness as Secondo tied the cloth gently behind your head, checking to make sure you were comfortable, before guiding you into position. You were lay against the small table, your head barely supported, with most of it hanging over the edge. You were lay on your back with your legs spread, your hands taking the weight of your back as it arched over the top of them. Your breasts had, for lack of a better term, pancaked as gravity was inistent on pulling them down. But even though Terxo made fun of that term, he loved the way you looked on your back for him. Your cunt was entirely on display with just how wide your spread legs had opened your labia, your wetness already visible to the men who stared at your body hungrily, like animals about to feed for the first time in weeks.

You felt Secondo kiss your thigh once before disappearing to join his brothers. Then, you heard all four of the men, in unison, say, “Carta, forbice, sasso!” Followed by skin slapping on skin.

Those fucking idiots were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to go first. You heard a few grumbles, but couldn’t make out who made what noise.

You heard footsteps.

The sound of a glove sliding against skin. Twice.

Those gloves falling to the floor.

Then you felt it. A thumb running up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before finally rubbing over your clit - tight, little circles designed to drive you mad. Your hips bucked at the touch, a gasp escaping your lips at the surprise touch. His four fingers rested on your mound as an anchor, allowing more precise movements, and for him to put more pressure on your clit. You struggled against the rope, your hands moving out of habit wanting to reach your nipples, to pinch and pull at the buds like you usually did when someone played with your bundle of nerves. But the rope bit at your skin, burning slightly as you fought against it and making you scream out in frustration. “Fuck!” You breathed, body writhing beneath the calloused thumb. You wanted to try an work out who was doing it to you so you could win the game, but your mind went blank the second his thumb touched you.

The teasing was very much a Terzo trait, but the use of his thumb wasn’t. Terzo usually teased using his mouth or his cock. He didn’t have the drive to use one of his hands. Secondo used his hands a lot, loved to plunge them deep inside you and finger you open for him, having you screaming and begging for him to touch your clit. Which is how you knew this wasn’t Secondo. It couldn’t be Primo - he didn’t have the heart to tease. He’d always give you what you asked for in a heartbeat. Which meant it must have either been Terzo or Copia. As you’d never had sex with Copia, you couldn’t be sure what his methods were - and this touch did feel foreign. “Is it… is it Copia?”

You heard laughter from the other side of the room, followed by a “Dammit!” from Copia. “It’s me.” Copia pulled up one of the chairs and situated himself between your legs, getting himself ready for the task of making you cum. You felt his hot breath against your centre, erratic little puffs that hit your wet skin as he breathed through his nervousness. He took his time with you, almost as if he was psyching himself up. Copia had fucked before, and he was good at it. But he’d never fucked you. You could imagine that he was nervous because he wanted you to think he was good. And, if you had use of your hands, you’d tangle them in his brown hair and stroke his head gently, reassuringly. But instead, all you had were your little grunts of desperation to softly urge him on.

His moustache was the next thing you felt, tickling against your folds as his mouth made contact with you. The course hairs ran against your sensitivity as his tongue darted out to lap up the juices that were spilling from you. You could feel your hole clenching around nothing, screaming for something to fill it while Copia toyed with your clit, but he made no move to fill you, instead putting more pressure on you with his tongue as he continued to move up and down your slit, until finally he made permanent contact with your clit.

He tightened his tongue to make the tip more pointed to get a precise lick to your clit, swirling around it with his muscle and causing you to cry out in response, fighting against your restraints. His hot breath kept coming out from his nose, heightening your senses and making you hyper aware of just how much of a mess you were as tit hit the wetness seeping from you and making you feel cold. Your nipples were so hard and needing someone to play with them while Copia continued to drink you down like he was dehydrated.

He alternated between using his tongue only and pressing filthy kisses to your folds, practically making out with your cunt to get you off quicker. You could hear the sound of his lips smacking against your body, in between the broad strokes of his tongue he was providing for you. Tiny grunts would escape his lips as he ate you alive, treating you like the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you held down as much as he could so he could devour you easily. You could feel your high coming faster than you’d anticipated, or even wanted, but he was working you towards that end so fucking well, you were losing your breath and your mind.

“Copia, fuck!” You screeched, breathlessly. Your nails were scratching against the wood of the table, feeling the gross stickiness from the drinks’ condensation underneath your body, but feeling more filthy and used than disgusted. Your brain reminded you that you weren’t alone, that there were three other men watching this go on with just as much pleasure as you. You wondered if they were touching themselves. If they were watching you writhe with pleasure and stroking their cocks at the sight.

Copia’s lips wrapped entirely around your clit, moustache now soaked from your cunt, and he sucked. Hard. That tongue he used so precisely before was now slapping against your clit again, this time much faster than before. Because of this, the surprise change in pace and pressure, your orgasm hit you so violently, every single one of your nerve endings exploded beneath his touch, and set off a chain reaction around the rest of your body. Your muscles tensed, your breath was snatched from your lungs, your eyes (beneath the blindfold) closed even tighter, and your mouth had hung open in a perfect ‘o’, allowing a strangled moan to leave from your tightened throat that had closed in the strain of your orgasm. All the while, Copia refused to let up, keeping the pressure going even when you were trying to kick him away. He didn’t stop until he was sure your orgasm had subsided. He pressed one final kiss to your clit before he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone and spent on the table, recovering from one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Did that feel good, tesoro?” You head Terzo ask from the other side of the room. No one had approached you yet, meaning you couldn’t gauge whether Terzo was next or not.

Your brain was still scrambled, and you were barely able to manage a “uh-huh,” to respond to him, which earned a chuckle from all four of the men in the corner.

When the laughter died down, you heard more footsteps approaching you, stopping this time at the right side of you. You felt the silk of a robe glide over your bear skin, but as all of the Papa’s robes were made from the same material, you could only rule out Copia at that point.

You jumped in surprise at the feeling of four fingers immediately touching your stomach, rubbing two large, soft circles into the skin just to tease you. Those four fingers broke off as his hands went in two separate directions. The first moved upwards, running up over the mound of your breast, stopping to play with your right nipple - pinching and pulling at the bud just as you liked, and had needed for the past however long they’d been playing with you. The second hand moved downwards, mimicking the actions of the first by pinching and pulling, except this time it was on your clit. He wasn’t as rough with your clit as he was your nipple, given that your were still probably sensitive from your orgasm, but the torture was too fun even if you were suffering a little.

Those fingers that were playing with your cunt slipped inside your hole, immediately curving upwards and hitting that sweet spot that had you singing so beautifully for them. You only had the opportunity to cry out once before you felt the hand on your breast reach up to your neck, and squeeze the sides gently. His fingers were rough, working to hit your g-spot over and over again and make you squirm at his touch, and you felt your body shake with the force of it. The way he was using his hands against you, plus the roughness of them and the pit stop at your breasts made you confident enough to make your second guess.

“S-Secondo?”

Your stomach and heart sank when you heard dark laughter coming from the guys in the corner of the room. Secondo’s gruff voice sounded from far away, loudly speaking over the sound of your wetness squelching as the fingers inside you kept up their pace. “Wrong, amore.” He said, all too happily for you to be comfortable.

You smelled wine and sandalwood when the man leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear. “You’re mine now, tesoro.” Terzo claimed, his voice dark and heavily accented. His words were stretched telling you he was smiling as he spoke, unable to form them correctly. He revelled in the deception, removing his hands from your body and bringing his fingers up to your lips. “Open up for me.” He commanded, and once you obeyed, he put his middle and ring fingers covered in your cunt juices into your mouth. “Clean yourself up. Suck on them like you do my cock.”

You took those fingers into your mouth beautifully, putting on a show for him in hopes that he’d go easy on your body when he took what he wanted from you. A gutteral groan sounded from his mouth as he watched your lips stretch around his thick fingers, tongue grazing along the underside as you cleaned yourself from his digits. You bobbed your head fluidly, like you usually did when you took him in your throat, moaning around him and rubbing your thighs together. He always liked to know he had an affect on you - maybe appeasing his ego would help you out.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you heard him walk to your feet. His hands pried themselves in between your thighs to show your cunt to him like a piece of meat being inspected by a customer. You waited with baited breath as he decided what to do with you, no doubt in your mind that he was staring at your wetness with that glint in his eyes: the one that shows his excitement but could be mistaken for sadism if you didn’t know him. Or maybe they were the same thing. You felt his fingertips trace up and down the inside of your left thigh, before that hand disappeared. With the other on your right ankle keeping your legs spread and the other one missing, you could feel anticipation pool in your stomach.

SLAP.

His hand had come down hard on your cunt, fingers colliding brutally with your sensitive clit and stinging at the connection. You screamed out, body jerking with the attempt to slither away and close your thighs, but Terzo had already got himself between your legs, and there was nothing you could do but take it.

SLAP.

“Terzo!” You screamed, feeling your sensitivity dial up several notches with the second slap.

“Do you need to use your safe word, tesoro?” He asked.

“No.”

“Brava.”

SLAP.

“Want you nice and red for me when I fuck you dumb, tesoro. I told you that earlier.” This time, he rubbed his thick fingers over your clit, soothing the wound he was inflicting. “You’re already dripping enough. I could just slide in now, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, Papa!”

You felt his arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you towards the edge of the table. The rustle of his fabrics reached your ears telling you he was getting his cock out ready for you. Then you felt it: his heavy girth rubbing up and down your folds in typical Terzo fashion, the head rubbing against your cunt, encased comfortably by your lips. Every now and again, the tip would catch against your opening, and you held you breath for the push in that wouldn’t come until you least expected it. But when he did finally push inside you, your mouth fell open at the stretch. You were so sad you couldn’t watch his face, the look of it as he bottomed out on you always had you tightening around him. You were desperate to see his face crumpled up, showing you he loved being inside you.

“So fucking tight, tesoro.” He commented as soon as he was fully inside. You felt the crown nestle against your cervix, teasing you, reminding you that he was about to ruin you in all the best ways. He left you waiting for his true torture to begin, as you vaguely remembered that the only one who’d be cumming now was him.

He pulled out so his tip was almost entirely out of you, and then slammed back into you. The room echoed with the sound of the table scraping across the floor with the force of it. That sound, combined with your screams and whines, created the perfect symphony to Terzo’s onslaught.

Terzo always knew how to play you like a fiddle, pushing all of your buttons to have you walking beside the Gods. Today was no exception. Your legs had been extended to rest on his chest and over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your thick thighs for leverage as he thrust all the way into you.

Terzo fucked you like he paid for you, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt as quickly as he could move, taking only his pleasure from your body. You were lucky with all of your lovers, they were all giving and had just as much fun making you cum as they had doing the same for themselves. But sometimes, when you’d behaved in such a way to earn a punishment, you’d see all three of them be incredibly selfish and just take. Letting them use you like that, given the stark juxtaposition of their regular behaviour, always had you dripping for them, enjoying being nothing more than a living toy - a warm hole to sink into.

You clenched around Terzo’s cock as he fucked you - used you - for his own enjoyment. And, over the sounds you and your body were making, you heard Terzo’s rough voice. “Come here!” He said to someone else in the room. You heard footsteps that stopped beside Terzo. “Wrap your hand around her throat.”

The person obliged, their footsteps ending up by your head and then dropping their hand to your exposed neck. Terzo already had your body bouncing against him, ricocheting against his thrusts every time. The hand, because of this, had a little trouble grabbing onto your body, but eventually he managed it. His fingers and thumb rested against your esophagus and squeezed inwards, not restricting your airflow completely, but just enough to have you feeling the effects. Your mind had almost entirely melted, thinking of nothing other than Terzo’s cock pounding away inside you, hearing your own desperate whimpers as the hand around your pretty little neck heightened your pleasure and sensitivity.

“Who is it, tesoro?” Terzo asked, breathlessly. “Whose hand is that around your pretty little neck?”

The hand loosened enough to allow you to concentrate fully, but still rested on you to remind you of its presence. You had no idea. Not a single thought floated in your head. “Nuh!” You grunted with a particularly rough thrust. You had to guess someone. “P-Primo?”

You heard laughter, then Terzo’s voice cut through your brain. He made the sound of a buzzer, the kind of noise you hear when you get a question wrong. “Fuck her throat, Copia.”

“Fuck!” You exclaimed in irritation, kicking your feet against Terzo’s shoulder, gently.

More laughter sounded.

“Is that okay, ___?” Copia asked.

“Of course.” You replied. He obviously wanted verbal consent, so you gave him just that, hearing him walk towards the crown of your head and adjust himself so his cock was completely free. You were maneuvered so that your head hung off the edge of the table, allowing a completely flat throat, and letting the Cardinal slide into your open mouth easily.

He hissed at the feeling of your tight, wet throat engulfing him with no trouble, thanks to the position you’d been put in. Copia tried to be kind to you, thrusting softly down your throat, and pulling out often to give you some breathing time. But you began to notice that the longer he spent inside you, the more he forgot his manners, and would spend more time fucking you between the breaths he gave you. This would make you clench tighter around Terzo’s cock, in part because your body was reacting to the loss of oxygen, but mostly because the feeling of being so thoroughly used had your mind swimming. Your body loved being degraded - reduced to nothing more than a set of holes to be used at any given time. Besides, you felt like Satanic Tinkerbell - you thrived under as much attention as you could possibly get, and felt like you’d die without it.

“Cazzo!” You heard Terzo grunt. His movements grew more and more erratic the closer he got to cumming. “Look at her throat.”

“Don’t.” Copia hissed again. “If I look, I’ll cum.”

“I can see the outline of his cock down your throat, tesoro. Every time he fucks inside you, I see it.”

You whined around Copia’s cock which spurred him to thrust forward a little more violently than he meant to. He wrapped his hand back around your throat and squeezed, crying out at how much tighter you got. “Oh merda! Oh cazzo!” Copia screeched. And, with no warning and just a strangled grunt, you felt Copia thrust into you one final time before he emptied himself into your throat, hands still wrapped around your throat, but with no pressure to them. He poured so much of himself into you, his body overreacting to his first time inside you. You heard Copia’s disappointed sigh as pulled out leaving you to swallow his load with a slight ache in your throat. You felt a string of your saliva spill onto your cheek, only to get the cloth covering your eyes damp where it settled and got soaked up. pulled out of you, “Wanted to last longer.” Copia commented.

“She tends to have that effect on people.” You heard Primo say. You remembered the first time Primo fucked you, too, and how he also didn’t last as long as he wanted… in fact, it was the same for all of them. You couldn’t help the sense of pride that washed over you reminiscing over that fact. “You gotta build up stamina to enjoy her completely.”

You tightened. Out of all of them, Primo was the kindest towards you - so to hear him talk about you as if you weren’t human did something to you that you should feel ashamed about. But instead it only made you wetter.

“Merda!” Terzo groaned. “Gonna fucking cum into this slutty cunt. You want that, tesoro?”

“I want it!” You begged, breathlessly.

“How much?”

“I w-want you to fill me up so-oh bad, Papa! Fuck. Want y-you to fill me up and…” You cut yourself off, remembering that there were others present.

Terzo spanked your thigh and dropped his voice down to a quiet, husky plea. “Fucking say it. I dare you. Finish that fucking sentence.”

“Want y-you to fill me up and fuck a baby into me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

“You fucking whore!” Terzo exclaimed appreciatively. “Sathanas!” And that was all the warning you got before Terzo also emptied himself into you, cock twitching in over sensitivity as rope after rope shot into your cunt, his fingers digging into your plump calves as he tried to keep himself grounded. His knees were buckling at the force, and you felt his whole body tremble as it fought to keep him upright.

When his orgasm subsided, Terzo pulled out of you, a grunt coupling his unceremonious actions. He gently returned your legs to the table, trying to make sure that you were safe and comfortable again, before fiddling with his clothes. You assumed he’d turned to walk away, which is when you heard Secondo’s voice.

“Nuh-uh!” He scolded, clicking his fingers. You’d seen him scold Terzo before, there was no doubt in your mind that the click was followed by Secondo pointing to the problem. “Clean up your mess before someone else gets in there.”

You imagined Terzo rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager. He pulled up a chair, sat on it, and buried his face in your folds without warning. His tongue delved as deep as it would go, licking his own cum out from your cunt. Where his tongue wouldn’t reach, his fingers did, and every drop of himself was gulped down with attitude. He didn’t care a button for your pleasure this time, purely being down there just to clean you out to be used again. When he had finished, he patted your thigh twice and left you waiting and wanting for the next person.

“Wait,” you said quickly hearing all movement in the room stop, “if I keep my hands to myself, can you untie me? It’s starting to hurt.” The rope was burning against your skin now to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore. And, given that both of your arms were tied behind your back and you were laying on them, your arms felt dead and your back had begun to ache.

“Of course.” Terzo replied without thinking. He turned on his heels and rushed back to the table, his hands on your shoulders. “Sit up for me, tesoro.” He ordered, his voice much more kindly than it had been before. He helped you to sit upright. “That’s it - brava ragazza.” You felt his deft hands working at the rope Secondo had tied, making short work of it given that it was tied well. Once your wrists were free and the rope had been discarded, you felt Terzo’s gentle touch on your wrists, no doubt a little red from the irritation. “Ah, my poor amore.” He pressed his lips to them. “Battle scars, no?”

“So dramatic.” Secondo muttered from the other side of the room.

“I have some hand cream,” Primo said walking towards you, “it’ll be good enough until you get to one of our rooms and can be taken care of properly.”

“Thank you, Papa.” You replied, a soft smile on your face.

You felt Primo and Terzo rub the hand cream into your wrists, their fingers working to moisturise the skin and help repair it as quickly as possible. Primo always kept stuff like this in his pockets - hard boiled sweets included. He was such a grandpa sometimes it made you laugh. Prepared for an apocalypse - you’d tell him that every time he pulled something out of his bag or pocket that would help.

Once they’d finished, Terzo pressed a kiss to your hand and walked away, while Primo rested his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that had you sighing and leaning into his touch. “You’re doing so good for us, fiorellina.” He praised. “Just a little longer.”

Primo left you alone and everyone watched as you lay back down for them, body splaying out against the wood. Your hands went to the edges of the table, clutching on to try and stop you from grasping onto the next man who took his place between your legs.

Terzo’s voice sounded from across the room. “You have to get this next one correct, tesoro. Or we win.”

“I will. Of course I will, are we kidding?” You responded, determination in your voice.

The room was silent while the next man moved towards you - his footsteps slow and deliberate. His warm breath fanned out over your body, before finally you felt his tongue lave over your body: it ran all over your stomach, your thighs, back up to your breasts where he licked and sucked on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards as his mouth brought you so much pleasure. You had to resist the urge to clutch onto his head as you usually did whenever someone ran their tongue over your nipples. But that was when you felt it: a second tongue mimicking the patterns on your nipple and replicating it on your clit, pulling another moan from your mouth.

It was obvious that this was Secondo and Primo - although Copia had two chances, you doubt he’d have a third - or even that Terzo would come back for seconds.

“Secondo and P-Primo.” You said quickly.

“Well of course,” Terzo said, matter-of-factly, “but who’s doing what, tesoro?”

You thought you could get away with it, that they’d give you a break and let you have the win - but evidently not. “S-Secondo is - fuck -” you pushed your hips into the man’s mouth who was licking your cunt fervently. “Su-ucking on my clit.” It had to be, this was his style. He wasn’t usually gentle with your body, not when he’d been deprived for as long as he had been.

“And you think Primo is on your breasts?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off the blindfold.”

You quickly lifted it off your eyes and immediately flinched at the candlelight, despite it being low. You’d been in complete darkness the whole time, it was hardly surprising that you were struggling to see. Your eyes were blurred, and they took a while to completely adjust, but when they did, a wave of relief washed over you. You were right. Your hands immediately flew to Primo and Secondo’s heads, putting pressure on Secondo’s because he was where you needed him the most, but everyone knew that Primo’s ministrations and work on your nipples would have you tipping over the edge in no time.

Primo lifted his mouth off your nipple and attached it to your lips, fingers tweaking the opposite bud in lieu of his tongue. This kiss was just as tender as his first one, filled with such passion you felt yourself grinding on Secondo’s tongue much faster in pure desperation.

“You are doing so well, fiorellina.” Primo echoed his words from earlier, voice low, those words clearly meant for your benefit and your benefit only. “You please us so well. Take everything we give like a good girl.”

“Papa!”

“Do you feel good?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Is my brother doing a good job?”

“Yes!”

“Tell him, fiorellina. Ask him to make you cum.”

“Please!” You begged, your mind so far gone you could hardly stand it anymore. For the first time since you looked down at him, you were able to drink in the sight of the man between your thighs, roughly sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of you now like a man on a mission. You could only see the top of his head, given the rest of it was hidden by your cunt. You could only just see the bridge of his nose above your mound, his hands wrapped around your bruised, jiggling thighs, and him looking up at you through his lashes, a scowl on his brow with his determination to tip you over the edge. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes as he sucked you into his mouth, and it made your cunt clench tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Papa!”You called out to him, your stomach flipping at the sight of him. “Your t-tongue feels so… good. I’m so fucking close. P-please make me cum, Papa-ah! Wanna cum. Wanna cum so-oh I can… I can feel your c-cock deep inside me. Fuck! Just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st-op. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Secondo had pushed his face further into you, his tongue roving deliciously over your clit every time he sucked on it harshly.

“Cumming!” You announced via scream, your back arching off the table and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Your voice stopped, cut like someone had just turned the sound off but continued to play the video. Your second orgasm was violent, and wet. So very wet. Your vision was the first to go, dark patches swimming over your sight and eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they were clutching onto the table, your desperation forcing them there right as your orgasm hit lest you draw blood from your Papas. Secondo growled into your cunt as you released your cum onto him and the table below, the sound of your squirt hitting the floor as it poured from your body, combined with Secondo sucking it down greedily had your toes curling and your orgasm continuing. It felt like it went on forever, sending electric pulses all over your body until you couldn’t stand it and damn near passed out. All the while, you had Primo in your ear whispering to you; reminding you to breathe, telling you it was okay. You barely registered the fact that his hand was resting on top of yours, fingers bent to completely cover you.

Secondo stood from his place between your thighs and moved to your head to kiss you, letting one of your hands wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you as his mouth engulfed yours. Your other hand, which was still trapped beneath Primo’s, pulled out from its position and also pulled him toward you, breaking your kiss with Secondo so you could kiss Primo just as passionately. You felt Secondo’s fingers traverse the length of your body, before dipping back into your hole. “Mmmf!”You protested, muffled by Primo’s lips. You broke the kiss to look at Secondo. “Please not your hands!”

Secondo smirked. “You want my cock, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck. Please.”

“On your stomach then, amore.”

You climbed off the table before bending over it, letting your body squish against the wood so tantalisingly, you heard appreciative groans coming from everyone in the room. Secondo came back to his original position, and fumbled around with his robes before he positioned his cock at your entrance. You could feel the weight of it against you as he ran it through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. The head of his girth rubbed against your sensitive clit, still twitching from the orgasm he gave you. Each rub caused you to whimper from the sensation, mouth hanging open and brow furrowing in pleasure.

When Secondo finally sank in, the stretch was divine. Secondo was so, incredibly thick and long, he reached depths that you had never felt before. Despite already being fucked once, your cunt was still forced open as though this was the first cock you’d taken in a long, long time. Your hands clutched onto the table again, grasping the edges tightly to ground yourself as you cried out, his own hiss of pleasure echoing in your ears as he, too, felt the effects of your extraordinarily tight pussy. He gave you time to adjust to him and his size once he’d buried himself all the way to the hilt, hands on your ass cheeks, gripping tight enough for the fat to squeeze between his fingers. A string of expletives in Italian fell from his lips, punctuated by a bite to your right hip. He thrust inside tentatively at first, hitting your cervix so deliciously, your eyes rolled back into your head and a delirious smile played on your lips. Secondo kept rocking into you, hitting that spot over and over again, gradually picking up the pace until he was fucking into you at a rough pace - the perfect pace.

Primo stood in front of you, watching your face as you took Secondo’s cock. Your hands unclasped from the table and moved to Primo’s clothed cock, standing to attention underneath his robes, and began to fumble with the fabric to free him. You wanted his cock in your mouth, just as much as you needed Secondo’s. You gave Primo’s cock two strokes at first, staving off the arousal just enough to get him into your mouth without him blowing too soon. Primo was always a delight to give head to - he was always so gentle, so appreciative, hands in your hair and sweet touches, never taking too much unless you were offering it and giving you kind praise as you worked hard to get him to cum.

Your first lick ran from base to tip, causing his toes to curl in his shoes at the pressure. But once you were at his head, you swirled your tongue around it, taking the whole tip in your mouth and sucking like you would taking cake mix off the spoon. You hollowed your cheeks to make a better suction for his head, and relished in the feeling of his hands in your hair, grunts of desperation slipping from his lips. You moved your hands to his hips and silently pulled them forward, sucking more of him into your mouth until that tip was right at the back of your throat, dipping down into your throat. All the while, you looked up at him through your lashes, big, doe eyes maintaining eye contact with him while your lips sinfully stretched around his cock.

“Oh my,” Primo commented, chest heaving from his lack of breath, “look at that. You look so pretty like this, fiorellina.”

He began to gently fuck your throat, pulling out completely to give you the opportunity to breathe, and bending down to kiss you ever now and then, before eventually feeding his cock back into your mouth, and repeating the process all over again.

In the meantime, behind you, Secondo was fixated on the way your cunt swallowed him whole, greedily pulling him back in and clenching down on his shaft as Primo sent those praises to you, and they shot straight down to your hole. You could hear Secondo’s own grunts and groans as he felt this, and just how feral he was becoming the longer he was inside of you. You were feeling so good, you were creaming on his cock, and Secondo couldn’t take his eyes off the juice that had gathered at the base, pulling and snapping with each time he pulled out then slammed back in.

He pushed his hand underneath your body and began to play with your clit again, stealing a moan from your mouth, muffled by Primo’s cock that was buried all the way to the hilt down your throat again. Secondo chuckled at your response, “You like that, amore?” He asked, his tone delightfully condescending, filled with a false sympathy that had goosebumps forming on your skin. “You like taking two cocks at the same time, hm? Like being used by four men in one day?”

“You should have seen the way her eyes lit up just now, fratellino.” Primo said, stroking your hair.

“Her cunt is clenching - I know how much she likes being a whore for us. Listen to her.” True enough, underneath your muffled whines and moans, everyone could hear the sound of Secondo fucking into you, how your wetness splashed around him and made it so, embarrassingly clear just how much you loved this. Secondo laughed again. “Look over at Terzo and the Cardinal, amore.”

You did as Secondo asked, pulling Primo out of your mouth to look at them over your shoulder. Terzo was, as expected, brazen with his thoughts, his cock completely out of his trousers again and his fist wrapped around it, darkened eyes trained on your body as you bounced off Secondo’s cock, and swallowed Primo’s with enthusiasm. Copia, on the other hand, clearly just as affected as Terzo, was still dressed from his earlier encounter with your mouth, but his hand rubbing over his cassock as discreetly as he could manage. You tightened again momentarily, relishing in the fact that you had four men rock hard and desperate to bury themselves in all of your holes.

“You should have seen the Cardinal earlier, tesoro.” Terzo teased. “How eager he was to fuck your throat.”

“Fuck.” You muttered, eyes watching your friend rut into his own hand. at the sight of you getting fucked relentlessly. There was something so incredible about being the centre of everyone’s attention, and the object of all their desires. How a man who you’d never even seen in a sexual light before, and you were sure hadn’t thought of you in one, was now trying to cum for a second time at the thought of you. “M-my hands are - fuck! Papa! - My hands a-are free.” You hinted, before taking Primo back into your mouth and curling your hands into loose fists, creating two new holes for Terzo and Copia to use at their pleasure. Of course, they leaped forward, and before you knew it both of their cocks had been spat on, then slid into your fists, and began fucking your hands as they would your cunt.

You were stuffed full, almost every hole imaginable filled with the cocks of the highest members of the clergy, at the mercy of the Emeritus brothers as they had their wicked ways with you. The rigorous snaps of Secondo’s hips had you bouncing along the table, meaning Primo could stand still and you’d take his cock completely hands free, with Secondo doing all the work.

From your peripherals, you watched as Copia used your hand, his own resting on the table as though he were too shy to touch you, despite wrapping his digits around your throat and making your airways tighter for him to fuck as he pleased. Terzo, however, a man used to being deep inside you and taking his pleasure from your body, had leaned over and landed a few, stinging slaps to your ass, watching as it jiggled with both the force of his hits and the backshots Secondo was giving you. That same hand he put in his mouth - his pinkie to be precise - salivated all over it, and then began to rub it over the rim of your ass, making you jump in surprise. And then, when you’d relaxed to his touch, he inserted the tip into your twitching hole, only down to the mid knuckle, but that combined with Secondo still playing with your clit had you tipping over into your third orgasm, body tensing and cunt fluttering around his cock.

Primo had pulled out, allowing you to breathe through it, crouching down and wrapping his own hand around his cock, stroking himself furiously. “That’s it, fiorellina. Cum for us. You’re doing so well for us. Such a good girl. Ah! Sathanas! I’m close.”

When you came back to your senses, you fixated your eyes on Primo’s desperately moving hand, willing it back into your mouth, but Primo wasn’t having it.

His voice dropped to a whisper so only you could hear him. “Can I cum, fiorellina?”

Unable to speak through your exhaustion, you nodded.

“Close your eyes for me.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, and mere seconds later you heard Primo groan and then his cum landing on your flushed cheek, nose, and upper lip.

“Oh, fuck! Look at her now!” You heard Terzo say, in awe of your fucked out state, covered in cum. “Shit, me too!” He pulled out from your fist and stood where Primo once was, stroking himself until completion over your face, groaning as the first rope of cum shot out and landed on your forehead. It dripped down onto your cheek, joining the first load of cum, along with hitting your nose.

It didn’t take much longer for Secondo’s orgasm to hit him, his thrusts becoming sloppy and fast until he buried himself as deep as he could inside you, falling onto your plush body as rope after rope spilled in your tight, wet heat. His hands were gripping onto your flesh so hard, you were sure he was going to leave bruises, bruises you were excited to see for days after so you could remember what happened on your first game night with the boys.

Copia was the last one to cum, his own stamina keeping him going just as was promised by Primo earlier. But even still, a few more thrusts and he was done, his own cum joining Primo and Terzo’s on your face but this time it hit your mouth and chin, dripping onto the floor when the load was too big to stick to your skin.

You all sat there for a moment, catching your breaths from the intensity of the evening. Primo, as predicted, was exhausted and making a joke about how his old body couldn’t keep up to everyone. Terzo had picked up that same cloth that was on your eyes earlier and used it to wipe the copious amounts of cum that had painted your face; the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a look of disgust on his face as he finished cleaning you up as much as he could. “You did so well for us, tesoro.” He said, his voice low and warm. “I would kiss you but…”

You laughed, “I understand.”

“Grazie.”

“I still won, though.” You announced, smugly. You yelped when you felt Secondo spank your ass.

“Alright then, champion.” He said. “Let’s get you properly cleaned up.”

Secondo helped you get your habit back on once he had pulled out of you, and let you lean on him as you walked. Your legs were like jelly from both the position you were in and from the three orgasms the men had put you through. You bade each of them a good night before Secondo pulled you to his room, running you a bath upon arrival. As the water filled the tub, he stripped you naked again and had you sit on the edge, a damp, soapy cloth in his hands using it to properly wash your face, and clean you of any cum Terzo hadn’t managed to get. “You let us be too rough for you, amore.” He gently scolded you, watching as your face reddened beneath the warm water.

“It’s nothing I don’t enjoy, Papa.” You retorted, equally as soft. “I’d use my safeword if I didn’t. You know it makes me feel good when you use me. I feel better the more animalistic you get.”

“I don’t think we talked about the reason why before.”

“It’s the fact that you want me so much, you revert back to primal instincts and take me fiercely. Like you’re staking your claim.” Your thighs squirmed at the thought.

“You didn’t get enough just now, amore?” Secondo asked, clocking your body’s response. He knelt down and spread your legs, watching your labia part and wetness seep out again. He frowned. “Your poor pussy took such a beating - she’s so red.”

“She can take more, Papa.”

He looked up at you darkly. “You want your Papa to fuck you again? Fill you up with another load of cum, hm? You’re that desperate for cock you want your Papa to fill you again even though you’ve just taken four?”

“Please, Papa.” You whispered, feeling your nipples harden with arousal.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit and had you jumping. “In the tub then, puttana. Let me claim you properly.”

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helenisaweirdo · 8 days ago

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hatred.

oliver aiku x fem!reader, accidental pregnancy, aiku is an asshole at the beginning, reader is of age, angst to comfort, happy ending

a/n: the reason that barou is so close to reader is because reader went to the same high school as oliver did (as the soccer team manager), and in the light novel it’s canon that oliver and barou played against each other in high school. so barou and reader has met before.

———

november 2, 2018

the two lines on the small screen was like being mocked by your best friend behind your back.

you had begged, prayed, even did rituals hoping that this wouldn’t be the case. but your gut instantly dropped when the two lines made it’s way to the small screen on the stick. nonononononononono—! why? why did this have to happen to you? you placed one hand on your lower abdomen, rubbing it in circles.

you shouldn’t abort your child. they didn’t do anything wrong, and you were the one who told him about wanting to be a mother one day, after all. all those times that you had treated the small kids at his soccer games so kindly right in front of him…it was only to be expected of that he was the one to ultimately get you pregnant.

oliver aiku.

captain of the U20 team, infamous womanizer, and annoying handsome asshole. and the man who just single-handedly ruined your life.

you’re slipping off the cool metal of the white gold band on your left ring finger, throwing it onto the floor and sitting down next to it, hugging your knees and letting out choked sobs. was the darry ring just another act of purposeful hurt, too? oliver wasn’t someone to settle down for a family life, let alone get married, so was the darry ring just to earn your trust?

and your mind flashes to the night you both broke up. that snowy night, where you had slapped him straight across the face, when you had screamed at him for cheating on you with another girl. one of his ex flings that told you that they hooked up again…while he was still dating you.

but now that you think about it again, why was he so quiet that night? wouldn’t he usually try to explain himself or try to make peace between the two of you?

you shake your head, picking up the ring from the floor and staring at it once again. adorned with diamonds and my love for you, he had told you when he first gave it to you. it was all a lie, it must have been. otherwise he would have never cheated on you.

———

november 6, 2018

“i was wondering if…um…”

“yes?”

you’re staring at the woman in front of you. she’s gorgeous, you think. oliver would probably leave you for her in a heartbeat. anri teieri are the boldly written words on her name tag. “if i do this job, of you know, being the manager of blue lock and all. would it be likely that i’ll be able to see oliver aiku?”

you had deleted his contact, blocked his email, and blocked all of his social media accounts when you both broke up. you couldn’t remember any of his information, either. and oliver being oliver, he wasn’t an easy person to reach. you eventually came to the conclusion to attend online classes for your college and work at blue lock.

“well, yes, it’s practically a guarantee. he’s the captain of the U20 team, after all. but, Miss…” anri looks down at your stomach, eyebrows knitted together. “are you sure you’re in any condition to work? especially cleaning up after and cooking for teenage boys? i don’t want you to injure yourself, especially with a baby. you’re—how many months in?”

“im at 1 month. 6 weeks, to be exact. and its babies. im having twins.” you muttered. “its alright, it can help me practice cooking and cleaning for the kids. you know how children are—they’re always either making messes or hungry.” you place a hand on your abdomen. “im sure it will be alright. but thank you for your concern, anri.”

“you’re 19, 3 years younger than me…oh, you poor girl. i’ll just need you to sign some papers first and make a few phone calls with mr ego, and we’ll be set.” anri shakes your hand firmly before a soft smile graces her lips. “you’ll be an excellent mother. don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“thank you.” you smile back meekly, preparing yourself for the days of hell of taking care of sweaty teenage boys. but hey, considering how you used to be the manager of your high school boys soccer team (with oliver on it, no less), you’re probably already used to it.

———

february 26 2019

“you need me to take over cleaning for you?”

barou sits down next to you, sliding a bowl of rice of some dishes (that are beneficial for pregnant women, you notice) in front of you. “if you don’t mind.” you reply, picking up a pair of chopsticks and beginning to devour the food.

“well, i was planning on doing so anyway. it’s not good for a pregnant woman to do any work, even if you’re only on your fourth month.” barou begins to eat his own portion of rice. “i already finished all of my training for the U20 match tomorrow anyways.”

“thanks, barou.”

after a fair amount of time, you’ve only told the people at blue lock who you knew wouldn’t freak out about you pregnancy: which wasn’t much. isagi, yukimiya, kunigami, barou, kurona, hiori, and nanase. you would only tell everyone else when your stomach grew a considerable amount, enough to single-handedly show that you were pregnant.

“you must be training hard to surpass isagi. that’s amazing, barou.” you begin, taking a glance at how barou wolfs down his food. he nods from under the bowl. you notice how he’s also less…irritated with you. at least, he always tries to be. even if you make a stupid mistake or dirties certain things that were once clean, barou takes one look at your abdomen before just cleaning it again. a classic gentleman—why the hell didn’t he have a girlfriend yet?

—

you couldn’t sleep that night. you moved the mattress up, you moved the mattress down, you pulled the blankets up, you pulled the blankets down. you opened the girls, you closed the lights. and yet you still couldn’t sleep.

finally, you began rubbing your stomach in circles. “my sweeties, tomorrow you’ll finally be able to hear your dad’s voice for the first time. and if all goes well, you’ll both be able to meet him when you’re both due in august.”

after a few more kicks and hushed promises, you could finally dear your eyelids growing heavy, and you began a dreamless rest.

———

february 27 (the day of the U20 match)

you sat on the bench of the changing room for the U20 team. blue lock had already won, and for privacy, the U20 team left the changing room, leaving only you and oliver inside after some negotiations. oliver’s eyes are fixated on you, and they can’t seem to pull away.

“oliver,” you began, sighing. “im going to make this quick because i know that you’re fangirls are too impatient to wait for you for so long. im pregnant,” you ignored the way that his jaw went slack. “your kids, twins, a boy and a girl. they’re both due in august. do you want both, should i have both, should we each raise one—“

“marry me.”

now it was your turn for your jaw to go slack.

“what—? but you fucking cheated on me!”

oliver’s lips pressed into a thin line. “i’ve cheated on tens of women before, but i’ve never once cheated on you. you’re the only one that i’ll never cheat on. akamei was just a liar who wanted me to take her back, but lying to the love of my life wasn’t the best way to go about it.

“i don’t blame you if you still don’t trust me, but at least let me marry you and let me be a good father to our kids. they deserve it, and you deserve it too for staying strong for months of being a single pregnant mom.”

tears began to pool at your eyes, and your chest felt tight. “fuck, since when were you so mature, oliver?” you threw yourself into his arms, soft sniffles escaping you and onto his shoulders.

“it’s not that im mature, i just really love you.”

———

january 3, 2025

“mama, did you and daddy have a fairytale love story too?”

your daughter olivia’s words make you freeze in your steps. after once against reading her a classic lover story (Cinderella) as a nighttime story, your daughter has been obsessed with them…not a good thing.

“of course they did! just look at them now!” your son oscar from right next to her replied. you gulped before nodding shakily.

“yep…yep! goodnight, guys! i love you both!” you scurried out of the room and into your shared room with oliver, where he laid relaxed on the bed.

“you seem tense.”

“yeah, olivia just fucking asked if we had a fairytale love story, no shit.”

“we did!”

“fuck you.”

———

FIN.

#blue lock x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock #oliver aiku #oliver #bllk aiku #blue lock aiku #blue lock oliver #bllk oliver #bllk #bllk x reader #oliver aiku x reader #oliver x reader #aiku x reader

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daydreaming-paradies · 8 months ago

Text

Duo Dynamics with HSR Men

ᡣ𐭩 Summary: What is your duo dynamic with HSR men?

ᡣ𐭩 characters: Dr.Ratio(194), Argenti(219), Luka(278), and Gepard(163)

ᡣ𐭩 Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/comfort, crack, Reader being insecure of Love(Aregnti), Unrequired love to required love(Luka), Serval and Pela want to smack someone on the head(Gepard), a little bit of angst

ᡣ𐭩 ~ Want to Continue?~

Dr. Ratio

I hate everybody but you x sunshine

Veritas Ratio’s coworkers notice that Veritas is rude and arrogant towards others but you, the sunshine student under Veritas Ratio. Even Topaz was confused by how Veritas treated you kindly while treating others with arrogance and pride. You always greeted everyone and Veritas with a smile on your face but since Veritas treated you with kindness, everyone has been teasing him nonstop which annoyed Veritas but it was worth it in his opinion. One day, you see Veritas taking care of one of his status, your eyes shine so much and go up to him. “Dr.Ratio!” You called out to him. “You look absolutely exquisite today sir.” The poor man’s heart is about to burst out in cuteness overload for you but he did not show it. “Well thank you,[Y/N]. I know that I am exquisite today but please make sure to turn in your work.” You nod and go off on your merry day. “Jeez Doctor.” Aventurine says with a sly smile. “I never knew IPC’s Sunshine had this much power over you.” Veritas has to hit Aventurine with a book since he nearly exposes the flustered man to Topaz.

Argenti

Believes they don't deserve love x Absolutely down bad

Ah Argenti, the man who sees beauty in everything and everyone. He is the man with love for anything but he is absolutely down bad for you. You on the other hand do not see Love in a positive light. You are often insecure with yourself after a harsh break up with your ex, you unfortunately don't believe that you are undeserving for love. You think to yourself that Agrenti will use you for your body or looks. Argenti knows this and he has every right to understand where you are coming from but he also knows that he is not like your ex. He kept pursuing you, asking for a chance and the dude even says that he will wait for you like a knight would. At first you are wary and harshly reject or ignore him but after a while, you slowly accept Argenti’s advances with a promise to deal with your actions that the red haired man immediately. It does take time but you slowly slowly come to realize that Argenti loves you for you, how Argenti worships you, kisses the ground you walk on. You have decided to give love another chance and ask Argenti out which he happily accepted with an attack of compliments to you. Maybe love is not so bad after all.

Luka

Childhood best friends to lovers

Luka is your childhood best friend and the first friend you had. You two did everything together and even looked up to each other. But sadly, life gets in the way as you have to move away to another city. Luka was heartbroken as he never confessed his love to you but he was determined to wait for you. He kept his promise alright as now as a young man in high school, being all his happy go lucky self when he heard someone call his name. He looked to the source of the voice and he saw you all grow up and pretty, he felt his heart race at the sight of you, He did not know what came up to him. He ran up to you and hugged you tightly, mumbling how he misses you and how life is not the same without you. You were glad how you could see Luka again but you noticed how Luka had that look of longing in his blue eyes, how his hands brushed against yours and he made excuses about it. You had a sneaky feeling that he had a crush on you and you are not going to lie. You also have a crush on him too because he knows you very well unlike the others and to be perfectly honest you want Luka to confess his feelings to you already. You cannot stand this unrequited love but thankfully the aeons are not so mean after all. Luka confessed to you underneath the starry skies of your two’s favorite hang out spot and you tearfully reciprocate his feelings with a kiss on the lips. Ah,young love.

Gepard

Oblivious x Oblivious

If everyone can say one thing about you and Gepard is that you two are so oblivious to each other’s feelings is both funny and facepalm worthy. You two talk about each other all the time and even trying to say that you two don’t probably don't feel the same makes Pela wanna cry and Serval wants to hit someone with her guitar over and over again. It takes you both 4 whole months that you two love each other. “I did not know me and Gepard loved each other.” You told Serval and Pela with Gepard in Serval’s line of sight. “Why does nobody tell us? We should have known this in the first place.” The sight of Pela hitting you with the book and Serval smacking Gepard upside on the head over and over again while chasing him is to this day a funny story nobody can live it down. That is what you two get for being so damn oblivious!

~Taglist: @dailypenpen @purpleqilinwrites @areislol @yoghurtsan @ryuryuryuyurboat @thestarswhisper @windblume-wishes @husky-studies @sanzach / @zaeshi-amatus @mitsvriii @aventxsha @the-guardian-kitsune @asoulsreverie @mccnstruck @snobwaffles @sweetlyvibe @dxmoness @inkybloom-luv

#ཐིཋྀ- daydream’s paradise -ཐིཋྀ #୨୧- daydream’s library #ᰔ- come daydream again #𖤍-honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #gepard x reader #dr. ratio x you #hsr luka x reader #argenti x y/n #argenti x you #dr. ratio x reader #gepard x you #hsr Luka x y/n

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rafeskiss · 5 months ago

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dumb & poetic ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: toxic bf!rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe went to a party without you and you hear from a friend that he hooked up with another girl. he gaslights and manipulates his way out of it. based on the song ‘dumb & poetic’ by sabrina carpenter

warnings: gaslighting, manipulation, cussing, mentions loss of virginity, toxic relationship, no smut

authors note: short n’ sweet is out and this album SCREAMS rafe mf cameron. possibly gonna do a little story for each song….

he’s lying to your face. seriously, his stupid fucking blue eyes are looking right in yours and he’s lying. the same eyes he used to stare at and call gorgeous are now meaningless as he looks right into them and manipulates you.

if you kept track of every shitty thing he did, you’d add a gold star for the reason being highbrow manipulation right about now. he was great at it. but as the months went on, and you started to realize maybe the way he treats you isn’t entirely love, but love for controlment, you saw past it.

“no, i swear, y/n.” rafe takes your hand in his softly, “nothing happened. i was just… just off my ass, you know? c’mon, baby, you know how i am.” he spoke kindly like he wasn’t just lying about hooking up with a girl at a party.

he sniffles, “really, baby. i love you ‘n shit like i wouldn’t cheat on you.” he nods, like he’s trying to convince himself more than he is you.

you just look at him, no emotion on your face. his thumb caresses your hand like a tactic he’s trying to use to make you believe him.

he’s trying to come off as soft and well spoken, but if anyone knows rafe like you do, he’s so unbelievably far from it. you know he knows he fucked up this time because he isn’t screaming and throwing shit at the walls. maybe he feels some guilt.

“scarlett literally said she saw you drag that girl into a room at the party. why would scarlett get off on lying about that?” you say while shaking your head.

he throws his hands up in the air, dropping yours and shrugging. “fuck if i knew. fuck. if. i. knew.”

he’s really trying to sell this whole act. it’s insulting how stupid he thinks you are.

you sigh and drop your head in your hands, “i don’t know what the fuck to do…”

rafe kneels down in front of you. you look up, still resting your chin in between your hands.

“communicate with me, y/n. what’s going on?” he asks like he really gives a fuck.

you softly shake your head, “i love you so fucking much, rafe. and you always have a way of making me look fucking stupid.”

he furrows his brows, “y/n. do you really think i’d cheat on you like that? do you think that little of me?”

your jaw actually dropped. you literally gasped and opened your mouth in shock. do you think that little of me? you repeated that inside your head.

you stood up, rafe still on his knees. “do i think that little of you? i gave you my fucking virginity. i think the most of you! i’m the one that tells my friends everytime they see you being a psychopath that you just had an off day. i defend you to everyone!” you yelled. rafe looked surprised you actually raised your voice at him.

he stood up and stared at you intently. “if all of your friends hate me then why are you still with me?” he said bluntly.

you didn’t know that answer to that. not really at least. you love him. you gave your virginity to him. yet another trophy he can display inside his head that makes him feel more man than his father. and part of you deep down believes you can fix him.

you were silent for a minute. a small smirk was painted on his face that basically read ‘you respect yourself so little that you still won’t leave.’ for such a coward, rafe cameron was the most powerful person you met. and you knew that you were too for staying.

“you can’t keep doing this to me rafe,” you said almost like a plead, like in another universe you were probably on your knees begging. your lip quivered and your eyes were glossy but you wouldn’t dare cry; it would make him happier. it’s like a fetish to him— fucking with girls heads. fucking with your head got him off the most.

he went from being innocent and apologetic to demanding and egotistical, but at the same time he never stopped being either of those things in this conversation.

he aggressively pulled you into a hug, pushing your head down into his chest. “i love you.”

you bit the inside of your cheek. “love you too, rafe.” you whispered.

you felt pain because you knew he did cheat on you, but you felt pain that you had to take the blame for because you stayed. and you always would. he knew it.

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janetsboys · 9 months ago

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gally x female reader pleaseeee anything

here you go baby

.:｡✿*ﾟ‘ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ’ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ¨ﾟ✎･ ✿.｡.:* *.:｡

❀ characters: gally x fem!reader

❀ A/N: i’m so sorry for the amount of time it took me to post this

❀ summary: y/n has been in the Glade for three months, she’s a Builder, but she doesn’t get why her boss hates her.

❀ warnings: can’t think of any

english is not my first language<3

.:｡✿*ﾟ‘ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ’ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ¨ﾟ✎･ ✿.｡.:* *.:｡

❀ ❀ ❀

“Why do you even care so much about what this jerk thinks about you?” Newt asks you as you’re both sat under a tree during your work break.

“I don’t know, we spend our days together and I just, I just wanted him to like me but every single thing i do makes him angry!” you say agitating your hands in incomprehension.

“He hates everyone, pretends he likes his friends, and he doesn’t like you because you get attention for being the only girl in here. He knows everyone likes you.” Newt was your best friend and always brutally honest with you, which was why you loved him so much.

You were looking at the grass under the “sun”light when a tall shadow came up to you and Newt. “Hey, it’s ten minutes break not five hours so get your ass back to the cabin.”

Gally was looking down on you, talking to you with a severe tone as usual. You in fact didn’t know why you wanted him to like you. He’s your boss and you spend all your days with him, you thought maybe you could see something behind his cold personality because weirdly, he didn’t intimidate you. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like you.

You were fixing a fence for the Slicers to keep the livestock in the Glade when you heard Gally saying there was a bonfire tonight. You thought that would be the perfect occasion to try to make friends with him. Though you didn’t want to chase him down and beg for friendship, it was your last try.

When the night started and you joined the gladers at their little celebration for being alive another day (that’s what you guessed), you didn’t know everyone perfectly well yet. You liked Zart because he was really nice to you, you liked Ben and Minho cause they were unintentionally funny to you, and Newt was your favorite of course.

You looked around to find someone you know because you didn’t want to be in the middle of all the boys by yourself and also, you don’t like all the attention being on you (— which was unfortunate since the attention was always on you).

Minho waved at you with a straight face because he saves his smiles for rare occasions. You felt relieved as you walked to him sitting alone but you also felt a huge pressure as if someone was looking at you.

“Hey, how is this bonfire going so far for you?” Minho kindly asked giving you a cup of a weird drink, “Well, i like parties, i think i do, at least. I’d like to know everyone here but apparently, not everybody wants me here.” you respond taking a sip before making a face.

“Gally again?” Minho said exhaling, “I know i shouldn’t care but it makes me upset.” you say sitting next to him, sighing.

“Don’t worry, it’ll come. He’ll end up liking you just like we all do because, there’s absolutely no reason to hate you.” he kindly answers with a little smile. Your best friends really treated you well for the past three months because, even though they couldn’t understand how it was to be a girl in a world of boys, they knew how hard it was for them when they arrived here. They could only imagine it was harder for you.

“Thank you.” you say with a tiny smile before resting your head on his shoulder. You knew Minho wasn’t really the one to say kind words to everybody. Or the one to accept a head on the shoulder easily, but he let you.

“Hey Newt.” you saw him walking up to you with a huge cup, “Do you guys want to taste THIS?” he said laughing like he knew something you didn’t. “That thing has to hold a deadly virus.” Minho said before you added “No thank you, i’d rather stay alive.” slightly giggling.

Newt then turned around to look at everybody then told you; “The hell is he staring at?”, “Who?” you answered a bit concerned. “Gally.” Newt said laughing again, “Maybe he doesn’t hate you that much after all.”

“You know what? I’m gonna talk to him and we’ll see if tomorrow he still hates me.” you reposted getting up to go there. “He doesn’t hate you!” you hear Newt add as you walk away. Always the devils advocate, always staying positive for some reason.

You felt a little stressed out, your hands were slightly shaking as you got closer to him while he was focused on laughing with his friends and drinking, you started regretting but you were too far into your mistake to go back. Of course, the alcohol in your blood made you braver which was good in this situation.

You sat next to him as if it was totally normal. “Hey, Gally, this drink is really good. I heard the recipe was a secret.” you boldly told him putting hair behind you ear, trying to look confident.

“Thanks. What are you doing here? Your boyfriend and your lil’ best friend must miss you already.” He says loudly as all his Builder friends laugh (— they laughed like that was the funniest thing ever, i think they laugh at everything Gally says).

“I don’t have a boyfriend, i have good friends though. And some guys seem to dislike me for unknown reasons, they miss out on a lot of fun.” you smile, looking really friendly and nice. You’re not trying to seem patronizing or something. That would only make him despise you.

“So, Gally, you want us to go get another drink?” he stares at you for a while before getting up to follow you. Your legs shake from stress as he walks besides you.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything about you?” you break the short silence. “There’s nothing to say.” he coldly answered. “Oh come on, you like building and fighting, what else do you like?” “Having a purpose. And a home. I guess.” he finally opens up a little bit more to you. You feel a small smile growing on your face, breaking the ice.

“Great, you know what, I like that too. We have a common point, see?” he stops walking when you finish talking.

“You know, (y/n), i didn’t like all the changes you brought with you. Everything was new when you arrived in that box.” he says looking at you. “And you hate change, i get it. I’m sorry.” you say smiling again. You finally started to understand what kind of guy he was, he needed stability, and control.

“It’s not your fault, we made those adjustments for you and you turned out to be a Builder. I think it is- nice to have you with us.” wow, Gally was complementing you? That made you blush for a reason you ignored. You then started walking again towards the drinks. “I’m glad to work with you guys too. It’s tough for me but i try to stay positive and fit in, you know?” you confess to your new friend.

Maybe his drink convinced him you weren’t that annoying after all. He handed you a glass of whatever that was and you walked back to the others to sit down with them.

You relaxed a little bit and started making jokes, your coworkers were really dumb (most of them) but pretty funny and nice even though they were kind of onerous sometimes — as you are a girl and of course it means there are a lot of inappropriate jokes they’re allowed to make.

You knew Alby made it very clear no one was allowed to touch you, or go too far, so you felt safe with them. You knew teenagers like them wouldn’t hurt you, even the dumbest ones.

Surprisingly, you started laughing with Gally, he was actually chill in parties, unlike the bossy guy you knew at work and also in the glade in general. Maybe those nights were important to him because it was a traditional thing, you were staring at him as he told a story about Zart, that you never heard before.

You didn’t know why exactly but you needed to analyze his face, you liked the way his eyes moved and the way he smiled telling that anecdote. You bursted out laughing at the exact same time the other Builders did, he was a good storyteller.

When everybody started separately talking, you looked at Gally and spoke, pretty loudly so he could hear you “You’re a good storyteller” you smiled, he leaned over a bit, to hear you “What?” he asked smiling, you put your hand on his arm and got closer to his ear, you were more confident, you felt like you usually do when you’re with Next and Minho. “I said you’re a good storyteller” you chuckled slightly.

He pulled away and looked at you, he was smiling way more now that you guys had talked. Now that you knew he didn’t exactly hate you. “Really?” you nodded, and he stood up and you tilted your head slightly.

He held his hand out, you took his hand without hesitation and walked with him.

You walked in the Glade without really knowing where you wanted to go, you chuckled as you talked about the story he told.

“Did he really wake up with those drawings on his face?” “He really did, and he stayed like that the whole day.” he laughed.

You sat down together at the end of a tree, you were both a bit tired but you still wanted to talk.

“You’ve been here three years, right?” you say looking at the trees around you. The “moon”light made everything look peaceful in the Glade.

Gally nodded “Three years.” he said staring at a random tree. You looked at him “Do you think they’ll find a way out?” you ask, you still had the innocence of being here for three months, because you had no idea how it felt for them. This was the only home he’d ever known.

He shrugged, “I don’t think anything, I wait.” you looked down, you wondered everyday why you were all here, why you were the only girl, why didn’t you remember your life.

“Do you think we like, knew each other out of the Glade? In our other lives, i mean.” you look back at the trees, not noticing he had turned his head to look at you. “You think we were friends or something?” he asked then continued, “maybe we were like- high school enemies.”

You giggled and looked at him “I’m sorry but you must’ve been a bully.” he nodded chuckling “Alright alright i’ll give you that one. You must’ve been the girl that talked back to teachers but still had good grades.” you laughed at his statement, you had thought so many times about what your life could’ve been like outside the Glade.

Somehow, you always thought you used to know Gally. “I’m almost sure I knew you.” you say, looking in front of you, your two bodies sitting pretty close to each other. He turned his head to look at you. “Is that why you wanted to be my friend here?” he wondered, he’d always been curious about you, he just never admitted it.

You nodded then answered “I think…Maybe i was looking for comfort and landmarks. I thought maybe what i felt towards you was that research of something. Because i couldn’t let go of the past even if i didn’t remember anything.”

He was listening closely to every word you said, you didn’t think he’d want to understand you and genuinely listen. He nodded “So, i was like, a magnet and you were metal?” he said sounding surprisingly soft and warm.

You giggled slightly looking at him “Yeah, that’s it. That’s why i didn’t want you to hate me.” you smiled. He shook his head “I never hated you, i was just, scared, i guess.” you could hear the slight shake in his voice, because you paid so much attention to details.

You heard him say i guess and he was trying to make his fear seem like nothing, but it mattered to you. “I think, you had every right to be scared.” you said with a gentle tone, nodding your head slightly.

You kind of just, looked into each other’s eyes for a while, it was like there was some sort of connection between you, you felt seen. The real you, the one you didn’t even remember.

He leaned towards you, you stopped thinking, you stopped hearing the loud thoughts and worries in your mind, he carefully placed his huge hand on your face, you closed your eyes as he tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips against you.

That was both of y’all’s first kiss ever, which felt weird, you gently took his hand into yours as he kissed you. You quickly both heard Clint screaming as he was looking for you guys.

You both pulled away and bursted out laughing, you had no idea what all that was, but it was surely a new connection.

.:｡✿*ﾟ‘ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ’ﾟ･✿.｡.:* *.:｡✿*ﾟ¨ﾟ✎･ ✿.｡.:* *.:｡

thank you for reading me🩵

#gally x reader #tmr gally #gally #gally maze runner #gally x y/n #gally x you #gally imagine #gally tmr x reader #the maze runner #tmr x reader

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