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#but i do not think that is the only reason
kaahmbem · 2 days
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legend has it that the young witch circe and the once beautiful nymph scylla shared a complicated past...
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saying this as respectfully as possible but. Do not put fandom content creators on a pedestal. We are also just fans contributing to a community just as you are. We have boundary on our own work and that’s it. What I say is not and should not be considered sth the whole fandom should listen to. I’m just a normal ass person ranting about things on my blog. If it does not have a fandom tag for others to engage in, do not make it out to be me trying to start fights or addressing the whole community. Because it’s not.
I’ve said it before and I will say it again, my art, my lore talk, is biased. I’ve never tried to hide that I view Marika a certain way and will always develop my theory following that base assumption.
Aside from translation stuffs and pointing out in-game items, everything else I say you can look at it, agree or disagree, and move on to form your own opinions. Just because I draw stuffs doesn’t mean you get to saddle me with responsibilities about managing fandom expectations. What the hell? I’m a fan artist, I’m the last person who you should look at for “leaderism” (?) WHAT?
I can and will be a hater in my own space, like I know sometimes other artists will just post their stuffs and not engage too heavily with fandom, and for a while I did try to do that here (because I’m already a dramatic ass on twitter), that’s just not me though.
You will get art and you will get my opinions as well.
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#asking ppl to [celebrate different takes] is... WHAT?#different takes as in well I think she likes apples and you think she likes grapes. yeah that’s some fun discussion to be have#but different takes as in the fundamental of a character’s drive and personality??? NO#let’s put that down very clear here#I can still read fics where Marika is cold and calculate and manipulative as long as I can see there’re layers to it and the author#set it up in a way that I can see they got her backstory and build those layers based on that#and then there are ppl who literally only portray her as omg evil girlboss 101 let’s blame everything on this cardboard character#then I click back.#and there r ppl who might not vibe with how i portray her and they can ignore me. THAT'S OK TOO. we r in our own space.#it’s as simple as that!#ever since the dlc is out i literally could see the amount of ppl blocking me go up and im just “ok” because i do go around muting ppl too.#that's normal fandom space managing experience. pls do that#lore discussion is for ppl to engage in so u say ur piece i say mine and we can continue or not depending on situation#but FANWORK? leave each other alone or be a hater in ur own space ok?#personal#also where are these ppl who have been defending Marika at... because if u exclude me#and some others i can count on one hand. where are these ppl?#ppl saying headass stuffs about the HS aren't even Marika fans or engage too much in fandom to begin with#meanwhile u can't even find one youtube lore essay that says anything good about her#ppl are even trying to give Messmer's mother position to GEQ for no goddamn reason#like where is this overwhelming support for Marika at cuz as the active Marika stan around im not seeing it
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thepersonperson · 2 days
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Why the hell is JJK 270 called Dream's End?
JJK 270 being titled Dream’s End is so fudging ominous. That’s some Umineko type beat. I’m not sure if I should even judge this chapter as presented because of this. In fact, I'm holding off on posting the other analysis I had for today since I no longer am certain of what JJK 268–270 are.
There's two lines of thought I have:
1) Gege suffering from burnout and bad working conditions plus rushing has caused the writing to decline.
2) Gege still has a hidden ace saved for the final chapter and the weird writing is deliberate.
I'm going to humor Option 2, but only because the title of this chapter is called Dream's End.
(The most 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Using TCB scans and leaks. Click images for captions/citations.)
[Small Update: Follow-up Discussion]
Preface
"Without love it cannot be seen."
This is a phrase and philosophy I have borrowed from Umineko since I've started these JJK yapfests. It essentially boils down to 'discard your negative biases and try to examine things in good faith.'
JJK 268 & 269 have fudging tested that for me. I've been giving Gege and the characters a pretty hard time with the caveat of knowing how exploitative the manga industry is. I initially rejected the idea that these chapters were to be taken at anything other than face-value because of this. In fact, I cited the JJK 268 chapter title of Finale as a reason I've accepted things as is.
And with that same logic, I'm now doing the opposite... So hear me out! I've got some pretty good reasons to be doing this.
What's wrong with JJK 268–270?
There's a lot of things in these chapters that are fundamentally inconsistent with what's been established in throughout the manga. If we use Option 1 to explain these contradictions, these are last second retcons because Gege forgor.
Option 2? We're about to have the rug pulled the hell out from under us because the last 3 chapters have been delusions.
What first tipped me off to something possibly being wrong on purpose was the fate of the incarnated culling game players in JJK 270. Not too long ago it was established that the souls of non-sorcerers in vessels were unsavable.
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The souls are suppressed in a way that distorts them permanently or their consciousness is outright destroyed. They were gambling on Megumi's survival due to him being a sorcerer and Sukuna's incarnation method being unique. 99% of them will die and those who survive will likely be vegetables, so why is there a sudden gamble on their survival in JJK 270?
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It's such a neat and fine bow to tie this mess up that goes directly against existing lore. It's so ideal that it has me suspicious.
Brain damage from sorcery on non-sorcerers has been established as extremely taxing. I think about Gojo's Unlimited Void (UV) the most when it comes to this. Non-sorcerers were hit by it for 0.2 seconds and required medical intervention for 2 months to fully heal from it. Sukuna, the absolute strongest, tanked some of it and it affected him for the rest of the battle. ...And then we have Megumi who was under it for about 6 minutes and seems to have very little problems from it.
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This is bizarre. Someone who underwent the month long bath and UV without Reverse Curse Technique (RCT) should be struggling to even stand after waking up. Sukuna had RCT and the Gojo brain damage still took him out. This screams of inconsistent writing unless...this is a deliberate hint that something is amiss.
I want to draw attention to the panel Megumi's UV damage is addressed. Just about everyone has been seemingly waiting around in the same spot for him to wake up. It's a bit weird given that sorcerers don't usually do that. They usually get a move on asap. And after the destruction of Shinjuku and the Culling Game Players still running about, why would they take a breather to discuss their plans that worked?
But that's not what started bothering me about that panel after reading JJK 270. It's that characters who aren't in the room, start appearing without warning. Look who is behind Maki and to the left. It's Kusakabe. And to her and Yuta's right? Inumaki. So why is it that Hakari, Kiara, and Ino are in Kusakabe's place while Todo spawns where Inumaki is? (And Yuta is facing the wrong direction too.)
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That's pretty fudging weird right? You can chalk it up to Gege forgor but it doesn't stop there. Higuruma enters the discussion in a way that causes Yuji to pause.
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Why is Yuji surprised to see him? (And where the fudge did he come from?) Shouldn't he know of his survival by now? And why is he in a cast? Higuruma had learned RCT and fully restored his arms before leaving the battlefield. If he's conscious, then he should be able to heal himself fully no problems.
And that got me thinking... Why is Yuji still missing his fingers?
It was established that he kept his fingers unhealed to help with Yuta's plan. This means that if he won, he has no need to keep them missing. Yuji has fully regenerated missing chunks of his face, including his eye, and stomach. He has RCT just like Higuruma. But it doesn't end there either. Yuji's number of fingers on his left hand keeps changing.
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4 fingers, 3 fingers, dubious amount of fingers, 5 fingers. Once again, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but JJK 270 came out and the same problem started happening with Megumi's scars.
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The same mistake is made within the same set of panels and very big page. That's weird.
ONCE AGAIN, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but when these errors occur, like with Yuta mistakenly having his ring on in JJK 251, Gege will note the mistake outright. Gege has made no such comments for Yuji's fingers or the scars. This many “errors” in row when Gege has otherwise been careful with these features could indicate it really is on purpose. (Kind of like Sukuna's everchanging mask. The thing was just moving around and pulsing. That was deliberate not inconsistency.)
What does this mean?
I think it means what we are seeing isn't reality. After all, the most common way to tell if you're dreaming is being unable to count the number of fingers on your hands. Another way to tell is the distortion of faces.
Readers have noticed that something is wrong. The weird timeskips, the lack of lasting consequences, design inconsistencies, characters behaving like similes of themselves, death and pain being glossed over like it's nothing. It all feels so off. But it's still close enough to the original to be somewhat believable. ...Is that not what it's like to dream and not know you are dreaming?
Why is it that the chapter titled Dream's End ends with the hunt for a curse user whose ability is to distort the perception of reality?
Dreams and Delusions in JJK
We already know Gege weaves Buddhist symbolism and ideas heavily into JJK. I'm not an expert in Buddhism at all, so there's a lot of it that goes over my head. I decided to look into if dreams are significant in Buddhism and boy howdy are they. Quoted directly from the source:
"Dreams can be a message from a Bodhisattva, an ancestor, or a god, The intent of the dream may be to test the dreamer’s resolve: is he non-retreating (avaivartika) from Bodhi (enlightenment) even when sleeping? The purpose of the dream visit may be to communicate information vital to the dreamer’s well-being. The Buddha himself had five dreams of catastrophes, falling stars and worlds in collision just before his enlightenment. The dreams were sent to him not by a benevolent Dharma-protector, but by an malevolent sorcerer, intent on disrupting the Buddha’s samadhi and preventing his awakening."
In summary, (correct me if I'm wrong) dreams appear to be seen as another state of being just as valuable and impermanent as reality.
There's also this other bit I'll quote directly.
"The most common use of dreams in the literature of the Mahayana, or “Northern School” of Buddhism in China, Tibet, Japan, Korea, and Vietnam is to see dreams as a simile for sunyata, (emptiness) the hollow core at the heart of all component dharmas (things). For example, in the well-known Vajra (Diamond) Sutra, the Buddha taught that:
“All conditioned dharmas, are like a dream, like an illusion, like a bubble, like a shadow, like a dewdrop, like a lightening flash; you should contemplate them thus.”"
That's starting to sound like what Yuji's Domain does, right? He projects memories that did happen and mixes them with delusions and dreams. Sukuna and Megumi both experience this in full.
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It's incredibly suspicious that it hasn't been named yet. Yuji is the son of Kenjaku who has a domain based on the Womb Sutra/Realm...which is paired with the aforementioned Diamond Realm to encompass the entire Dharma. It's very likely this is what Yuji's domain is—a realm of dreams and reality combined as one.
Unreality Runs in the Family
When Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" as the Culling Games begin, Kenjaku explains her situation with this:
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What follows is a sequence that cannot be described as a dream. It seems to be a blend of reality and hallucinations. But that's not anything strange, Sukuna does it too with Kashimo in reverse.
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As you can see, both the positions of the characters and even the backgrounds change suddenly from reality to ??? and from sequence to sequence. It's all incredibly dream like.
Another strange thing about this space is Kenjaku creating it as a part of an escape route Binding Vow. You know, the kind Sukuna uses for Malevolent Shrine.
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What I want to draw attention to here is this reality-dream state somewhat requires consent (in the loosest possible definition) to appear. The person entering this state has to desire it themself. We see this with Jogo and Gojo who are mutually interested in having a relationship of somekind with Sukuna. (Same with Kashimo.)
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(It's also very hard to tell if they are dead or still in the process of dying during this.)
This is where the delusions Yuji projects differ. They are forced onto others when he is near death or severely injured, seemingly as a defense mechanism.
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And would you look at that...the syntax is identical for Todo and Choso's Brother Yuji Delusions. "At that moment, a memory was born inside X's brain...of a past event that never happened." It's kind of like how Yuji replaces Gojo in Megumi's memory to reach him. It's also very strange that Sukuna, Choso, and Jogo go "What is this?" to this in-between space.
My point here is that Yuji having access to this space has been hinted at since the start of this manga and that it was inherited it by blood. (Totally Not Kenjaku showing up with Takaba Mr. Reality Warping CT in JJK 270 supports my case too I think.)
What does this mean for JJK 268–270?
The battle ended in JJK 268. Of that I'm certain. What I no longer know is if anyone survived.
A common complaint about Sukuna's death is his lack of an afterlife scene. Everything ended so abruptly. And then Megumi wakes up.
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It's so jarring in out of place. ...But that's how all scenes involving the space between dreams and reality begin. Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" once and then again. Most of us have experienced those kind of dreams right? (They made a whole movie about it called Inception which is based on the movie Paprika.)
There's one other thing I need to draw attention to. Yuji's Domain shattered after Sukuna cast Domain Expansion (DE).
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When a sorcerer withdraws their domain voluntarily, it does not shatter. Gojo has demonstrated this for us in quite clearly.
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When a domain is broken by force, it will shatter and shards will scatter. When a domain is withdrawn, no shards are left behind. Yuta uses these facts as a part of his plan. In JJK 252, it's revealed by Kusakabe that Yuta shatters his own domain on purpose to trick Sukuna into thinking he won.
What this means is that some kind of violent action needs to be taken to shatter a domain. Yuji's domain is massive and his attacks only targeted Sukuna. What could've shattered his domain all at once? He's not had the time to practice shattering parts of it like Yuta.
Gojo has shown us what a uniform domain shattering looks like—it happens when Malevolent Shrine activates. (Please note that the sfx used for Sukuna breaking Gojo's domain is カシャア. It's the same one used for Yuji's domain shattering.)
I'm proposing that we've been in unreality since the end of JJK 266. Sukuna and Yuji are both severely injured, on the verge of death, and have a connection with each other. These are all conditions that trigger the space between dreams and reality.
And I must remind you that Yuji first triggers this event with Todo after a severe head injury. Right before Sukuna casts his domain, they do this to each other.
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Everything that has come after has been perfect for Yuji to a unbelievable degree. Everyone whose death was uncertain is alive and the living are getting exactly what they wanted. The effort behind it and the logistics are all missing. And yes a rushed ending can explain that, but that too can be part of the ruse.
Another massive complaint is that mourning has not occurred. Not for Gojo or Choso despite how much Yuji cherished them. It's like they're being willfully forgotten by the cast despite being crucial to their success in Shinjuku. It feels out of character, especially since Yuji is of the few that showed concern for them no matter what.
But if this is a delusion on the brink of death designed to bring happiness, why would Yuji think of the dead? He's always been so avoidant with it. When his grandpa is dying and trying to talk about his parents, Yuji tells him to shut up. When Nanami dies, he thinks of him then and then never again directly leading up to his talk with Sukuna. When Megumi tries to discuss Nobara's fate, Yuji ends the conversation as quickly as possible.
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The only people in this world are the ones who may or may not be dead. He saw Yuta in Gojo's corpse. The only way that can happen is if Gojo is dead. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. Choso burned away before his eyes. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. He went through some of Megumi's memories and saw Tsumiki's corpse. Yuji has no choice but to believe it.
And since Tsumiki is the only person Yuji wasn't close with, she's the only death that has been outright acknowledged. But not for too long! That would make Megumi sad.
Another complaint is that Sukuna really didn't kill anyone in the final battle outside of those two and Kashimo. The dudebros call it Disney Kaisen. But the fairytale-like idea that everyone is ok? Todo was the one who put that idea in Yuji's head.
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And Yuji has always been one to fall to story-like logic when things look like they're finally wrapping up.
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"And then everything will be just fine." (Yuji before the worst possible outcome for both him and Megumi happens.)
This is similar to the line Gakuganji uses in JJK 270. "Everything is fine." This line is the whole reason I sat down and wrote this all out without stopping. I know Gakuganji. He'd never say that. This man has been in a state of worry over Jujutsu Society since his first appearance. He doesn't even fully believe in Gojo's cause as someone who values tradition. He's a stickler for details and will do everything in his power to ensure stability. For him to toss Sukuna and Tengen's remains in a shrine and call it a day? Who is that? He's changed but not that much.
And so I compared the raws.
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It is very much the same 大丈夫 (Daijoubu). These are Yuji's words.
What I'm proposing is that JJK 267–270 are Yuji's delusions of the happiest possible ending. It's a picture perfect little end where all the trauma and death has no effect on the living and people move on like nothing happened. I don't know if this means he's dead or if Megumi's dead or if they're all dead. But what I'm seeing now? I don't think it's real.
Reexamining JJK 269
CW: Brief discussion of suicide.
Even if this turns out to be a part of the smokescreen, I'm always going to hate JJK 269. But I do want to give it some grace under the assumption this chapter titled Examination (which can also be translated as Reflection) is about Yuji's guilt. Both him and Megumi's tbh. I think their feelings for each other and their situations are driving these delusions. That's one thing about this space that's real—the feelings behind them.
Yuji has a lot of guilt surrounding his existence after ingesting Sukuna, Megumi does too. Straight up Yuji has been seeking death over it since JJK 9.
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He struggles to forgive himself for being the centerpiece to violence he had little to no control over. The only thing that upsets him more than that is knowing that his death will break Megumi's heart. He doesn't want Megumi to feel any guilt for it whatsoever.
The kicker is, Megumi already knows Yuji is planning to die. And he wants to do everything to rid him of that guilt. Up until they connect inside of Yuji's domain, they were unaware they shared the same goal for each other.
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And that's what JJK 269 is. It's a very cold and harsh breakdown that allows them to forgive themselves. Blame is passed around and ultimately pinned on a combination of Gojo and Kenjaku. (It's really weird Sukuna isn't blamed either, but that's not the point of this for now.)
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Kusakabe's comment is especially harsh. Telling Yuji point blank he should've died and that both sides on the issue were valid? He may have believed that to an extent, but he made a point of not telling it to his face. Why have a whole chapter discussing how kind he is only to turn around and do this?
If this is all a delusion, a manifestation of Yuji's guilt and trying to absolve himself of it for Megumi's sake, that makes sense. This version of Kusakabe is what Yuji feels guilt over the most—Everyone's lives being better if he died.
In the same breath Kusakabe tells them to solely blame the adults. It's very reminiscent of Nanami telling Yuji that being a child is not a sin.
It should also be noted that every single time Megumi tries to apologize for being possessed, he's stopped. Maki tears into Yuta without checking in on him, but she asks if Megumi is ok and tells him to not blame himself. JJK 270 is full of this too. He tries to apologize to Tsumiki at her grave and Shoko tells him not to sweat it. He tries to apologize to Hana and she hits on him instead.
This delusion is crafted out of love. It allows Megumi to live in a world where he can move on from the guilt surrounding his possession and saving Yuji. It's all Yuji has ever wanted for him. And now that Yuji knows Megumi wants him to forgive himself, he has no choice but to do that too.
It's a perfect ending for Megumi that's too good to be true.
It must be a dream...
There's another thing I can't reconcile about JJK 269 unless it's a delusion—Todo's explanation for Yuta's plan. It's another one of those glaring contradictions.
In JJK 269 Todo claims Boogie Woogie can't target Maki. But in JJK 259? Todo makes plans with Mei Mei knowing that it works with her.
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Either Todo lied...or Yuji never fully knew the plan and that Boogie Woogie could target Maki. Otherwise she would be dead. Her surviving Sukuna's flames would be impossible.
I've already talked about how Yuji believing those who may or may not be dead are alive is Todo's doing. He's always been the one to save Yuji from his breakdowns. But let's talk about his speech in Shibuya.
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"Looking for meaning or logic in death...can at times defile the memories of those we've lost!"
Everyone who has read these past 3 chapters has really felt the defiling of Gojo's memory. And it was all in service to a strange logic that helped them cope with all this death. Acknowledging how massive Gojo's sacrifice was would riddle both Yuji and Megumi with immense guilt, so it's best to ignore it for Megumi's sake. (And perhaps that's why Yuji replaces Gojo in that memory.)
"What have you been entrusted with? You don't need to answer right now. However... Until you find your answer, never stop moving."
In a way, JJK 269 is an answer to the question Todo proposed. Yuji was entrusted with saving Megumi. Saving Megumi requires Megumi and Yuji forgiving themselves. And Yuji won't stop moving until it's done. All these time jumps and rushed developments are Yuji moving Megumi forward. He's getting that happy ending even if it's to the detriment of everything else.
What about Sukuna?
When Sukuna respects his opponents and they have a connection, he gives others these dreams before they pass. He's been very impressed by Megumi since JJK 9. It's not out of the ballpark for him to allow Megumi to die satisfied in the way Gojo did. Yuji also seems to understand that Sukuna was manipulated by others just as much as he was. I think that's why Sukuna is spared of the blame for the most part.
I don't think Sukuna won. He's probably dead. But he did warn Yuji not to underestimate him. I think the worst absolute last fudge you to Yuji he could give is this happy ending dream before ripping it all away as he dies.
In Conclusion...
I'm not sure that we're going to get that happy ending. Reggie Star warned us not too long ago.
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"...it all comes down to a sorcerer's lies."
Reggie is a lot like Sukuna here, outwitted by modern sorcerers and dying to someone he loathes. Sukuna is good at tricking people. He let Gojo think he won before tearing it all away. Yuta did the exact same thing to him. Or did he?
"Can you do me a favor? After all, you've killed me. Let fate toy with you, become a clown, then die."
If the last 3 chapters are delusions...Megumi will be playing the part of a clown.
Gege said the manga would end with either 1/4 or 3/4 of Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and Gojo surviving. This of course, could be changed throughout its development, but Gege said the manga is ending in its original vision. There's a real chance that it's only Yuji or Nobara surviving.
Remember, Gege is a troll first and foremost. Somehow Gojo was revived, but in the worst way possible (Yujo). Somehow Gojo did tell Megumi about Toji, but in the worst way possible (dead man's final letter).
Gege also said this about the final chapter:
"I am working hard to create a final chapter that will (hopefully) satisfy as many people as possible who have supported Jujutsu Kaisen. So everyone, please bear with me!"
I can't think of a better way to appease everyone than by making the last 3 chapters nothing more than dream.
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5sospenguinqueen · 2 days
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Love You FURever - Toto Wolff x Vet! Reader
Summary: When Toto marries a vet, he realises his life consists of yelling about cars and fostering injured animals.
Fluff. Humour. Pinterest pics.
Requested: Yes by anon. Sorry this is only a small one
F1 Masterlist
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ynwolff just posted
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ynwolff some friends from work
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maxverstappen1 sassy and jimmy said they’ve never enjoyed a vet visit so much
→ ynwolff bring them back anytime! such lovely cats
user toto’s plan to get max to mercedes is by making his wife befriend his cats liked by ynwolff
→ user ahah she liked. she’s so funny
lewishamilton roscoe says he can’t wait for his check-up
→ ynwolff i can’t wait to see my sweet boy
→ georgerussell63 i miss when i was your sweet boy
→ ynwolff i’ve been around you too long. you stopped being my sweet boy last year
albon_pets any room for more friends?
→ ynwolff there’s always room for f1 pets
→ user this just makes me think she set up her own clinic purely so she could look after the f1 animals
→ user agreed because she attends every race where a pet is so she can be on hand for them
charles_leclerc this is my sign to get a dog
→ user yes! charles dog dad era needed
mercedesamgf1 i thought we were friends… but you haven’t visited us for ages :(
→ ynwolff don’t make me tell my husband that you’re emotionally blackmailing me
→ mercedesamgf1 he told us to (and there’s no proof if we delete the comment)
→ ynwolff (i have it printed out)
→ user omfg she’s defo the funniest wag
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mercedesamgf1 boss man hard at work
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ynwolff tell him not to look so serious. he’ll scare the children
→ totowolff my love, i can see your comments.
→ ynwolff when did you do this? why do you follow mercedes and your drivers and not ME!
→ user toto sleeping on the couch later liked by ynwolff
kimi.antonelli 😊
user i hope he’s trying to figure out how to fix the shit box that is the W15
user he’s such a grandpa with his tied sweaters
→ totowolff i am not a grandpa.
→ ynwolff so when you were complaining about your back aching and begging for a rub?
→ user i bet he doesn’t act like a grandpa at home, that’s how they ended up with a 6 year old
→ georgerussell63 guys, he can see these comments now fyi
user definitely the hottest team principal liked by ynwolff
→ totowolff with the hottest wife.
→ user omg they’re so down bad for each other that he’s breaking pr rules for her
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wolffcare boss of the month
933 comments
ynwolff i paid them to post this. literally
→ wolffcare that only makes it like 5% less true
roscoelovescoco vets of thes years
charles_leclerc leo is looking forward to his first trip to the vets tomorrow
maxverstappen1 would recommend
lewishamilton 10/10
alex_albon the cats are begging me to make them fat so they have a reason to come visit you
→ ynwolff stop feeding them cheese
user why are all the f1 drivers here?
→ totowolff because this is my wife.
→ user when he claims you
→ user girl bffr
→ user starting to feel like toto only made an insta so he could join the drivers in praising her online
mercedesamgf1 if the w15 was an animal, we would trust you with it more than toto
→ totowolff my office. monday. 9am.
→ mercedesamgf1 crap
→ ynwolff they were complimenting me, my love
→ totowolff fine.
→ totowolff @/mercedesamgf1 make that 10am.
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ynwolff my best friends for the weekend
3,311 comments
user omg the fact that she cropped out toto
totowolff liebling, are we no longer friends?
→ ynwolff you left your wet towel on the bed again so no
→ user oh so it’s not just my husband
→ user even millionaires piss off their wives
→ totowolff *billionaire.
roscoelovescoco my favourites grand prixs buddy
→ ynwolff my favourite bulldog
georgerussell63 offended that i’m not in this
→ ynwolff toto, your child is pestering me again
→ lewishamilton actually, i’m a little offended that I’m not in this either but bono is
→ ynwolff omg lewis i’m so sorry. i'll dedicate a whole post to you this weekend
→ georgerussell63 wow
user jack is so cute. he’s the perfect combination of toto and yn
→ totowolff yn did a great job, didn’t she?
→ ynwolff stop trying to convince me to have another
→ user omg he’s trying to get her to have more!
mercedesamgf1 we love having the three of you in the garage. brings us more luck
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totowolff just posted
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liked by mercedesamgf1, ynwolff and others
totowolff gentleman, if you fall in love with a vet, she will give you the best family. but far too many animals in your home
4,477 comments
mercedesamgf1 the cutest family 🩵
lewishamilton is this the puppy that was going to be put down?
→ totowolff yes. yn rescued him and i couldn’t say no.
georgerussell63 so that makes one child, three cats, two hamsters, two cows and a puppy. what’s next?
→ ynwolff i really want a pig but toto says he doesn’t like the noise :(
→ user isn’t he trying to get you to have another baby? how is that noise okay?
albon_pets we should open up a zoo together
→ totowolff don’t give her ideas!
charles_leclerc omg when can we meet him!?
→ ynwolff he’ll be at the next couple of races
f1wags what a lovely picture of yn and jack
ynwolff you shouldn't call your son an animal. he’s only a little feral. he gets that from you
→ totowolff i watched you tear into a steak yesterday. not sure i’m the cause.
→ ynwolff uh, you were the cause of my craving for steak
→ totowolff who knew getting you pregnant made you such a carnivore.
→ user pregnant?!
→ user baby #2?!?!
→ user definitely not a grandpa
→ ynwolff toto!
→ totowolff this is why i didn’t want an instagram!
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Requests open! Now include Franco Colapinto and K Mag
Tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius
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ozzgin · 1 day
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I was 100% thinking of the Shinsengumi when the brainrot struck, but let us assume a more generic, unnamed circumstance for this. Random, uh, elite group of swordsmen working for the shogunate in the Edo period. Here's the awkward, horny himbo I had previously mentioned. Content: female reader, historical setting, crossdressing, NSFW
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Yandere!Captain commands his group with an iron grip. Many people in the Capital know his name, whether it's fellow warriors or petty merchants, and not without reason. His unmatched skill with a sword had even reached the ears of the court, and he was quickly appointed as the head of a newly formed group of samurai meant to maintain order in the city.
As if keeping hot-blooded thugs under control wasn't enough, he is now stuck with an even bigger issue: you.
"We can't have women in here", he declares with a grimace.
"I can pretend", you counter stubbornly, pulling your hakama pants up by the sash, almost in an act of defiance. "In fact, I don't see any woman here. I came to apply."
Yandere!Captain’s reputation does not only revolve around his intimidating strength. Among his underlings, he is known for being completely and utterly uninterested when it comes to women. Will he join his group for drinks after a long day of work? Absolutely. But that’s where the fun stops. When the others begin to slip away with smiling courtesans, he remains at the table with a somber countenance. It is a running joke that nothing can deter this man from his duty.
Thus, your presence at the headquarters should make no difference. He had to begrudgingly accept that you spoke the truth when you'd said you can handle a sword. It's not uncommon for women to keep a small tanto underneath their obi for additional protection, but your knowledge doesn't stop there. You arrived with your own katana and backup wakizashi, swiftly proving their worth upon your first city round when you slashed the arm off a street hooligan.
Well, that's one less worry for the captain. Except, to his great shame, it's not as simple as that. He is the only one aware of your secret, which means that he is the only one available outside of working hours. He was terrified to discover the hesitation in his hands when bandaging your ribs after a stabbing incident, or the halt in his step when he happened to find you switching to a night gown. Oh, how deplorable! Have his morals crumbled into nothing? His latest perverted thought nearly caused him to draw a blade across his stomach.
It is with this faltering confidence that he greets you before the bath one evening.
“You don’t have to do this”, you tell him. "I can wait until you're done."
His struggles haven't escaped your observant eye. You were initially amused by his rather obvious awkwardness; then, a certain idea insidiously made its way into your mind, impossibly tempting: for how long could he keep this façade?
You find yourself going out of your way just to tease your poor captain, perhaps secretly hoping he'll soon break down and give in to his yearning.
“They will become suspicious if you never join us. I do not care for your nudity. Undress at ease”, he says, throwing away his own towel and lowering himself into the hot water. “Get in whenever you want.”
If he insists.
You nonchalantly follow suit, sitting across from him with your arms resting against the rocky edge of the hot spring. You can tell his eyes have wandered involuntarily. His face is red, and he’s wearing a humiliated frown.
“You’re awfully quiet, Sir.”
His lips are pursed indeed. The tall man shuffles briefly, avoiding your gaze. A smirk crosses your features as you decide to approach him.
"In fact, I'd go as far as you say that you're in dire need of help."
To your surprise, he doesn't protest when your hands stray to his lower half, feeling up and down his erection. The small grunts escaping his mouth encourage you to pick up the pace, now equally aroused.
Soon, you feel his heavy arm wrapping around your waist, forcefully throwing you out of the water and onto the cold ground. You open your mouth to complain, but it's quickly shut back by his hot lips, suckling and biting in a desperate hunger to have you.
“It’s improper for a subordinate to take the lead”, he finally says in a low, breaking voice.
He can only hope no one else decides to use the hot springs, though that’s as far as his concern currently goes. He’s much too preoccupied with other pressing matters, holding onto your folded legs for support as he thrusts into you in a depraved, delirious need. His movements are jerky and erratic, with an almost predatory glimmer in his eyes. You wonder how often he imagined this happening. All of his shame and guilt, coming undone at once.
Days later, during one of the hangouts, you find him whispering to one of the courtesans.
“What, you suddenly have a taste for women now?” you question discreetly, unable to hold your tongue.
You’d hoped to be on the receiving end of any future lust-driven gestures from the captain, not some common worker.
He appears to hesitate, twiddling his thumbs and glancing away.
“I was just…asking how you properly please a woman”, he finally confesses.
If he’s going to continue fucking his subordinate behind everyone’s back, he may as well do a good job while at it.
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[More Original Works] | [Yan!Swordsman Concept]
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lucimaaie · 3 days
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we ✧.* tlou
pairings - santa barbara!ellie x reader
summary - ellie promised herself she wouldn’t get attached to anyone after santa barbara, look how that turned out.
warning - angsty, not proofread cause i wrote this pretty quick, short (as always),
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After Santa Barbara, Ellie had no plan for the future. She’d left Dina and JJ and let Abby go. She knew would still have nightmares and the pain wouldn’t leave her. What else was there to do?
Maybe that was the reason she fought you as you tried to take care of her. “Leave me alone!” She said as you’d tried to help her up from the water, raising her arm around your neck. Thinking about it now, the memory of her weak attempt to tussle you made her laugh.
You fought as hard as she did despite being starved and traumatized yourself. She didn’t know your story, just that you were the only one who didn’t want to kill her as soon as you came out of that crowded cell. You knew that she was immune and that was it. Nothing else was important in the moment. Nothing she wanted to tell you anyway.
You took care of her so much she started to feel guilty for not returning the favor. Cleaning her wounds, taking first watch, giving her whatever food you two had left. Ellie questioned whether it was pity or too good to be true, that you’d try something the moment she relaxed. But as she got stronger, nothing bad happened. You cared for her all the same.
So she cared for you. She watched your back and let you sleep a bit longer since she knew her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She held you the way you held her when she awoke screaming. Gave you light kisses everywhere to distract you (and her) from a haunting past she knew nothing of. Conversations weren’t your speciality. You didn’t know a lot about each other, but you knew each other.
Eventually, you got lucky and found an abandoned cabin far away from Santa Barbara and quickly settled in. It wasn’t big and there was one bed, but it was shelter. Ellie didn’t want to call it home just yet.
“We should move south.” Ellie blurted, shaking the snow off her boots onto the porch. She could already hear your lecture about letting the cold in, but that wasn’t her focus. Did she just say we? “I mean, nevermind. Here’s fine.” It wasn’t. It was cold as hell and she was tired of the cold she’d been in her whole life.
“No, why south?” You said as you adjusted the small sticks that provided at least a little warmth in the small space. Ellie came to sit down next to you, leaving no space between you. She looked at you, admiring how the orange light shone on your face.
“It’s hotter.” She held your gaze as you listened intently. “Probably make hunting easier.” Ellie knocked her shoulder into yours without much force.
“You ever been south?”
She shrugged before shaking her head. “Nope.” She looked at the fire. That might be a downside of south. No more needing to snuggle up to you to not freeze to death. South you probably have to give each other some space to cool off. “Was just a thought.” She scratched her ear. “What’d you do while I was out?”
“Counted our supply. put on the fire. cleaned our clothes. a bunch of nothing.”
“What about eating?”
“uh-no. forgot that part.”
“Course you did.” She sighed, rising to her feet and look around for the bag you two stuff all cans in. All your belongings in the cabin were generally pre-packed in case you had to run, but still the fact that you’d been able to accumulate these things together made her feel something she couldn’t describe. Annoyance was part of it. that she got so attached to you after she promised herself she wouldn’t. that it just complicated things. But that already happened the moment you’d kissed and let things go further.
“here.” She used her knife to open the can of beans and sat back next to you, handing them over.
“you do know we sleep in the same bed, right?” You hesitantly took the can and swished them around with the spoon.
“trust me i know, but i don’t need you losing body fat and clinging to me like a koala.”
“you’ve never even seen a koala.” You said, taking a bite of the beans. not bad but not good and most importantly not expired. You set the can down in the middle of you, signaling that you wanted to share. She shook her head and sighed as you pushed the can closer to her, your eyes saying ‘please.’ She took a small bite just to appease you and shoved it over to you. “just shut up and eat.” she swiped her thumb over the edge of your lip. “and stop eating like that. we’ll get you more food tomorrow.”
Hours later, ellie shot up in the middle of the night, her heart feeling like it would burst out of her chest at any moment. She choked on her own breaths as she buried her head into her knees. “it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real—“ She mumbled the same words you did when you saw her like this.
“ellie?” You sat up as well, watching her with concerned eyes. She started to sob as she heard your voice, whether out of fear or relief you didn’t know but you didn’t give it much thought as you ran your fingers through her hair, letting her cry in your lap.
Eventually her tears stopped, leaving her with a pounding head and the comforting silence you provided. Her head rose from your lap and she pulled you into her, not willing to let go. Her head rested on your shoulder as her hands roamed under your shirt. There were no words for a while.
When there were words, they came quietly. “el?” you whispered. She didn’t respond for a while, still stuck in her swarming thoughts. “yeah?”
“where are you from?” It felt like a random question to ask, but there was no way you were gonna ask what she dreamed about.
She blinked for a few seconds, surprised. It was a simple question, yeah, but it could lead to other questions. she was scared to answer and ask back. “boston, i guess.”
“oh.”
“why’d you ask?” She let her head fall back on the pillow and tugged on your shoulder, silently asking you to turn around. And you did, facing her.
“i guess i just realized i never knew that stuff about you.” You said, fidgeting with her hands as you awaited her response. It felt like some dangerous territory, you weren’t supposed to cross. That was weird, you already crossed other, farther lines. “should i have not asked?” You whispered, tentatively.
“no, you..” She cleared her throat. “you can ask.” She finally looked at you, eyes soft with fear, pain. “i just..i don’t wanna talk about it all.”And go back there, she wanted to say.
“you don’t have to.” You scooted closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder.
Elie wrapped her arms around your back, her legs around yours, and looked at you. She let out a deep sigh as her heart beat for a different reason this time. “we don’t have to talk about it all. not right now.” we, there was a we. she wasn’t making it up. “okay,” She kissed your forehead.
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thank you for reading!
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chosok-amo · 2 days
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warning. fem! reader, daddy kink! toji, fingering, degrading, you give him viagra.
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toji fushiguro has never felt this way before in his life. he’s always been a sexually charged man— always had a high libido, but this? this is becoming ridiculous. he’s not sure what the cause of it is, but he’s sitting at his desk at work. his fingers mindlessly type away at the keyboard, hand fiddling with the mouse, but his thoughts are only on one thing.
why on earth is he feeling so hot? fuck, and why is his cock so hard? why are beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead? he glances at the clock feverishly, muttering a curse to himself as he realises he’s only two hours into an eight hour shift. fuck, what does he do? what does he do?
the first thing he can think of is you, grabbing his phone with slightly shaky hands as he opens up your contact and presses on the call button. he glances around, making sure nobody in the office is close enough to hear, and listens to it ring. the moment you pick up, you hardly get a greeting out before he’s hissing into the receiver.
“alright, ya’ fuckin’ brat, what’d ya do?”
your response on the other end is a stifled giggle and a denial of responsibility on your part. he curls his upper lip, knowing immediately that that laugh means you do have something to do with this.
“don’t fuck around with me, girl, i know it’s your doin’. now tell me, what did you do, why is my cock so damn hard right now?”
you let out another small giggle, shaking your head even though he can't see you through the phone. you lean back against your pillows, stretching out comfortably as you reply in a light, teasing tone. “aw, poor baby. having some... trouble down there?” you ask innocently, drawing out the last word for emphasis. you can practically picture the scowl on his face, which only makes you grin wider.
“maybe if you're a good boy and beg nicely, i'll tell youuu..” you trail off suggestively, enjoying the power you seem to have over him in this moment. a thrill runs through you at the thought of reducing such a strong, confident man to pleading for relie— and all from the comfort of your own bed, no less.
he grunts, rolling his eyes at your innocent act. how you think you can fool him, he doesn't know. maybe because you're so fucking young? whatever the reason, it's working. he feels his cock throbbing in agreement with your suggestion, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
“beg, huh? alright then, princess,” his voice drops to a low purr, “on your knees for me, sugar. show me just how much you want to help your big bad toji.” he chuckles, shifting in his seat as he waits for your response. he knows you won't disappoint— not when there's fun to be had.
you smirk to yourself, quite pleased with how easily you've gotten under his skin. you sit up straighter, crossing your legs primly as you respond in a sweet, sing-song voice.
“ohhhh toji, you know i'd love to! but...” you draw out the word dramatically, “...i don't think i will. after all, i'm comfy right where i ammm.”
you giggle again, delighting in the frustrated noise he makes on the other end of the line. you can almost feel the heat of his glare through the phone, and it sends a delicious shiver down your spine.
“besides, didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to make demands? if you wanna play, you gotta learn some manners first,” you punctuate your words with a wink, even though he can't see it.
his eyes narrow, the annoyance clear in his gaze as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “well isn't that just fucking rich? demanding manners from someone who clearly hasn't learned them yet themselves.”
he lets out a huff, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. but despite himself, he can't help but smile at your antics. “fine then, brat. how ’bout this? how ‘bout i give you a little taste of what you're denying me?”
there's a pause as he takes a moment to adjust himself, the sound of rustling fabric filling the silence between you both. he clears his throat, his voice dropping lower still. “how ‘bout i take matters into my own hands instead?”
you bite your lip, trying to suppress the excited flutter in your stomach at his words. you can practically imagine the sight of those large, capable hands wrapping around his thick length, and it sends a wave of warmth pooling between your thighs.
“that sounds... tempting,” you admit, your voice dropping to match his sultry tone. “but i'm still comfortable here. and besides, i'm not sure how well you handle rejection...”
you let the implication hang in the air, knowing full well how much it would irk him. you can already picture the look of stubborn determination on his face— the same look he gets whenever he sets his mind to something.
he snorts, a hint of amusement lacing his voice despite the growing irritation. “rejection? from you? well, ain't that just a fucking shame. please, kid, you don't know the first thing about turning me down.”
his fingers drum impatiently against his thigh, the tension in his body palpable. “look, i'm giving you a choice here. either you get off that damn bed and come play with me, or i'll just have to find my own release. and trust me, it won't be pretty.”
there's a dangerous edge to his words, a promise of things to come if you continue to deny him. he's not used to being teased like this, and it's starting to grate on his nerves. but goddamn if it's not also turning him on more than he cares to admit.
you shiver at the threat in his voice, a thrill of excitement mixed with a touch of fear. you know exactly what kind of'release' he's referring to—and the thought of it has your core clenching with need.
“ohhh, I'm shaking in my boots,” you tease, trying to keep your voice steady despite the ache building inside you. “but you know what they say, baby... pride comes before a fall.”
you pause, letting the weight of your words sink in. “and honestly? i'm not sure i'd want to be around for the aftermath of your tantrum. seems like it might get messy...” you trail off, leaving the invitation open-ended. you're playing with fire, you know— but the thought of seeing him lose control, of witnessing the raw desire etched across his features, is too enticing to resist.
his patience snaps like a twig underfoot. “fuck it,” he growls, standing abruptly and pacing the room in agitation. “i‘ve had enough of your games, brat.”
he stops in front of the window, gazing out at the cityscape below as he tries to regain his composure. “listen up, kiddo. i’m coming over. and when i do, we’re gonna forget all about these silly little teases and get down to business.”
there's a finality to his tone, an unspoken command that brooks no argument. he's made up his mind, and now it's time for you to comply. “be ready,” he adds, his voice low and warning. “or else.”
your heart pounds in your chest at his declaration, a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling within you. you quickly scramble off the bed, your feet hitting the floor with a soft thud as you rush to prepare yourself.
“or else what?” you challenge lightly, attempting to mask the tremble in your voice. “you gonna spank me like a naughty child? or maybe you'll just have to punish me some other way...” you let your words hang in the air, suggesting all manner of punishments that send a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins. you know you're pushing him, testing his limits—but part of you craves the chaos that follows such reckless behavior.
he laughs, but there's no humor in it. “don't tempt me, girl,” he warns, each syllable dripping with barely restrained lust. “because believe me, when i get my hands on you, you won't be sitting down for a week.”
he hangs up without another word, leaving you staring at the phone in disbelief. seconds later, there's a sharp knock at the door, followed by the jangle of keys. he must have kept a spare set, you realize, your heart leaping into your throat as the door swings open and he fills the frame.
he looks pissed. and turned on. and maybe a little bit crazy. “hello, sweetheart,” he drawls, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him with a resounding click. “ready to pay for all that attitude?’
he stalks towards you, a predatory glint in his eye.
your breath catches in your throat as he approaches, the air charged with tension and expectation. you stand frozen in place, unable to tear your gaze away from the fierce intensity in his eyes.
“i... i don't know,” you reply coyly, tilting your head to the side as you feign innocence. “attitude's kinda my thing. what makes you think i'd want to change?” you take a step back, retreating until your back presses against the wall. the cool surface provides a stark contrast to the heat radiating off your flushed skin.
he closes the distance between you in two long strides, one hand slamming against the wall beside your head as he looms over you. his free hand finds your hip, gripping it possessively as he leans in close.
“oh, i‘ll make you want to change,” he promises darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “i‘ll make you beg for it, princess. i‘ll make you scream so loud the whole damn neighborhood will hear you.”
he punctuates his words with a rough grind of his hips against yours, the hard bulge of his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach. “sooo, what's it gonna be, sugar? you gonna be a good girl for daddy? or do i need to teach you a lesson?” his hand slides higher, skimming along your ribcage until his thumb brushes the underside of your breast.
a gasp escapes your lips at the contact, your nipples hardening instantly beneath the thin fabric of your top. you squirm against him, feeling the throbbing pulse of his arousal against your belly.
“i... i...“ you stutter, caught between defiance and desire. “daddy? who said anything about daddies.” your protest falls flat, though, lost amidst the haze of arousal clouding your senses. you arch into his touch, seeking more friction against your sensitive flesh.
“teach me then,” you whisper, a daring gleam in your eyes. “show me how a real man handles a naughty girl.”
a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, the sound vibrating through you. “with pleasure,” he purrs, his grip tightening on your hip as he pulls you closer. his other hand moves lower, slipping beneath your skirt to find your panties damp with anticipation. “seems like someone's eager for their lesson,” he taunts, circling his fingertips around your swollen clit.
he pinches the sensitive nub firmly, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. but when none comes, he smirks. “good girl,” he murmurs approvingly, his fingers continuing their torturous dance.
“now why don't you show daddy how much you want this?” he coos, leaning in to capture your bottom lip between his teeth. “bend over and spread those legs nice and wide.” a whimper escapes you as his fingers work their magic, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. you're already so wet, so desperate for more of his touch.
“please,” you breathe, the word falling from your lips unbidden. “i need... i need...” you trail off, unable to articulate the overwhelming hunger consuming you. instead, you obey his command, turning and bracing your hands against the wall. you look back at him over your shoulder, your eyes hazy with lust.
“like this, daddy?” you ask feigned innocent, slowly bending at the waist and arching your back. you reach back with one hand to lift your skirt, revealing the soaked patch of fabric clinging to your ass. “is this what you wanted?” you purr, spreading your thighs wider in blatant invitation.
a guttural groan spills from his throat at the sight before him. “fuck yes,” he growls, stalking forward to press himself against your exposed rear.
his large hands cup your ass cheeks, kneading the supple flesh roughly as he grinds his rock-hard erection against your panty-covered cleft. “such a pretty little slut for me,“ he praises, his hot breath fanning across your skin.
without warning, he yanks your panties aside and plunges two thick fingers into your dripping channel. “god, you're so fucking tight,” he grits out, pumping his digits in and out of you at a brutal pace.
he curls them slightly, stroking that spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “come on, baby,” he urges, his voice low and commanding. “ride my fingers like a good girl.”
a high-pitched moan tears from your throat as he penetrates you, your inner muscles spasming around his invading digits. the combination of pain and pleasure sends you spiraling into a frenzy of desire. “yes, yes, please!” you chant, pushing back against his hand shamelessly.
your pussy clenches greedily around his fingers, soaking them in your juices as he fucks you relentlessly. the sounds of your own arousal fill the room—moans, whimpers, the obscene squelch of his fingers moving in and out of your cunt.
“‘m going to cum,” you warn, your voice strained and breathless. “if you keep doing that, i'm going to cum all over your hand.”
a wicked grin spreads across his face at your confession, his thrusts becoming even more insistent. “then let go, sugar,” he encourages, adding a third finger to stretch and fill you further.
he quickens the pace, driving into you with a relentless rhythm designed to push you over the edge. “let me see how much you love being fucked by daddy,” he taunts, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own growing arousal.
the sensation of his teeth on your skin only heightens the pleasure coursing through you, making your orgasm that much more imminent. “that's it, just like that, gooddd, ” he coaches, feeling your walls clench and flutter around his fingers.
a keening cry splits the air as your climax crashes over you, waves of intense pleasure ripping through your body. your pussy convulses around his fingers, milking them for every drop of satisfaction they can provide.
“toji!” you scream his name, the single syllable carrying the weight of your surrender. your entire world narrows down to the feeling of his hand inside you, coaxing every last tremor of bliss from your quivering frame.
gradually, the aftershocks subside, leaving you limp and panting against the wall. “fuck,” you curse weakly, trying to catch your breath. “what did you do to me?”
a satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he watches you come undone under his touch. “just warming you up for the main event,” he teases, pulling his slickened fingers free from your spent pussy with a lewd pop.
he brings his glistening digits to his lips, licking them clean with a lascivious grin. “but we're not done yet, brat,” he says, his voice laced with promise. “it's time for daddy to get some attention.”
he steps back momentarily, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. his shirt follows suit, revealing the chiseled expanse of his chest and abdomen. he unbuckles his belt with deliberate slowness, letting you take in the full extent of his arousal. “spread those legs wider,” he commands, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants.
a shiver runs through you at the sight of his bare form, his muscles rippling as he moves. there's something undeniably primal about seeing him like this, stripped bare and ready for you. a shaky laugh bubbles from your lips, still tingling from the aftermath of your orgasm. you glance back at him over your shoulder, taking in the sight of his naked lower half.
“like this?” you ask, parting your thighs even further, exposing yourself fully to his hungry gaze. “is this enough for you, daddy?”
you watch as he discards the rest of his clothes, his muscular physique on full display. the throbbing bulge in his groin draws your attention like a magnet, its size promising pleasures untold.
“are you going to fuck me now?” you ask, tilting your head to the side and giving him a coy smile. “because i really hope so,” you added, your voice dripping with feigned nonchalance. “after all, ‘m just a naughty girl looking to satisfy her daddy.”
a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, his eyes darkening with raw lust. “naughty girl indeed,” he agrees, prowling forward until he's standing directly behind you.
his hands roam over your hips, gripping your flesh possessively as he positions himself at your entrance. “but daddy has other plans for you,” he whispers, pressing the head of his cock against your drenched folds.
he gives a slow, measured thrust, sinking into you inch by delicious inch. “feel that, sugar?” he asks, pausing to allow you to adjust to his size. "that's just the tip."
a gasp tears from your throat as he finally fills you completely, stretching you in ways you never knew possible. the sensation of being so utterly claimed by him leaves you breathless, your mind spinning with pleasure.
“oh god,” you moan, clutching at the wall for support. “you're so big... always so big,” you trail off, lost in the exquisite agony of having him buried inside you. he doesn't move for several long moments, allowing you to acclimate to his presence. the tension coiling within you is almost unbearable, each beat of your heart echoing the throbbing pulse of his cock pulsating inside your clenching walls.
“move,” you beg, finally finding your voice, “please, fuck me already.”
a smirk tugs at his lips at your plea, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. with a fluid motion, he begins to withdraw, only to slam back into you with bruising force.
each thrust hits deeper than the last, driving you further onto the edge of sanity. “like that?” he asks, punctuating his words with another punishing thrust. “does daddy feel good inside you?”
he sets a ruthless pace, fucking you with a precision that borders on cruel. every stroke sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your body, lighting up your nerves like fireworks on the fourth of july.
“you're so tight around me,“ he growls, leaning over your back to whisper in your ear. “so wet, soooo perfect.”
a strangled whimper escapes your lips as he hammers into you, the sheer intensity of his movements threatening to reduce you to a quivering mess. the sound of your bodies colliding echoes throughout the room, a symphony of carnal desires.
“mhm, oh god yes,” you moan, bracing yourself against the wall as he continues to ravage you. “so bigggg, daddy.” you reach back to grab hold of his ass, urging him to pound into you harder, faster. the sensation of his thick length splitting you open is overwhelming, sending jolts of ecstasy shooting through your veins with every brutal thrust.
“i can't...” you pant, struggling to find the words amidst the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. “i can't hold on much longer...“
a surge of possessive pride courses through him at your admission, fueling his desire to claim you entirely. “hold on, sugar,” he grates out, his voice rough with lust. “daddy's not done with you yet.”
he pulls back slightly, only to ram into you with renewed vigor. the angle of his thrusts hits that sweet spot inside you, triggering an avalanche of pleasure that threatens to engulf you whole.
“come for me again,” he demands, biting down on your shoulder to mark you as his once more. “show daddy how much you want it.” he quickens his pace, his hips snapping forward with abandon. the slap of flesh against flesh grows louder, the sound mixing with your cries to create a lewd chorus of carnality.
a keening wail tears from your throat as he strikes that perfect chord within you, sending you spiraling toward obliviation once more. the coil of pleasure inside you tightens, ready to snap at any moment.
“toji!” you scream his name, your voice cracking with need. “i'm gonna—”
your sentence cuts off abruptly as your orgasm washes over you, tearing through you with the force of a tidal wave. your inner walls clamp down hard on his cock, milking him for everything he's worth.
“fuck! fuck!“ you sob, riding out the waves of your climax, “’m cumming, ’m cumming!”
a guttural groan rips from his throat as your velvety walls spasm around him, the rhythmic squeezing pushing him closer to the brink. “that's it, baby,” he praises, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. “milk daddy's cock.”
he continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure until it borders on pain. “such a good little slut,” he growls, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. he yanks your head back, forcing you to arch your spine as he pounds into you mercilessly.
with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you. a hoarse shout tears from his lips as he finds his own completion, his seed spurting forth to paint your insides white.
the sensation of him filling you up, marking you as his, is indescribable. your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm, your legs growing weak beneath you.
“oh goddd,” you pant, collapsing against the wall for support. “you're so deep... so full, daddy.”
the warmth of his cum flooding your womb sends another ripple of pleasure coursing through you, extending your high well past its natural end. you can't help but push back against him, desperate for every last drop of his essence.
you lean back against him, feeling his strong arms wrap around your waist. the warmth of his body pressed against yours, coupled with the lingering throbs of pleasure coursing through your veins, is simply heavenly.
a satisfied sigh escapes him as he slowly eases out of you, his cock slipping free with a wet pop. he turns you gently in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest.
“feeling better now, brat?“ he teases, his voice still laced with the remnants of his satisfaction. “or do you need some more of daddy's special attention?” he nuzzles into your neck, planting a series of gentle kisses along your sensitive skin. despite the harshness of their lovemaking, there's a tenderness in his touch that speaks volumes about his affection for you.
“you're amazing when you come undone like that,” he murmurs, his hands roaming over your curves with reverence. “always so responsive.”
a contented hum vibrates in your throat as he holds you close, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. the tender kisses he plants on your neck send pleasant shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the intense passion of mere moments ago.
“i think i might need a little more,” you admit, tilting your head to grant him better access. “just to make sure all that pent-up energy is drained away properly.”
you thread your fingers through his hair, guiding his lips to the crook of your neck where you know he loves to suck and bite. “and maybe some cuddles afterwards,” you add, a playful glint in your eye. you press yourself even closer to him, savoring the solid warmth of his body against yours. your fingers finding his nipple, pinch the hardened bud in between.
a low chuckle rumbles in his chest at your request, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “cuddles, huh? you're really milking this ‘needy’ thing for all it's worth, aren't you?”
he captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your gasp as his tongue delves into your mouth. the nip of his teeth on your bottom lip has you whimpering into the embrace, your fingers tangling deeper in his hair.
breaking the kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, pausing to suck a dark bruise into your skin before moving lower. “as for that pent-up energy,” he murmurs, his hot breath washing over your collarbone, “daddy's got just the thing.”
he drops to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushes them apart. “spread those pretty legs again for me, sugar.”
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kisses4reid · 2 days
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not our scene | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, - part 1
summary - an undercover mission creates distance between you and spencer, but his hands on your waist closes it.
genre - fem!shyish!reader x spencer, forced proximity, fake relationship, awkward idiots, fluff
warnings - awkwardness, general cm violence and gore, spencer and reader are both awkwardly in love with each other and don’t know it yet, mentions of trafficking
w/c - 3.5k
a/n - was writing this in one part and realised i just couldn’t. *jennifer coolidge aoughhe* sorry that its a bit inconsistent with writing style, and its not my best. trying to get back into writing fics longer than 1k.
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A familiar scene, an unfamiliar circumstance. The breath mint you swirled around your mouth had now disintegrated in your surprised stillness, your boss Aaron Hotchner passed you a thick case file with an attentive glance. Spencer cleared his throat, “At parties?” 
“Yes,” your boss’ hard voice returned, “The girls are swapped at banquets and ballroom dances, disguised as simple partner swapping.” Aaron turned towards the large panel screen and motioned towards an ID photo of a balding man. “This is Quinn Webley, he controls all transactions and coordinates the parties and most importantly, security.” 
“That’s why Reid and Y/L/n will be undercover. No offence but you two aren’t very noticeable,” Rossi added onto Hotch’s explanation, earning a small snort from Morgan.
There was no doubt more reasons to be chosen than that. Morgan was too impulsive, Emily could get hot-headed, JJ wasn’t trained for it, and Rossi and Hotch simply had to make sure everything went well from the outside. You and Spencer were the best options for this type of case, not only because of your skill, because of the obvious chemistry that you and Spencer shared. “Now, you’re not to make contact with Webley, all you have to do is watch him and everyone else. Pay close attention to couples, older men in small groups, and to the dances that might take place.” Hotch was not giving you or Spencer a chance to object, or to deject the idea. This was set, no negotiation. Not that you would want to be replaced in this case, it was just the fact that you were: 1. A terrible dancer, and 2. Not the most extroverted person. You nodded along, opening the case to create a personal profile of the women who were trafficked, before the discussion had come to a close, and everyone left the room to start collecting their things. 
Spencer cleared his throat, bringing you out of your analysis to meet his warm eyes. Suddenly, the easy-going banter you and Spencer shared had evaporated, replaced by suffocating silence. He didn’t meet your gaze back, only muttering in the silence, “Can I assume you want me to take the lead on this one?” 
“Oh, yes please.” You smile smally, trying to melt the ice that had somehow solidified between you two. Spencer was awkward, introverted, preferred alone time, but you were shy, quiet, and verbally uncoordinated (and physically). 
He nodded and exited the room, sighing off nerves that had piled themselves onto his shoulders since finding out he’d have to go undercover with the one girl he didn’t want to ruin his relationship with. He didn’t think the case would ruin your friendship, but it could make it harder for him to keep it that way.
Spencer stood straight with Derek peering over his shoulder and into the mirror. Derek picked at some dust on Spencer’s suit jacket as the nervous boy attempted to loop his tie neatly. 
Derek chuckles under his breath and turns the boy by his shoulders to face him, lifting his strong hands to help Spencer with the dark crimson red tie. Spencer silently thanked him with a nod.
“What are you so nervous about, Spencer?” He asked, half joking half serious, “It’s just an undercover mission. You’ve done this plenty of times.” 
“Not like this,” Spencer quickly replied, “Not with…” Her. You. 
Derek opened his mouth slightly and nodded, finally understanding the true reason for Spencer’s bouncing leg and sweaty hands. 
“Don’t freak out too much okay? You need to act like you love her, which won’t be too hard- But you need to do it without looking like you’re afraid of her.” Derek finished tying Reid’s tie and patted him on the chest as a hype up, smiling at him brotherly like. He knew Spencer’s feelings for you, that he liked you. A lot. 
He didn’t know Spencer wouldn’t have to act like he loves you. Spencer bit the inside of his lip nervously and turned to the mirror again, taking his eyes over his slightly unfamiliar reflection. 
The suit is tailored perfectly to his body, making him look trim, lean, and tall. Derek handed him a black bottle of cologne and headed for the door, before a sudden question stopped him.
“Do you… do you think she’s too good for me?” Spencer looked at Derek with big eyes, blinking rapidly. The man stood in slight shock before laughing away the silence, shaking his head in disbelief. He knew Spencer wasn’t accusing him of anything, it was a genuine question. Spencer thought he was lesser, less than what you deserved - even if it was just for a night. 
“Pretty boy, I think she’s happier to be doing this than you know. I think she likes you- I know she likes you-“
“That doesn’t mean-“
“Uh uh uh. No. Trust me, Reid,” Derek opened the hotel door and gestured for Spencer to follow him, “If you don’t trust me, ask her yourself.”
The girls whistled loudly at you like a bunch of old men when you emerged from the bathroom. You spun on your heel (which was way too tall for your liking) to entertain the ladies, JJ clapping her hands together and Garcia smiling so hard you felt your own cheeks burn. 
“Why do fake couples always have to be straight, huh?” Emily joked, and you giggled back at her. You crossed your arms over your chest as you turned to face a standing mirror in the corner of the fancy hotel. 
Your body was wrapped in a silky red, floor length dress, with wide and long sleeves draping over your covered arms like a cloud surrounds a mountain. It cinched at your waist, and stopped at just the right length to expose your 4 inch, black heels. You couldn’t deny that you looked incredible, although your nerves were playing with your head. 
“You look stunning,” Garcia repeated what she said when she was doing your makeup - simple and accentuating - when she noticed your slight anxiety.
Dressing up like this and wearing makeup and styling hair? Not your thing. It’s not that you didn’t like it - you loved being girly. It was just your own insecurities and personal preferences that caused you to wear sweaters and sneakers (anything that wouldn’t bring attention to yourself). 
The girls knew this, and dressed you simply and modestly so as to not add to your nerves that an undercover mission usually invites, and you appreciated it greatly. Although the heels were really high.
You were especially nervous to present yourself like this in front of him.
That’s why you fiddled your hands together, why you looked yourself over in the mirror three times before leaving, why you let the girls completely take over your look. 
You walked out into the hallway, pushing some hair behind your shoulder and letting the other side drape, still getting used to walking in those heels, when you were met with more whistles and compliments. Aaron nodded at you, knowing how abrasive you were to the idea at first, and Rossi and Morgan both asked you to give them a spin - and you did. 
The encouragement lifted your spirits slightly, a smile exploding from your face as a soft blush covered it. This is probably the best you’ve looked in front of them. 
“Where’s her date?” JJ asked, she mentioned that Morgan had the job of matching Spencer’s tie but she didn’t trust him.
“Don’t worry, he’s got on the best dark red tie that we could find. He’s downstairs in the foyer.” 
You scrunched your eyebrows together before Hotch added, “You have to leave together just in case. Precautions, okay?” 
Spencer swapped the position of his hands at least five times in a minute, glancing at the elevator in the all too fancy hotel every time someone emerged from it. He adjusted his tie, and sniffed his wrists to make sure he smelt good for you. He always made sure of it, after you offhandedly mentioned to Emily how smells could either make or break your day. 
You had a lot in common with Spencer, other than the obvious career choice. You were both… weird. Talkative around each other, silent around others. Shy, but confident in your abilities. You both had your things - your’s is smell, his is germs.
And luckily, whenever you went to Spencer’s apartment to drop off or pick up a book, his place always smelt like cleaning products and cologne.
Though now, he smelt like cedar wood and smoke. You tapped him on the back, nerves rushing through you like a teenager on her first date. He jumps slightly, not hearing the last elevator ding in his own worries, and turns on his heels - nearly bumping into you. 
“Woah.” He let that simple word slip before he could even bite his tongue, and a red wash painted his cheeks and ears.
You looked stunning, and Spencer was simply awestruck. 
You pushed a straightened piece of hair behind your ears and smiled shyly down at your feet, not letting yourself look at him for too long in fear that you’d melt into a puddle. Spencer cleared his throat to contain himself, and held out his arm for you to thread your own through. 
“Are you okay? Your hands are shaking.” You ask timidly - very unlike how you normally were around him. You avoided taking his arm, scared he’d feel uncomfortable with the contact before he straightened his back and reluctantly pulled your elbow through his. 
“Just nervous, you look-“ He coughed, “Nice.” 
A smile slipped from you as you thanked him quietly, the two of you heading out the large foyer doors and towards a black limousine.
The ride was mostly silent other than the quiet music playing from the radio. And despite the large amount of room in the back, the two of you stayed conjoined at the hips. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re both nervous, maybe it’s the job.
Maybe it’s because you’re both going into a place you’d never purposefully enter. 
“You smell good.” You broke the silence, your knee tapping his. He brought his attention from the window to your face, now noticing the small amount of makeup that accentuated your already beautiful features.
“Thanks. You too.” 
Suddenly, Morgan’s playful voice cut through the weirdly comfortable silence, through to both of your earpieces. “Alright you two. Now, you both know you’ll have to be all lovey-dovey, no acting needed, but don’t over do it. We’re not trying to make contact with Webley, just to get close enough to watch him. If you lose sight of him, hit the dance floor, he and his wife enjoy moving around.” Spencer’s eyes don’t leave your face as you stare at the black floor in concentration. His hands start getting a bit sweaty and he has to clear his throat to coax himself into listening to Morgan. 
“And if he heads for the kitchen, let us know, we’ve got an officer that’s acting as a bodyguard at the back door that can tell us when he’s left.”
Spencer thanks him over the ear piece, holding down a small microphone under his cufflinks. Your hands fiddled with each other, threatening to chip off the nail polish Emily so carefully painted. Spencer felt his heart pump in his chest, but ignored it and took a small mint tin from the inside of his jacket, holding a small white pellet out to you. “Y/n,” he caught your attention and smiled at you sweetly, easing your nerves almost immediately. You took the mint from his palm, your fingertips tracing the lines on his palm softly before you popped it into your mouth. You didn’t have to ask how he knew you needed that, you had grown comfortable with knowing Spencer knew more about you than anyone else in the team. 
The venue was a mansion mixed with a theatre. There were expansive columns lining the outside, countless balconies looking out onto the cityscape, and gardens paired with ponds that were home to some unexpectedly calm swans. You and Spencer both stood there for a few seconds, taking in the architecture, as well as the amount of people entering and exiting the main doors. For a second, you felt giddy and childish. You weaved your arm under his and he let his other hand land over yours to squeeze it gently - he must feel just out of place but weirdly excited as you are. 
Don’t lose sight of the real priority here, Y/n. 
But it’s hard to do that when you’re entering the conjuring of your childhood dreams. 
When you start walking up the large stairs, your heels click and Spencer tightens his arm slightly, your stepping becoming a little uneven. These damn heels. 
“You okay?” He asked, one eyebrow raised slightly. His hair was combed back, his long locks more tamed than usual, but one curly strand just escaped and covered the left side of his forehead. It looked effortless, handsome.
“Um- Yeah, sorry. I’m not used to shoes like this.” You laughed like it's funny and Spencer continued to basically lift you up the stairs with no complaining.
When you stepped foot into the main foyer of the building, there were multiple chandeliers that swayed safely in the bustling movement of the quartz floor. There were multiple vases of red and white flowers, almost matching your dress, and multiple suited guards at every entrance and staircase. They smile at guests, and offer them menus and directions, and smartly conceal their weapons in case of intruders. Intruders being you and Spencer.
When Spencer leads you up to them, his hands finally still and confident, the guards smile at you both - offering you an extra look over that has Spencer angling himself to cover you. 
“Names?” One of them asked, pulling out a checklist from behind his back (you almost thought they were pulling out their small guns - you really were not confident in how to act… well… confident.) 
“Mr and Mrs Conner.” 
“First names?” 
First names? You weren’t given first names. Garcia had made sure that nobody else on the guestlist was by the last name of Conner. You could practically see the cogs churning in Spencer’s head - creativity wasn’t really his strong point. 
“Did you just ask for our first names?” You scoff, your voice becoming a bit whinier than usual, “You obviously live under a rock, there are no other Coopers.” 
The guard widened his eyes, scanning the list again and stuttering, “I’m sorry ma’am. You’re obviously- Have a good night.” The guard lifted an arm as an invitation inside, and you gave him a glare. Spencer smiled once you were both out of sight and squeezed your hand with his own. But there are no words, as you’re too taken aback by the sheer size and beauty of the room, if you could even call it that, to focus on the contact. Even larger chandeliers, expansive marble floors and painted ceilings with naked bodies. The warm lighting nearly convinced you that this was just some rich party that people get drunk at and talk about nonsense, but Hotch suddenly talking in your earpieces brought you out of the spell that the pure aesthetics had lured you with. “In the back left of the dance floor, you’ll see Webley dancing with his wife, talking to a pair of aristocrats. Try to get closer, don’t be obvious.”
You released a breath and Spencer adjusted his arms to intertwine his fingers with yours, causing you to meet his gaze in surprise. “We’re in love, remember?” His eyes creased with a smile, his thumb caressing the back of your hand in comforting patterns you couldn’t decipher. Oh, you couldn’t forget that. “Right,” you respond, straightening your back and walking with him towards the dance floor. 
His hands carefully rested on your waist, his fingers gripping slightly against the silky fabric of your dress. The contact made your skin burn, a permanent pink painting your cheeks and increasing whenever you made eye contact with the tall and undeniably good looking man you were dancing with. Spencer didn’t look anywhere other than you and the back left of the dance floor. You had almost grown bored of the nerves in your heart before you noticed something you didn’t see before. 
“Hey, your tie matches my dress.” You said softly, barely audible over the music that echoed around the hall. Spencer glanced down at his tie (thankfully still properly tied) and then at your dress. That was a mistake, because now his breathing is deeper and he can’t take his eyes off of you. 
Spencer nodded and sent you a small smile, “Morgan made sure of it.” 
“Didn’t that spoil it for you?” You asked, finally meeting his gaze. It looked deep, it looked… heavy. 
His swirling brown eyes shot electricity at you when he replied, “Why would it be spoiled?” 
You lowered your head away as you smiled sheepishly, “This is probably the nicest I’ve ever been in front of you. Probably wasn’t as special as I wanted it to be.” 
“You wanted it to be special?” You felt his fingers twitch on your waist as your own fingers twiddled with each other behind his neck. You lifted your face and found him clearing his throat, “I mean, it was still special. Although, I disagree with it being the nicest you’ve ever look.” 
You laughed, and it caused Spencer to crack a smile. 
“I show up to work bare-faced, in second-hand pants and sweaters two times my size. I feel like this is pretty good.” 
“You always look good.” 
You almost stopped your soft swaying with him in shock, and Spencer’s cheek reddened as if he was also shocked he said it. Spencer cleared his throat again, and bit the inside of his lip. 
The others couldn’t hear them right now. The music was soft, people chattered and to be honest, the whole mission had been erased from his mind. Spencer took a long, deep breath.
“I think you look beautiful right now, of course. But you’re still beautiful when you’re dressed like how you like to. I know what it feels like to not want to bring attention to yourself, and how sometimes your clothes can hide you. But…” Spencer stopped your movements with his hands lowering to your hips, he had been instinctively pulling you closer throughout the dance. “There’s nothing you could do, or wear, that could possibly take my attention off of you.” 
You felt your world stand still, although the blur of people didn’t seize, and fluttered your eyelashes at him unsure of how to respond. It was the most he’s spoken to you in one time - excluding random facts and the babbling you accept everyday.
“Spencer…” 
The tall man raised his hands to your waist again, the motion leaving waves of nerves to tumble over you, before he cleared his throat and started darting his eyes from yours to someone’s in the background. 
“Y/n. I think I saw Webley.” His grip only slightly tightened on your silk dress, his fingers curling slightly to move you across the dance floor slowly. You were definitely the more uncoordinated of you two. 
He moved skilfully across the dance floor, avoiding bodies and feet like it was rehearsed. 
“Not too close.” You muttered, Spencer’s attention flickering to you for only a second to nod in agreement. You need to watch him, not make contact with him. 
You grimace slightly, your ankle wobbling at an awkward angle for a second before you recover and-
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
You meet his eyes again, his own already burning a hole through you and your heels. 
“I’m fine, again it’s just the heels.” 
“They seem to be causing you a lot of harm,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and cleared his throat. Maybe he can distract you. “Did you know that heeled shoes were originally designed for Medieval Soldiers? They were made to make rising horses easier, putting a heel in the stirrups instead of your armoured shoe. And in the 16th century they weren’t supposed to be… to be seen…” He rambled and stopped abruptly.
He didn’t stop because you told him to, or you looked annoyed, or you lost interest. He stopped because you looked… too good to say anything. It made him nervous like a school boy seeing his crush in her prom dress - although he never got to experience that. It felt pretty close.
You tilted your head, a piece of straightened, silky hair falling over your shoulder. Spencer gulped, and before he could stop himself, he lifted a hand and twirled the piece in his pointer finger. 
It was like an optical illusion, something you know can’t be real, but intrigued you anyways. That’s what you felt, because whatever was happening right now could not be real. 
Spencer Reid looked entranced, hypnotised without knowing. And you looked red. 
“Th-they weren’t supposed to be seen?” 
Spencer snapped out of his trance but didn’t continue, only pulling you forward by the waist and moving that strand behind your ear. Your heart pumped, your ears matching the colour of your dress. 
He didn’t try to kiss you, even if he wanted to so badly. Instead, he lowered his lips to the shell of your ear and whispered, “Let’s go. Webley opened the kitchen door.” 
And your heart dropped.
taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna
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Text
Heart-Stopping
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Surgeon!Female!Reader
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: fluff
Summary: After a ten-hour surgery, all you want to do is go home and be with your husband. When he comes into the ER needing surgery, your entire world is turned upside down.
Square Filled: "Oh, don't worry, this blood isn't mine." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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You trudge out of the OR into the scrub room to clean your hands and arms. The surgery you were just in lasted an atrocious ten hours. You’ve gone for more, but this was so tough since the patient’s heart kept arresting and her blood vessels were so friable that it was hard to do any kind of stitches. Still, you managed to get her fixed and stable enough to be transferred to the ICU.
All you want to do is go home to your husband and cuddle until you fall asleep in his arms. He understands your job and how you can’t always be home with him. He’s in the FBI so he has the same demand even if he’s doing work that’s completely different. The reason your marriage works is that you two make it a point to call each other every day, plan an at-home date every week, a date anywhere that’s not your house every month, and have a small vacation every six months.
He’s your rock and you don’t know what you’d do without him in your life. He’s your biggest supporter and the love of your life.
You’re scrubbing away the sweat and grime from your hands when your pager goes off. You grab a microfiber towel and dry your hands before checking the pager. 911 ER. You toss the towel away and run out of the room hoping you can get to the ER in time. There is a patient who needs your attention and might die if you’re not there. It amazes you that you have so much energy after a surgery like that and maybe it’s because of the silent promise of saving as many people as you can.
You push the double doors open that lead into the ER and look around to see if you can spot the patient that needs you.
“Dr. Y/N! I need you to know that everything is okay…”
You can’t hear anything your resident says because all you’re focused on is your husband lying on a stretcher covered in blood. Your entire world comes crashing to a stop. You’re a very skilled heart doctor but it feels like your own heart is going to stop at the thought of your life without Spencer in it. His coworkers, Derek and Emily, are by his side without blood on their clothes.
“Y/N!” Derek grabs your shoulders and snaps you out of the silent panic you’re in. “He’s okay, I promise he’ll be fine.”
“What happened? Spencer!”
You rush over to him, and he grabs your hand gently.
“Oh, don’t worry, this blood isn’t mine,” he mumbles.
“What happened?” you ask Derek and Emily.
“There was an accident. He tried to save our victim and got caught in the crossfire. She’s right behind him.”
“Y/N, we’ll take care of him.”
You turn to see your chief of surgery and your best friend who has a determined yet empathetic look on his face. You can’t take care of your husband because he’s your husband so the only person you trust to take care of him is the chief.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Don’t let him die, please.”
“We go it. Go to Trauma One!”
Spencer is wheeled to the first trauma room just as the victim comes in right behind him. She, you can help. Spencer is wheeled into surgery to fix an injury on his leg while the general surgeon and neurosurgeon take the victim to surgery. If there is anything to be done on her heart, they’ll call you in. You’re stuck thinking about Spencer instead of being in surgery to take your mind off it. You leave Trauma Two and walk over to Emily and Derek who are talking to each other.
“What happened to him?”
“There was a car accident, the car the victim was in. They skidded on a patch of ice and the car slammed into a tree, ejecting the victim out of the windshield. Spencer was the first to her which is how he got all of her blood on him. Another car came around the corner and didn’t see the crashed vehicle, and they collided with it, sending shrapnel into Spencer’s leg. He lost a lot of blood on the way over here.”
“Shit,” you whisper with tears in your eyes.
“He’s going to be okay. You have a talented team of doctors here.”
“I know,” you nod.
There is no choice but to wait for Spencer to get out of surgery. When he is, they take him to a private room where you can sit with him. It takes twenty minutes for him to come out of the anesthesia, but he’s still pretty loopy from it.
“Hey, baby, how are you doing?”
You take out your stethoscope and check his heart and lungs, relief clouding your head when you don’t hear anything bad about it.
“Doctor… I need… I need some… some flowers.”
“Flowers? For what?”
“My wife. Her birthday is this weekend, and I want to get her flowers.”
Your heart swells happily at his little confession. He knows how much you love getting flowers. They brighten up even the darkest of places.
“It’s very important, please.” He rolls his head to the side and looks at you through hooded eyes. He doesn’t seem to recognize it’s his wife right in front of him. “I need you… Can you write her a card for me?”
“What do you want it to say?”
“I love her. Her eyes are pretty. She makes me so happy. Just say that.”
“Okay,” you grin with tears in your eyes.
Spencer’s eyes close and you sit next to his bed. You grab his hand and kiss the back of it, content with staying just like this until he wakes up.
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534 notes · View notes
00kittenz · 3 days
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── “ get to the car, we’re leaving ” ( lhs ) 🥃
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๑ In which Heeseung doesn’t take it lightly to you getting too close to one of the frat guys at a college party…
pair: jock!heeseung ㅊ thick gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, angst ??, fluff, mentions of drinking & smoking (weed), jealousy, upset heeseung but also soft, argument, hee almost fucks things up (relationship wise) + hot makeup s.x, spanking, shaking, fingering, oral (f. rec), piv, creampie | words: 2.6k
decided to make another jock!hee fic bc the first one i made got rlly popular ! i wanted to showcase more of what goes on in their lives and relationship lol, enjoyyy <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
you were chosen as tonight’s designated driver, per usual. one of your roommates invited you to her senior’s after exams party and of course you had to bring your significant other along with you for protection. though you weren’t planning on doing anything crazy, there was no way in hell heeseung wasn’t getting high tonight; plus with all the heavy drinks jay managed to sneak into his dorm, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten drunk either.
“jake, it’s your go !” heeseung slurs a bit, sipping from his red solo cup. “shit, my bad, it’s my win anyway.” jake places his play in a set of three on the table, a sly smirk fixed on his features, flexing his cockiness.
“oh, fuck you..” heeseung spits, dramatically tossing his cards onto the table, earning a light chuckle from you.
“where are you going ?” you watched as his body elevated from his last position.
“out of drink.” he pouts, ruffling his hand through your hair. “you coming with ?” his hand lifts yours in a way to pull you upwards.
“no.. don’ feel like it,” you gave him a soft smile, tapping his waist. “but make it quick !”
with that his slim body conjured into the kitchen, where a small bar had been made. everyone else who’d been playing terrible plays of poker kingdom were either now making out, drinking, smoking, or just left in general. yet here you are, bored out of your mind and couldn’t drink at all, pulling out your phone as you waited patiently for your boyfriend to come back.
it’s been 20 minutes… what could possibly be taking so long? that’s all that ran over your mind before you actually got up to go find him yourself. you feel like you need a leash on that boy sometimes.. scanning each crowd, different colonies of people in groups, some even scattered. that’s when your eyes landed on a familiar figure— jay, but this time he seemed free.
๑ ๑ ๑
“i really do have a girlfriend,” heeseung said loud enough for the random girl to hear over the blaring music.
“oh, trust me i wouldn’t take a guy as handsome as you to not be taken,” she spoke, “but it doesn’t seem like she’s here right now.”
he’s now come to realize that it had been awhile since he were waiting on his drink, and started to scan the area looking for you. you were with jay, a kind but natural flirt, hell, owner of this party. you asked him to help you look around for your boyfriend, since you were growing concerned. and he did so, checking everywhere even all the rooms.. once heeseung’s eyes bounced to your figure, he was visibly upset at what he saw.
“yeah no, fuck outta here” he scoffs, the drink became completely irrelevant to him now and ditched the annoying girl. you could be fucking around with his close friend as of now and that thought alone sobered him up to a peak. why the hell are they going into a room, at a party..? he knew his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and he may be a little drunk/high but he’s not stupid. he wanted to come up with a logical reason but he couldn’t, that’s all he could think as he stepped closer and closer to the door you and jay hid behind.
you both had vanished from the hallway of doors before he’d even gotten there, opting to check the bar instead, only to find the perky girl who’d talked to him before. heeseung was so confused, but it didn’t stop him from rummaging from room to room. only making him angrier that you weren’t in any of them, and neither was jay. his hand dove into the back pocket of his jeans to ring your number. when you answered, his voice immediately aired through the speaker.
“y/n, where the hell are you ?! ” he drunkenly grumbles. you only laugh, you couldn’t help yourself. “hello ? .. ” you laughed again.
when you began to worry about heeseung being intoxicated and wandering around a party full of girls the panic settled in quickly. so, jay being the gentleman nobody thinks he is, tries to ease your mind with jokes to cheer you up as you kept looking around. that being while you were still on the phone, struggling to answer. “hello?..”
“y/n, can you hear me ??” he says for the millionth time already, voice laced with aggravated undertones.
“hello ? who is this ??” you hadn’t checked the caller id and you were far too occupied with finding heeseung. the music was far too loud and as you couldn’t hear any responses, you just hung up.
“what the actual fuck…” heeseung was more pissed off than confused, he couldn’t believe you’d just hang up on him like that. were his suspicions actually true ??
๑ ๑ ๑
“wanna try the balcony next ?” jay suggests as he’s slowly running out of options of where he could be, he knew he had to be in this house somewhere— heeseung would never just up and leave without you.
“sure!” you nod, following behind him as he lead you outside.
meanwhile, heeseung’s driving himself to a new level of insanity from not being able to find you. he thinks of anywhere else you could’ve run to and the last and only place he hadn’t checked yet— the balcony. he could only hope you were out there or he’s going to be worried sick. his fingers curl around the handle of the sliding door opening it to a surprised jay, and an even more shocked, you. both of your eyes darting to heeseung as soon as his figure leaned into frame.
“get the fuck up.” heeseung’s eyes glared at your being in utter annoyance.
“hee, i was looking for you!” you followed as he said, capturing his arms in yours only to your surprise he’d let go.
“jay, do you mind ?” the extra had gotten the message quickly and he just headed back inside to his packed habitat.
“where did you go baby, i couldn’t find you..” you say, looking into his eyes in honesty noticing the atmospheres gotten heavy.
“where did i go?? y/n, where did YOU go ?!” his figure shifts, staring at you in utter disgust. his mind was taking him to all kinds of places, places he never wanted to see, think, or hear of.
“to look for you? i said that already.” your brows furrowed.
“hmm, that's crazy cause i was doing the same thing.” he wanted to cut to the chase. “couldn’t find me so you just wandered off with jay ?? huh?”
“what ?? is that how low you think of me ? heeseung ??” your hands reach your hips. you can’t help but be offended. your boyfriend thought you were jacking off with his friend of all people. you had a reason to be.
“i mean it’s what it looked like !” he crosses his arms across his chest as he gritted through his teeth. “knew you shouldn’t have worn this outfit, it’s too revealing, bet you were the talk of the whole night..”
“wow,” you scoff, your body now facing another direction. you couldn’t believe him right now, first he accuses you of being with jay and now he’s acting insecure all because you wanted to wear a cute skirt. you don’t wear those quite often so it took a lot of courage for you to, but now you’re just second guessing everything.
“i’m talking to you, y/n. look at me.” you were flabbergasted, talk to him ?? what about how he openly admits you would cheat on him, or how he’s criticizing you for simply wearing something out of your comfort zone.
“well, i’m done talking.”
“fine, get to the car. we’re leaving.” you completely ignored him but had done as he said. he was fully sober by now, you were sure. he followed you not so long after storming out of the front door and once in the car, he slammed the door behind him.
๑ ๑ ๑
the drive from jay’s place was filled with a weird tension in the air, you noticed heeseung giving you glances from time to time checking up on you, but you weren’t to budge until he apologized to you. he thought you were for the team, when he knows you’re his, and only his. the car pauses once in the alignment of your driveway. to your dismay, you hear the doors locking while you’re still inside.
“let me out, hee.” you sigh heavily, gripping on the door handle.
“babe, can we talk first..” you couldn’t believe it, he wants to talk to you ?? really ?? the ‘friend fucker??’ how funny, you glare at him.
“what heeseung, i’m really tired.” you avert your gaze into the window.
“i’m sorry, i-” you cut him off. “you’re sorry ?! wow ?? when you should have been earlier ?? where was this apology earlier heeseung, when you actually hurt me.” your voice raised a notch.
“you know it was the heat of the moment, what’d you want me to think?? ‘oh she’s definitely not with the flirtiest guy on campus, yeah he totally doesn’t wanna fuck my hot girlfriend’.” he mocked a slight pitch change in his voice.
your mouth gaped. “are you really sorry or do you just wanna sleep next to me ??” you asked, you knew he couldn’t sleep alone, he needed you by his side.
“how about both. you know i mean it y/n. you’re just upset.” he plays with the steering wheel.
“dont tell me what i am, now let me out.” you grimace.
he clearly got upset by this, “you aren’t even trying to ease up the problem here ! and then later on you know you’re gonna pin everything on me. knowing damn well i tried fixing things.” he wavered his hands in the air as he spoke, he was kinda right yet you just didn’t like the way he was going about it. yes, he is trying to apologize, but you couldn’t help but still be mad.
“i get that, thanks for your apology.. but i don’t like how you spoke to me earlier.” your eyes fixate on his own. you felt the air tighten, you always did. there was genuine remorse in his eyes, you felt it.
hell, your man had the prettiest face you’d ever seen. and hell, he looked so sexy when he’s mad, and especially now, when he’s sorry. you simply wanted to tear him apart. his hand reaches yours and as he got the chance he wanted to show you how sorry he truly was. the softness of his lips caressed yours. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t wet right now. how couldn’t you be…
๑ ๑ ๑
“mm.. hee ..” you whined as the weight of his lips on yours lightened.
“i don’ wanna apologize to you in here,” he finally unlocked the doors. “get your pretty ass upstairs.”
his eyes traced your body, longing towards the way your pretty thighs look.. then gazing up at your ass as you complied, leaving your skirt riding up it’s soft exterior. an immediate tent grew in his pants. the one thing he loved most about you body wise, had to be your ass. it molded into his hands just perfectly. and it replied to any friction he applied to it on command. he loved how red and bruised it got once his hands launched across it’s surface. and how he’d sometimes be able to see his own handprints. you were the sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on.
๑ ๑ ๑
“nggh, hee.. yes, please..” you drool out at the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he pounded against you. “fuck me baby, fuck me!” you yelp when you feel his nails gripping into your waist.
“you want it baby, huh, you want it so deep in you don’t you, huh ???” his lips caressed your neck as he grabs onto your leg to inch himself more into you.
“you’re close? mhm, you like how i fuck you sloppy? such a dirty slut for me ..” he chuckled as he felt you clench around his length at his dirty words. “open your mouth. when i speak to you” his fingers lazily run circles around your clit.
you couldn’t mutter a single word, he’d fucked you completely dumb, your orgasm swelled up so deep inside you. you felt like you could puke but you didn’t want it to stop. you never wanted it to end.
“hah.. shit baby, ‘m gonna cum..” your nails grip his forearms, your arms pushing your boobs together caging them in.
he groaned at the beautiful sight below him, leaning down onto your nakedness caressing one of your nipples with his tongue. your stomach tingled, by the time you knew it your orgasm peaked, leaving his cock all messy of your juices. you whined as he pulls out, looking down at your folds and spreading them before grazing his mouth over your heat, flicking his tongue on your already overly sensitive bud. you could cry right in this moment from just how heavenly your boyfriend was making you feel. you held onto him for dear life as he buried his face between your plush thighs, the lewd sounds filling the room as he drank you.
“turn over.” he demands once coming back up for air again, you obey straight away, laying onto your stomach, letting out heavy breaths as your body ached.
heeseung lifted your hips, putting you on all fours.
“can you take some more for me baby? ‘m close..” he puckers kisses all over your ass and waist, heeseung hadn’t came yet. he kinda has this weird game in his head where he tries to see how long he can last until he physically just can’t take it anymore. it’s oddly satisfying in the end because not only does he cum so much more but he gets to fuck you even longer, it’s a win win in his book !
“mhm.. more baby !” you respond quickly, you were greedy as fuck for his cock and he loved that you were just as horny as him.
with that, he were thrusting like no tomorrow into your tight cunt. a loud slap to your ass comes with full force, barely giving you any time to react. your body jerks forward, jaw locked in place as you grab onto the sheets to keep you stable. your head was empty, no thoughts other than how good heeseung was fucking you like his life depends on it.
“pussy made just for me, you feel so good baby. you love milking my cock, don’t you?” his moaning reached another level of loud. it was so sexy..
“all yours baby, please come in me ! fill me up hee !!” he pulled out before thrashing back in, noticing the white ring around his dick changing sizes everytime his length swipes through your core.
“that’s right, yeah baby, where do you want it ??” his pace quickens, you can barely catch your breath. you felt your high returning, his high approaching quicker as you clench around him, once more.
“inside ! oh please inside me !!” you turn your head towards him giving him a pleading look, a look that stroked his ego a little too much. you felt his jizz filling you up and leaking from your open as he slid himself from you.
“baby!.. i’m not done..” you pouted.
“i know, i know. don’t worry princess.” you felt two of his digits thrusting into you, biting your lip as he made your back arch in surprise.
your hand grips the sheets of the bed even tighter as the other played over your thirsty clit. and with just a curl, you bursted. whines filling the room, your body collapsing and a shaky sigh leaving your body as you rub your legs together to stop the throb, your lover felt accomplished with the result.
“shaking orgasm.” he chuckled, his fingers traced lines along the slope of your waist and his lips finding place on yours.
what an apology. you felt lush. (つω`。)
THNX FOR 450+ FOLLOWERS YA’LL WTF, it’s only been like 2 weeks on this acc :’)) i appreciate all of u for reading my content hehe ♡︎
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hoe4hotchner · 2 days
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hiii!! :3
i saw you asking for fluff requests so... perhaps it's cold out, and the reader is out with hotch (maybe going out to a crime scene or smth) and the readers shivering and hotch looks awfully warm in his coat, so ofc the reader just goes up and asks for a hug! (just to warm up ofc. no other reason to ask your hot boss for a hug 🤭) (maybe the reader manages to slide into his jacket)
tysm! <33
The Jacket Incident | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader CW: it's just cold and you were stupid enough to not wear a warm jacket. Also reader is shorter than Hotch. Fluff.
WC: 0.7k
Why is reader literally me in this one. I'm so dumb and not good at staying warm.
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           The wind howled through the dark, desolate street, biting through the thin layers of your windbreaker as you and Hotch made your way back to the crime scene. You’d been out there for what felt like hours, and no amount of walking had kept the cold from seeping into your bones. Your fingers tingled with numbness despite being shoved deep into your pockets, and a shiver ran down your spine for the hundredth time.
           Hotch, of course, looked completely unbothered. He stood a few feet away, his demeanor calm and composed despite the freezing temperature. You couldn’t help but envy him a little. While you were practically freezing, he seemed like he hadn’t even noticed the cold.
           As you shifted from one foot to the other, trying to get some feeling back into your toes, you watched him finish his conversation. The way he stood, tall and commanding, only seemed to emphasize the fact that he was probably the warmest person in your vicinity. His jacket, the heavy, padded one you both wore during cases in colder climates, was unzipped - wide open, practically inviting you inside.
           You bit your lip, glancing around, trying to work up the nerve to do what you’d been thinking about for the last ten minutes. He was your boss, but more importantly, he was your boyfriend, which gave you a bit more confidence. And the thought of his warmth was too tempting to ignore. Bracing yourself, you took a few steps closer until you were standing beside him, shivering dramatically to make your point.
           Hotch turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he glanced down at you. "Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, but there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
           You nodded, giving him your best pitiful look. "Freezing," you muttered, teeth chattering for good measure.
           Hotch’s gaze softened, and he let out a small sigh, his eyes flicking to your jacket before returning to your face. For a moment, you thought he was going to suggest you head back to the car, but instead, he smiled - just a tiny, private smile.
           Without a word, he opened his arms, his jacket still hanging open, and gave a slight nod toward the space between them. "Come here," he said, his tone warm and inviting, holding the edges of his jacket.
           Your heart skipped a beat at the offer, and without hesitating, you stepped closer, sliding your way into his open jacket. As soon as you were enveloped by his warmth, the world outside seemed to disappear. The heat of his body instantly chased away the cold, and you sighed in relief, nestling against his chest.
           Hotch’s arms wrapped around you instinctively, the thick jacket falling around your shoulders like a protective barrier from the wind. He smelled like his usual aftershave, mixed with the faint scent of coffee and something distinctly him - it was comforting. His hands settled gently on your back, holding you close, and you felt his chin rest lightly on the top of your head.
           "You should’ve said something sooner," he murmured, his voice rumbling through his chest.
You grinned, your cheek pressed against his shirt. "Figured you’d be too busy being all stern and in charge to notice."
           Hotch chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you, and you could feel the coldness in your body start to melt away. "I always notice," he replied quietly, his voice a little softer than usual, the warmth in his tone matching the heat of his body.
           You snuggled further into his chest, your hands slipping around his waist as you relaxed into his embrace. The cold air seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by the steady beat of his heart and the comforting weight of his arms around you.
           "Thanks for sharing your warmth," you mumbled, your words muffled against him.
           "Anytime," Hotch replied, his hand giving your back a gentle rub. "I’m always here to keep you warm."
           The two of you stood there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, you were a sight for sore eyes. The wind and the cold now just background noise.
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krirebr · 3 days
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Luck Be a Lady
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Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader
Word Count: ~10.1k
Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?
Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto
Masterlist
A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂
This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!
And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.
“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”
You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.
Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.
“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”
“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.
The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”
Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 
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Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 
As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 
You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 
You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
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It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.
“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 
“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.
The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.
You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.
He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”
You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 
“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 
You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???
You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.
“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 
You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.
Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.
You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.
“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”
This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.
Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”
Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.
“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”
“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.
But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.
As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”
“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”
“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.
You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”
“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 
You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”
You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.
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The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.
“Bambi?” you ask.
He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.
You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 
He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.
You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??
Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.
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Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.
And you’re making so much money.
In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.
And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 
And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.
But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.
She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”
You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”
He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”
You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”
“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 
“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.
You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.
Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 
Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”
You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”
Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”
Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”
You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.
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The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.
At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 
Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 
“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”
You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.
His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”
You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 
You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.
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Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 
It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.
It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.
You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.
He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”
Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.
“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 
Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.
“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 
Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.
You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?
He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”
“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.
Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 
“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”
Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.
It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 
You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.
After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.
You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”
A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”
It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”
“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 
He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.
“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 
You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 
“Someone touched you?”
“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”
His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.
You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 
“Tell me who it was.”
“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 
He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”
“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”
“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”
You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.
At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”
Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”
“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 
You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 
He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”
You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 
He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”
You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”
“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”
You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”
His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 
Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”
You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 
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You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.
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The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 
As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”
“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”
“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.
You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 
He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.
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Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 
You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.
Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.
You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 
Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”
His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”
He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”
“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”
Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”
You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 
You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”
“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”
You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.
The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.
He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 
You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.
“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”
Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”
“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 
Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.
Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.
“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”
You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.
You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”
You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 
Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”
Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”
Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?
Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 
The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.
Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”
Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.
The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”
Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.
As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”
You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 
While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 
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The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.
You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.
Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 
You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.
When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.
You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”
“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.
It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 
He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”
“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 
He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.
“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.
To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”
Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”
He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”
 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  
There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.
Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.
You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 
A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.
It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.
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It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.
Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.
Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 
You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?
You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.
You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.
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Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.
Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.
You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 
You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”
He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.
Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”
You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”
“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”
It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.
“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 
It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.
“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”
“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”
He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”
You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”
Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”
His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 
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Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.
You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.
He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”
“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.
He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.
He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.
You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”
He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”
You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 
He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 
As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.
“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 
“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 
“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 
He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.
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You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 
You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.
You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.
You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.
You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 
As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 
You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.
“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”
You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”
His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”
You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”
“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.
You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”
“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.
“What?”
“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”
Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??
He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”
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Tag list
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261 notes · View notes
wosoluver · 3 days
Text
Oh, baby
Georgia Stanway x reader.
I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!
Other players masterlist
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──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.
"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.
That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.
A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?
Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?
You started to cry immediately.
"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."
"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."
"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."
"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."
She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.
You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.
You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.
You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.
You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.
A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.
And you both finally managed to start your life together.
She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.
From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.
And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.
It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.
But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.
You didn't expect for it to work so soon.
Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.
Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.
You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.
She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.
She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.
And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Just one more push, yeah?"
And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.
You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.
But you couldn't, yet.
"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.
"Is the game over yet?"
"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.
You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.
ongoing call...
"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."
before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.
"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.
"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.
"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.
"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."
And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.
"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."
"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.
"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."
"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."
"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?
like & share pls!
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band--psycho · 2 days
Text
Sylus x Reader - A Little Birdie Told Me
Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!
Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!
Thank you the anon who sent in this request, it was such fun to write this!
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L&DS Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Join My Taglist
Warnings: Jealous Sylus, hints of mature themes towards the end
Sylus was fully expecting to get back home to feathers, metal and blood everywhere; what else was he meant to expect when leaving you and Mephisto together for a prolonged period of time. 
You two didn’t get along. 
Sylus knew this. 
But you owed him, since he looked after the dove you found, just before going away on a work trip. 
Much to his own surprise though, you didn’t argue with him when he asked you to check in on Mephisto; which naturally only made him more suspicious. 
You were planning something. 
He didn’t know what, but the mischievous glint that was showing in your eyes as he left, confirmed his suspicions. 
That’s why he was expecting at least part of his mansion to be somewhat trashed. 
But it wasn’t. 
There were no stray feathers. 
No shards of metal. 
No specks of blood from where Mephisto could have pecked you. 
There was nothing; everything was exactly how he left it. 
And instead of his home  being filled with the sound of yours and Mephistos petty squabbles, something that he’d gotten quite used to recently, his home was silent. 
‘Maybe Luke and Kieran were right,’ he thought to himself, hanging his leather jacket on the coat hook by his front door, thinking back to what the twins had told him a few days ago as he made his way down the hall. 
According to the twins, you and Mephisto were getting along fine; more than fine in fact, according to them you two were almost inseparable, like you were friends. 
But that was a ridiculous thought, you two didn’t get along, you’d both told him that, which is what made the picture he got sent even more puzzling. 
The picture was of you, reading, as you so often do, but this time Mephisto was perched on the arm of the chair next to and your free hand was on his head, petting him.
Was that part of the reason he came back a few days earlier than he’d intended to from his trip?
Yes. 
He needed answers. 
Though it was also because that picture made him realise just how much he hated being away from you and how much he hated that he wasn’t the one being given your attention. 
Granted you could be a pain in the ass at times, sassing him at any given opportunity as well as always pushing him to do the ‘right’ thing…but he’d grown to love those qualities about you. 
You changed him. 
He knew you’d had an affect on him long ago, however it wasn’t until recently whilst he was away from you that he realised two things, 1) How much of an affect you’d truly had on him and 2) How much he’d missed everything about you; your witty and sarcastic remarks, the way your infectious smile could light up a room, the way you hummed  along to whatever song was playing through your headphones as you danced in his kitchen, completely oblivious to his presence. 
Everything. 
And now that he was home, he just wanted to see you. 
Needed to see you. 
That was the whole reason why he asked you to look after Mephisto in the first place, not that he’d ever tell you that. 
He walked into the living room, a soft smile quickly forming on his lips as he saw you fast asleep on the sofa, your body wrapped in the blanket you’d claimed as yours after a few visits, your music blaring into your ears at the loudest possible volume. 
Though Sylus’ smile faltered as he took a few more steps closer to you, allowing him to see his mechanical bird nestled in the crook of your neck, little satisfied coos left his beak as the two of you continued to sleep peacefully. 
Of all the scenarios he thought he’d be walking into, this was the most unexpected; a complete juxtaposition to what he’d assumed he’d be walking into.
He should’ve felt relief in the fact that neither of you had killed the other, but relief was not the emotion he was feeling. 
Jealousy however was. 
The same feeling that he’d tried to push to the side when he saw the picture from the twins
That’s how maddening his feelings were for you, only you could ever make him jealous of Mephisto. 
What had happened whilst he was away?
Had he somehow ended up in an alternate reality where you and Mephisto were friends? 
He shook his head at the absurd thoughts racing around in his head; but what he was seeing was exactly that, absurd. 
He wanted to wake you so he could get some answers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, mainly because of how peaceful you looked. 
Mephisto though was different. 
Sylus had no issue in waking him up and thanks to the music you were listening to, you wouldn’t be disturbed by his annoyed caws once he was awoken. 
~~~~~~
Safe to say, Mephisto was very unhappy at being woken up. 
And his grouchiness was naturally directed towards the person who’d disturbed him. 
“All I’m asking is, what suddenly made you two so close?” Sylus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore the jealousy remarks the crow was making. 
One thing was immediately clear to Sylus, Mephisto had certainly adopted your sassy retorts to questions. 
“I’m not,” Sylus denied; only to be mocked by the bird in front of him. 
He was becoming as infuriating as you were. 
“Are you two arguing?” You asked, your words catching Sylus off guard; he’d been so busy interrogating Mephisto that he’d been completely oblivious to you waking up or finding them in the study that they were currently standing in. 
“No,” Sylus answered simply, turning around to look at you. 
You were leaning against the doorframe of his study, your eyes meeting his and holding his gaze; it was like you were trying to read his thoughts. 
Thankfully, mind reading was not a skill you possessed. 
Much to Sylus’ dismay though, he didn’t need to answer you, because Mephisto answered for him. 
“Mephisto says you’re lying,” you stated, biting back the triumphant smile that wanted nothing more than to spread across your lips. 
Sylus didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that she understood the Crow now behind him, or the fact that said crow had betrayed him in such a way. 
“I’m aware of what he said, sweetie,” Sylus pointed out, his voice laced with frustration as he quickly shot a glare at Mephisto. 
He knew you were going to ask why he was lying and just like that, those very words fell from your lips. 
Once again, Mephisto answered before Sylus could even open his mouth to speak; before flying very, very quickly out of the study, leaving you and Sylus alone together. 
“You were jealous?” You asked, taking a few steps closer to Sylus. 
Sylus didn’t want to admit it, but you were annoyingly persistent when you wanted answers. 
So unless he wanted to be continuously asked about Mephistos comment (Which he didn’t) he had no other choice to answer your question honestly.
“Yes,” he admitted, his voice low as you continued walking towards him, only stopping once you were directly infront of him. 
“Why?” You pushed.
He hated to admit that he was jealous; let alone saying the reason why…revealing how much he really craved your attention.
“Because I-” his words trailed off as he began to notice a playful smirk tugging at your lips, the realisation dawning on him in that very moment. 
You already knew why. 
This had all been some elaborate plan to get him to admit his feelings for you. 
“Who told you?” Sylus questioned, watching as your smirk grew.
“Who told me what?” You teased coyly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie,” he whispered, leaning down slightly so that his lips were brushing over the shell of your ear. 
His words alone were enough to send a shiver down your spine. 
“Who’s idea was this, yours or Mephistos?” He asked, placing a feather light kiss just under your ear. 
“Both,” you breathed out; reveling in the closeness between the two of you. 
“Thought you two didn’t get along?”  He asked quietly. 
Granted, you and Mephisto had your differences, and you didn’t always get along, but recently you’d grown quite accustomed to one another. 
Of course you squabbled, but the same way someone would with a sibling.
You knew Sylus was going to ask you to look after Mephisto, because the crow had told you so in secret.
That’s when the two of you came up with this plan. 
A plan to make Sylus jealous. 
You were never one hundred percent sure of his feelings towards you, you flirted often enough, but some people just had that type of connection, it didn’t mean he felt the same way about you, that you did him. 
“Things changed,” you answered back, your voice just as quiet as his.
“Is it true?” You asked, changing the topic of conversation as you turned your head slightly, so now your lips were inches apart. 
“Is what true?”
“What Mephisto told me about how you feel about me?”
Being this close to him was torture for the both of you; both of you waiting for the other to make the final move and close the little distance that was between you both.
He saw the anxiety creeping in your y/e/c orbs as you waited for him to answer your question. 
But he knew that he could do something better than telling you how he felt, he could show you. 
And with that thought in mind, he closed the distance between your lips. 
It took you a few seconds to actually process what was happening; but once you did you wasted no time in allowing your eyes to flutter shut and melt into the kiss. 
The kiss started off gentle, soft, the two of you clearly processing what was happening; but everything changed when you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.
His hands found a home on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified.
“Does that answer your question, kitten?” He murmured, pulling away from you slightly. 
“I don’t know, I think I could use some clarification,” you breathlessly chuckled before his lips met yours again, obliging to give you all the clarification you needed. 
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hoshifighting · 2 days
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Hey pookie so I just wanted to ask seeing that you didn't see any of my asks in your inbox could you write me a ff where you're in seventeen and you used to have a friends with benefits situation with wonwoo but now that's over and you're with josh but he knows that so now he wants to have a threesome with you and won I you are comfortable and have the time😊💗
threesome with; actual situationship!joshua & past situationship!wonwoo WC: 3.3k WARNINGS: smut, threesome, reader misses wonwoo, mentions of ovulation/sensitiveness, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), body fluids (cum) penetrative sex, a teeth scratch during blowjob—no pain, joshua and wonwoo making eye contact as they fuck you—idk, but felt like a warning.
you’re not entirely sure how it started. maybe it’s the way joshua’s always had this easy charm, like he knows exactly how to say shit that gets under your skin. but it’s not the kind of annoyance that makes you want to push him away, it’s the kind that makes you want to shut him up by doing things that leave the both of you breathless.
and wonwoo… well, wonwoo’s always been a different story. it’s not like he’s cold, exactly. just detached, distant. except when he’s not. except when his hands were on your hips, and his mouth was on your neck, and when he pulled you so close that it’s like he wanted to remind you how much he can feel.
it wasn’t supposed to last as long as it did, but it did. until it didn’t.
now, though? now you’ve got joshua, and that’s its own thing. he’s smoother than wonwoo ever was, always knows how to keep things light and playful even when his touch is hot and heavy. you’re not sure what to call what you have with him—it’s not exactly a relationship, but it’s not casual either. and he knows about wonwoo. of course he does. you never accomplished about lying to joshus, he knows everything about you, and you simply cant lie looking inside his eyes.
“so,” joshua says, leaning back against the couch, his eyes fixed on you with that lazy smirk you’ve come to expect. “what if we changed things up?”
you raise a brow, not quite following. “changed things up how?”
his gaze flicks over you, dark in his eyes now, something you’ve only seen in flashes before, right when he’s about to get serious. “i know about you and wonwoo. i know it’s over, but…” he lets the words hang there, knowing exactly how to build suspense. “what if it didn’t have to be over?”
you feel your stomach flip, your mind racing to catch up with the suggestion that’s hanging in the air like a loaded gun. “what the fuck are you talking about?”
he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look like he’s joking. “i’m talking about the three of us.”
you let out a laugh, more out of shock than anything. “a fucking threesome? with wonwoo?” it’s so ridiculous, but there’s something twisted in your chest that says it’s not entirely a bad idea.
joshua just shrugs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “you said he was good, right? no reason to keep that all to yourself. besides… i’m curious.”
“curious?” you echo, still not believing what you’re hearing. “about what exactly?”
his smile turns wicked, and he leans forward, his lips brushing your ear. “about what it’d be like to see you with him. to see how you’d react if it was both of us. together.”
the idea rolls through your mind like wildfire, igniting thoughts you didn’t even know were buried there. you picture it—wonwoo’s quiet dom that you remembered, joshua’s charming and sensual—and suddenly, the room feels too hot, your heart beating too fast.
you lean back, eyes narrowed. “and what makes you think wonwoo’s even into that?”
joshua grins, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “oh, he’s into it. trust me.”
you don’t need to ask how he knows, and that’s what gets to you. this whole situation, as absurd as it sounds, feels almost inevitable. the tension between you and joshua’s always been good enough, but throw wonwoo into the mix, and it’s like adding gasoline to a slow-burning fire.
“you really think this is a good idea?” you ask, not sure if you’re talking to joshua or yourself at this point.
“i think it’s an idea,” he says, shrugging again, that confidence never leaving his face. “whether or not it’s a good one is up to you.”
you bite your lip, torn between the pull of curiosity and the weight of everything that’s gone down with wonwoo. it wasn’t messy when it ended, but it wasn’t exactly clean either. things like that don’t just disappear. they linger.
“fuck, you’re serious about this.” it’s not a question, more like a realization. joshua’s leaning in, his hands tracing light patterns over your skin, and you feel yourself giving in to the inevitable, even though part of you is still screaming that this is insane.
“completely,” he says, his lips grazing your jaw. “so, what do you say? wanna see how far we can push this?”
there’s a moment, where you think about what this could mean. it’s not just about sex, not with joshua and wonwoo involved. the way joshua’s eyes burn into yours as if he’s daring you to cross a line you can never uncross.
but then, you think about the way wonwoo used to look at you, that hunger in his sharp eyes, and the way joshua’s always been able to coax you into doing things you never thought you’d be into. and, well… maybe crossing that line isn’t the worst idea after all.
“alright,” the weight behind it feels like a door being kicked wide open. “let’s do it.”
joshua’s grin stretches wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “that’s what i thought you’d say.”
you can feel wonwoo's presence, even though wonwoo’s not here yet. but you know—you know—that when he is, things are going to change in a way none of you can ever take back.
and the fucked up part is? you’re not sure you’d want to.
[...]
“a threesome?!”
wonwoo’s voice cuts through the room. he’s standing at the foot of joshua’s bed, his eyes wide in disbelief—those same eyes that are always narrow, focused, but right now they’re blown open like he just heard the most ridiculous thing in his life.
honestly, you can’t blame him.
you sit there, smaller than you’ve ever felt, wrapped in the sheets like they might shield you from the exhasperation of his reaction. you’d expected some kind of pushback from wonwoo—he’s not exactly the most spontaneous guy—but the shock in his voice still stings more than you’d thought it would. joshua’s quiet beside you, arms folded across his chest, watching wonwoo with this unreadable look, lips pressed into a thin line. like he’s assessing the situation. like he’s waiting to see how this plays out.
“i—” you start, but your throat feels dry, your words dying before they’ve even formed. you shift, uncomfortable, but it’s not just the awkwardness of the moment. there’s something more, something deeper that’s making your skin feel hot, your body overly sensitive to every movement. you know what it is. you can feel it. your body’s buzzing, the ache between your thighs making itself known with every subtle shift of the sheets. you’re ovulating, and it’s making this whole thing worse, making your body respond in ways that are frustratingly out of your control.
wonwoo’s still staring, he looks at you, then at joshua, then back at you again. you don’t meet his eyes, can’t bring yourself to.
“are you serious?” his voice is lower now, more measured, but there’s still a note of incredulity in it.
you swallow hard, forcing yourself to look up at him. “yeah,” you say, voice quiet, but it’s the truth. “we’re serious.”
wonwoo looks like he’s processing it, his mind running a mile a minute, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression that tells you he’s considering it. and that’s enough for joshua, who leans forward slightly, his voice smooth, persuasive.
“it’s not as weird as it sounds,” joshua says, his tone light, like he’s just suggesting something casual, like going out for drinks. “you’re both already close. you trust each other, I know you for years. we’ve all got chemistry, right?”
wonwoo’s eyes narrow slightly at joshua, but the tension between them isn’t exactly hostile. it’s more like a challenge, like he’s weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out if this is something he can actually wrap his head around.
finally, wonwoo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and when he speaks again, there’s a resigned sort of acceptance in his voice. “fuck it. okay.”
your heart jumps at the words. wonwoo’s gaze locks on yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no distance between you. no walls.
joshua doesn’t say anything, but you feel his presence, the way his eyes are on you, observing every little reaction. there’s something almost possessive in the way he watches, like he’s waiting for you to make the first move.
you don’t wait long.
before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re reaching for wonwoo, pulling him down by the front of his shirt until his lips crash into yours. it’s messy, a little frantic, and you missed him. so, so much. like you missed him more than you were willing to admit. you can’t help the small sound that escapes your throat, the way your body responds immediately, almost embarrassingly fast.
wonwoo’s hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, torching the fire that’s already been burning low in your belly.
joshua’s still silent beside you, but you feel his eyes on you, feel the way his presence lingers, close but not touching. when you finally pull away from wonwoo, breathless and dazed, you glance at joshua. his lips are pressed together in a tight line, his expression carefully neutral, but there’s a tension in his jaw that tells you he’s not unaffected by what he just saw.
“fuck,” wonwoo mutters, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “you’re… fuck, you’re wet already.”
you let out a shaky breath, your body pulsing with a need that’s only getting worse. “yeah,” you admit, not even embarrassed by it. “it’s… it’s the timing.”
wonwoo raises a brow, confused for a second, before realization dawns on his face. “oh.”
wonwoo knew about “the timing” he used to be your relief for it, and he remembered how sensitive you were.
joshua finally speaks up “she’s sensitive right now. been like this all day.”
you want it. you need it.
wonwoo’s eyes darken, his fingers tightening on your waist. “is that right?”
joshua’s watching closely, his hand brushing over your thigh, and the contact is enough to make your breath hitch, your body already responding before you can even think about it. “she’s all yours for now,” joshua murmurs. “but don’t get too comfortable.”
wonwoo’s lips are on yours again, his hands exploring your body with a familiarity that makes the nostalgia wash over you like grandma's food, and you can’t help but respond, your body arching into him.
every touch, every kiss feels magnified, like your senses are on overdrive, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from losing control entirely. you’re wet, so wet it’s embarrassing, and you know they can both feel it, know exactly how badly you want this, how badly you need it.
“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” wonwoo breathes against your skin, his fingers teasing along the waistband of your underwear, and you whimper at the contact, your hips bucking involuntarily. “can’t believe how wet you are.”
joshua leans in, his lips brushing wonwoo's ear as he whispers, “told you she’s been like this all day. it’s driving her crazy.”
you let out a shaky breath, wonwoo’s fingers dip lower, brushing against your soaked core, and you moan, your head falling back against joshua’s shoulder. it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you’ve been craving, what your body’s been screaming for all day.
joshua’s hand slips under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your tits, twisting the hardened nipples, he’s letting wonwoo have you, letting you drown in it, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he takes over.
wonwoo’s fingers slide inside you, slow at first, and the instant he curls them, you feel your body react, hips stuttering forward like you’re trying to chase the sensation, but can’t quite control it. it’s like your entire body remembers him, remembers the way he used to touch you, how he knows exactly what makes you fall apart.
you gasp, your forehead pressing against his chest, his free hand coming up to hold the back of your neck, keeping you close. “fuck,” you whisper, your breath ragged, your skin burning, fever. “wonwoo…”
he doesn’t respond with words, just lets out a low hum, his fingers working inside you with an infuriating pace, slow but so damn effective. you clench around him, feeling the wetness start to drip onto the sheets beneath you, and your mind’s a blur.
then, they share a look—wonwoo and joshua, their eyes meeting over your trembling form like they’re communicating something quietly between them. it makes your stomach tighten. wonwoo’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle as you crumble against him, barely able to hold yourself up.
“fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” wonwoo mutters, his fingers start moving faster, curling with every thrust, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “didn’t think you’d be this sensitive.”
“wonwoo—” you choke out, your head falling back, and your hand reaches out blindly for joshua. he’s pulling away, but you need him, need both of them. “joshua—”
you hear him groan softly, and when you turn your head, you see him standing there, his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, watching you like he’s savoring the sight of you falling apart on wonwoo’s fingers. “fuck, you look so good like that,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “so fucking needy.”
you bite your lip, moaning as wonwoo’s fingers slide deeper, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room as your body betrays you. your thighs tremble, your hands clawing at the sheets, the sensation of being split between them making your head spin. “joshua,” you moan again, voice breaking. “please… come back.”
he doesn’t need much more convincing. you watch as he steps forward, his cock hard and slick in his fist. “you want me that bad, huh?” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice cutting through the haze clouding your mind. “can’t handle just wonwoo?”
wonwoo chuckles softly, his fingers still working inside you. “she’s falling apart already,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck. “not sure she can handle both of us.”
“she can,” joshua says confidently, his thumb swiping over the tip of his cock as he steps closer, looming over you. “she just needs a little encouragement.”
you’re already panting, your body on edge, teetering dangerously close to losing control completely. you can feel the wetness coating his hand now, dripping onto the sheets, and it only makes the whole thing worse. every little movement makes you more sensitive, your body almost too responsive, and the frustration builds in your chest.
joshua kneels down on the bed, his cock brushing your lips, and you open your mouth automatically, desperate to have him inside you. but the second you try to take him in, wonwoo’s fingers curl again, and you gasp, your body jerking uncontrollably.
“shit—” you whimper, struggling to breathe, “i can’t—”
joshua presses the tip of his cock against your lips, his eyes burning into yours. “oh, you’re just gonna have to try a little harder, baby.”
you moan against him, your hips rolling instinctively into wonwoo’s hand, your body caught in this maddening push and pull between the two of them. joshua slides his cock past your lips, and the feeling of him, heavy and warm on your tongue, only intensifies the sensation of wonwoo’s fingers inside you. you choke a little, struggling to focus on either one of them, but it’s impossible.
wonwoo’s pace picks up, his fingers thrusting deeper, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pulls them out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. you whine at the loss, your head spinning, but before you can even process it, he’s shifting lower, pressing your thighs apart with a firm grip.
“wonwoo—” you gasp, your words muffled around joshua’s cock.
“shh,” wonwoo murmurs, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “just relax.”
and then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a broad, slow stripe up your center, and your entire body seizes up, a broken moan ripping from your throat. your hips buck against his mouth, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your thighs as he starts devouring you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.
“fuck,” joshua mutters, his hand tightening in your hair as you struggle to take him, the combination of wonwoo’s tongue on your clit and joshua in your mouth pushing you past the point of reason. “you’re so fucking wet. wonwoo’s making a mess out of you.”
you can’t respond, can barely even think, your mind a swirling mess. wonwoo’s tongue is relentless, teasing and sucking at your clit, his fingers slipping back inside you as he eats you out like it’s his only mission in life. you can feel your legs shaking, your entire body trembling as you try to keep up, but it’s impossible. every touch, every thrust of his fingers makes you more sensitive, makes it harder to breathe.
“fuck, i can’t—” you gasp, pulling off joshua’s cock for a second, your voice a desperate, breathless whine.
joshua just chuckles darkly, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “you’re doing so good, baby. just a little more.”
wonwoo hums in agreement, the vibration against your clit making your entire body jolt, and you feel yourself spiraling, the tension building faster than you can handle. his tongue flicks over you again, and this time, he focuses on that one spot—the needy, throbbing clit—sucking just hard enough to send you over the edge.
you cry out, your back arching off the bed, your entire body shuddering as the orgasm rips through you, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, trembling and gasping for breath as wonwoo keeps going, his mouth never letting up.
“fuck, look at you,” joshua mutters, his voice full of awe as he watches you fall apart. “so fucking beautiful when you come. i love it.”
wonwoo finally pulls back, his lips shiny and slick with your cum, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks up at you. “she’s not done yet,”
and you know he’s right.
“fuck, look at you,” wonwoo mutters, pulling back from between your legs, his lips still glistening with you. “i’ve got you ready for him, haven’t i?” the heat in your cheeks burning deeper as you realize what he means.
you don’t have time to respond before joshua's hands are on your hips, pulling you up to your knees. the shift makes you gasp, you glance back at him.
“yeah, you’ve got her real nice and wet for me,” joshua says, the blunt head of his cock teasing at your entrance. “good job, wonwoo.”
you feel a kick of embarrassment making your legs shake. wonwoo’s hand comes up to brush against your cheek, turning your face toward him as he looks down at you with that familiar gaze. “c’mere,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your lips. “i missed your pretty mouth.”
your lips part automatically, like you’re drawn to him, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him toward your lips. he groans softly as you take him in, his hand resting on your jaw, fingers curling slightly as you suck him in deeper.
“god, i missed this,” he breathes out, his voice catching as you swirl your tongue around him, taking him deeper into your throat. “missed how fucking good you are at this.”
your cheeks flush at the praise, your body humming as joshua teases you from behind, the tip of his cock just narrowly entering you. wonwoo’s hand tightens on your jaw, guiding your movements as you bob your head up and down, your lips stretched around him. the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him—everything is overwhelming in the best way.
but just as you start to take him in throat, joshua suddenly thrusts into you from behind, hard. the sharp intrusion makes you gasp around wonwoo’s cock, your teeth scraping lightly against him as the sudden cock fills you all at once.
“shit—!” wonwoo curses, his hips jerking as your teeth graze him, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him jolt. his eyes widen in shock, but then a shaky laugh escapes his lips, his free hand tightening in your hair as he steadies you. “motherfucker.”
joshua lets out a loud laugh behind you, clearly amused by wonwoo’s reaction. “sorry about that,” he says, but there’s no real apology in his tone, only satisfaction as he starts moving inside you again, his hips snapping forward with sharp, controlled thrusts that have you whimpering around wonwoo’s cock.
“you’re such a fucking asshole hyung,” wonwoo mutters, but the words are strained, his voice catching as he watches your lips stretch around him. his hand rests on the back of your neck now, guiding your head in time with his shallow thrusts as he slowly fucks your mouth. “fuck, just like that. good girl.”
joshua’s pace is relentless, his hips slamming into you from behind, both filling you—wonwoo in your mouth, joshua inside you.
“god, you’re so fucking tight,” joshua groans, his hands gripping your hips harder as he pushes deeper, the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking you filling the room. “woo, you’ve got her all loosened up, but she’s still so fucking tight around me.”
wonwoo chuckles, but it’s strained, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watches you struggle to take both of them. “yeah?” he mutters, his voice rough. “she’s so fucking wet, isn’t she? dripping all over you.”
joshua’s pace falters for just a second as he glances up at wonwoo, and for a moment, they lock eyes. it’s strange at first, like neither of them expected to find themselves in this situation—watching each other while they both take you apart. its strange, strange because...
they start to enjoy it.
they enjoy the way their faces contort, the way their moans mix together, the sight of you caught between them—cocks twitching.
joshua whimpers as looking wonwoo's eyes, a smirk playing at his lips as he gives you another sharp thrust, just to watch you choke around wonwoo’s cock.
the sound of both of them moaning, cursing, panting—it only makes you wetter, makes you crave more.
“shit,” joshua breathes out, his voice strained as he keeps up the brutal pace, his hand sliding up your back, fingers digging into your skin. “fuck, you’re taking us so well.”
wonwoo’s face contorts, his hand tightening in your hair as his cock twitches in your mouth. “you’re gonna make me come if you keep going like this,” he groans, his eyes rolling back slightly as he fights to stay in control.
you whimper around him, your body shaking as the pleasure builds higher and higher, and you can feel yourself getting closer, every movement, every touch is pushing you nigher, and the sounds of their moans, the way they’re both so fucking into it—it’s enough to send you over.
“cum for us,” joshua growls, as his hips slam into you again, harder this time.
wonwoo’s grip tightens, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he watches you, his fingers flexing slightly on the back of your neck. “show us how fucking good you are.”
your body finally gives in. you come hard, your entire body shaking with the power of it, your lips trembling around wonwoo’s cock as you gasp for air.
“fuck,” wonwoo groans, his hand tightening on your neck as his hips stutter forward, his cock twitching in your mouth as he follows you over the edge.
joshua isn’t far behind, his hips slamming into you one last time before he lets out a sly, throaty moan, his body tensing as he spills inside you, filling you up.
wonwoo pulls out of your mouth slowly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips as he looks down at you. you look at him shaking your head, taking his cock inside your wet mouth again.
the man melts on the headboard, joshua sat, looking how you look eager to make wonwoo cum, like you just cant leave him hanging. your knees give out, but your neck keep working to bob your head.
there's a line of spit dripping from your chin, as you suck him moaning, as the simply action of sucking him, was stimulating you. wonwoo eyes are glued with joshua's, the hyung biting his own bottom lip as he watches every single detail.
wonwoo feels the cock twitching, the gaze of his hyung plus the warmth of your mouth, making him cum on spot. he looks back at you again, the cum filling your tongue, leaving traces of it on your chin and neck, as you moan dumbly before laying on his thigh.
the boys make eye contact again, a smile spreading across their lips.
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eclipseslayer · 2 days
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PRETTY PINK PANTIES
• TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT
• SUMMARY: Toji catches a glimpse of your panties one morning and then gets drunk to take his mind off of it. However, his drunk mind seems to have other plans when he finds himself suddenly in your bedroom.
• CW: DARK CONTENT! Icky!dad!Toji, panty-sniffing, masturbation, incest.
• WC: 1kish
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Another night, another drink.
Toji groans as he downs his fourth beer, feeling the weight of the liquid sit in his stomach, making for a rather unpleasant feeling. He scratches his stomach while he feels his head go into a woozy state from all of the alcohol he's consumed.
He grunts.
He wouldn't have to feel this shitty if he didn't drink to get over what he saw earlier today.
The memory keeps playing back in his mind like a broken record, and it makes Toji want to smack his skull against the wall, because he knows he shouldn't think about it, but, fuck, for some reason, he can't help it.
You were leaving early this morning to go to class. Toji was making himself some coffee, when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he sees you bend over to tie a loose lace on your sneaker, revealing your tight, pink panties beneath your skirt.
Toji quickly whipped his head away the second he laid his eyes on your underwear, not wanting to stare at them a second longer because he knew it was wrong.
But... fuck. Despite it all, he couldn't get those pretty pink panties that hugged your ass so well out of his head.
You're his kid. He can't be thinking like this.
Sure, he's always been kinda a deadbeat due to your mom missing in his life, but he couldn't do this to you.
He gets up from the couch, and, drunkenly, nearly stumbles over the coffee table.
No, he can't. He won't.
His head, clouded with the alcohol, makes the decision for him despite his nagging thoughts, as his mind takes control of his feet and moves them towards your room.
She's my fucking kid... can't do this—
Toji stumbles over his feet again but he catches himself on your doorframe.
Fuck.
He huffs; a heavy breath escapes him while he holds himself on the doorframe, and his eyes scan your room, looking for something that'll remove this weird attraction towards you—anything, especially something that'll gross him out or see you in a new bad light—
Ah, shit.
His eyes widen suddenly when he sees them: pretty pink panties, sitting on the floor of your room, discarded without a thought to the mind.
Toji's heart races in his chest, his throat constricting as if all the air has vanished. He can only manage a shaky exhale, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of fear that seeps into his mind.
What the hell am I doing? Toji wonders to himself, and yet, his feet take him forward again.
Slowly, one foot in front of the other, his feet drag him along, and Toji wants to grasp onto something, anything, maybe hold onto the doorframe to keep himself from sinking into this deep, dark hole, but, the alcohol clouds his restraint, making him lose himself to his deepest, darkest desires as he reaches down and picks up the pretty pink panties.
He swallows thickly as he stares down at the panties in his hands. His heart picks up its' pace again, and he lets out another shaky breath once he feels his cock hardening just from the sheer sight of the panties alone.
He looks around, looking for you, but then suddenly remembers you're still on campus, probably doing a late-night class.
His cock strains against his pants again, as if it's telling Toji to just do it—do what he needs to do and get it over with, so, hesitantly, he listens to his urge. He slowly lifts the panties to his nose and he inhales softly at first, but, once he gets a small whiff, he becomes quickly addicted and so he inhales. He inhales strongly as the fabric of the panties stick to his nostrils, filling his head with the scent of you.
And, God, do you smell good. Your panties smell warm, and ripe, like you had been sweating in them all day. There's even little bleach stains on the lining of the panties where your discharge had been.
Fuck.
If he could get his hands on you right now, he'd be the happiest man alive, burying his face between your thighs to smell and lick your pussy to death, until you'd be cumming all over his tongue, but he can't so his hand begins to grope his own hard dick through the fabric or his pants.
He groans, leaning his head back as he lets out a shaky sigh against the fabric of your panties. He keeps them on his face while his hands move down to slip off his sweatpants where he tugs on the grey hemline, slipping them down until the fall into a pool around his ankles.
He huffs when his eyes dart down to look at his dick poking through his underwear. He should be ashamed that he's this hard after smelling his daughter's underwear, but, he's too far in now to give a fuck.
He tugs his underwear down and lets it fall down around his legs and he sighs when he finally frees his cock from their constricting confines.
He pushes the panties to the side on his face so he can spit into his hand with ease, before bringing his hand back down to his aching cock where he begins to slowly pump himself.
He groans, lowly, as he revels in the smell of your panties. His cock throbs in his hand while he continues to smell deeply, imagining that this was your pussy right here in front of his face.
God, how he wishes it were so. He wishes his tongue was pressed deep into your pussy, tasting the sweat that had leaked from your body during the day. He wishes his lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking on it fervently while you would whine and moan about his good his tongue is. He wishes his fingers were curling inside you, over and over again so he could hear your wet, squelching cunt as it would gush around him.
He'd call you his "good girl" and would kiss your thighs, thanking you for letting him explore your body—which is something he's been wanting to do for what seems like a while now, as he finally admits it to himself.
He just can't help but get hard around you. He doesn't know why, but he does. He knows it's shameful, which is why he turned around so quickly this morning from catching a glimpse from your pretty pink panties.
Nevertheless, he grunts as he continues to pump his cock in his fist.
The pace is slow and lazy at first, as he wants to savor the smell of your pussy on his nose, but then, it grows more desperate, more needy as he imagines different scenarios with you.
Maybe he'll actually be inside of you one day, if he can convince you—as now, he's convinced himself that he wants this—or maybe he'll fuck that pretty mouth of yours and hold onto your hair while doing it.
"Ugh... haa... haa..." Toji moans as his breath starts to get heavy.
His grip tightens around his cock, focusing on the head of it which sends a jolt down his spine. He squeezes it, and lets out another groan, making his body shudder.
He inhales your panties again, and his pumping turns faster. He groans.
It's a constant cycle of sniffing, inhaling, and then pumping at a quicker pace, until Toji feels his balls tighten.
He brings his other hand down and squeezes his balls gently and then—
He cums.
He groans, loudly, and finishes right there in the middle of your room, shooting cum into his fist and some of it leaks onto the floor.
Breathing heavily, he hangs his head while his chest rises up and down, letting the panties fall back onto the floor, where they were.
He huffs, and a low chuckle erupts from him upon looking at the scene on the floor and his hand, as post-nut clarity finally hits him.
"Ah, fuck. What the hell have I done?"
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