#but it was a new challenge and i was excited to attempt it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kryptonitejelly · 6 months ago

Note

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as you easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x female reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers imagine #not cm #not tg

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katszumi · 7 months ago

Text

bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.

once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.

when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.

he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.

love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.

bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.

but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.

bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.

“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”

you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”

bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.

it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.

you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.

truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.

“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”

in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.

“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”

you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.

“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.

he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.

“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”

“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.

“what?”

“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.

“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.

you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.

“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”

bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.

“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.

“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”

“you don’t know that yet.”

“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”

“because you’re scared.”

you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”

he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.

“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.

“you never ask to begin with.”

“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.

he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.

“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”

“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.

“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”

“what do you want me to say here?”

“i want you to be honest.”

bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.

so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.

“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”

bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.

he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.

he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.

bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.

the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.

pt two

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ghostgirl101 · 8 months ago

Note

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

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eternalsunrise · 1 month ago

Text

when in france

nfl! joe burrow x fem! reader

wc: 3.1k

tags! established relationship, college sweethearts (because i said so), 💍 hint hint, no smut!

notes! abby try not to write sickening fluff challenge failed horribly. i keep going back and forth about whether i like or not but i hope you guys do! mwah 💋

when joe told you he’d be attending and modeling for fashion week, you were ecstatic. you’ve been encouraging him to step out of his comfort zone, and it seemed like he was finally listening during this offseason.

when he told you the event was in france, you were even more stunned. you were so excited for him. there was no one more deserving of these opportunities than your joe.

and when he asked you to accompany him, you were absolutely floored. sure you knew he loved you. you’ve felt it every day for years. but an experience like this, you were so grateful he’d even consider sharing this with you.

“are you sure? really babe it’s okay, i won’t be upset.” you had reassured him the day he found out about the opportunity.

joe just looked at you like you had three heads over his dinner, his fork clattering as he dropped it onto the plate. he reaches his arm across the table and clasps your hand with his, “hey. don’t be silly. you’re my girl. there’s no one, and i mean no one, i’d rather do this with.”

there’s something about joe’s soft, steady voice that always reassures you in the way he knows you need. he places a delicate kiss to the back of your knuckles. you don’t worry about it again.

your time in france is an absolute whirlwind. joe had warned you that his schedule was pretty packed, but you didn’t mind. after all, you’ve grown used to the hustle bustle of football season. nothing like the fast life. dinners, meetings, panels, runways, and parties. you’re supporting joe through it all, and he notices. hell, everyone notices.

the first dinner you all have together is after a runway show in cannes.

you’re chatting with a woman sitting next to you, laughing and sipping a glass of white wine. joe is on the other side of you, catching up with JJ and some of the other guys. of course the topic has reverted back to football, hard to avoid with those two at the table together. JJ and another friend are in a heated discussion about the rules surrounding taunting when the food arrives.

when the plates hit the table, joe watches your actions from the corner of his eye. you pick at your side choice, before putting the smallest bite into your mouth. reaction almost immediate, you turn to joe with a grimace that he knows all too well.

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head back and forth as he begins to eat his own meal, “i told you. i knew you wouldn’t like them cooked that way.”

you did this every time the two of you had dinner somewhere new. you like to order something you’d usually never try on the menu, in hopes of enjoying it. and joe, who knows you better than anyone, always warns you against it. then every single time, you flash him an adorable smile and say the same thing, “well, when in___”

this started when he brought you to ohio for the first time. the two of you were having lunch in cincy before heading to athens to meet his parents. you inquired about ‘cincinnati chili’, to which joe explained and confessed that even he didn’t enjoy chili served over spaghetti. but you had said “well, when in cincinnati!” with such excitement, that he didn’t have the heart to argue further.

the hometown specialty almost made you puke all over his childhood bedroom hours later. flash forward some years and the song and dance was still the same.

you shake your head, trying to lie. you’re stubborn. the last thing you want to do is admit he was right about this…again.

you attempt another bite, poking the food around your white, porcelain plate. “it’s not that bad joey…i kinda like it…”

you’re lying through your teeth. joe knows. he always does. the man has been reading you like a playbook since college.

so with a sigh he picks up both of your plates, making easy work of switching them. this is also a reoccurring affair. joe always orders something he knows you’ll enjoy, pretty much expecting you not to like your exotic choices. he never tells you this of course. but he’s not picky, so no harm no foul.

you frown down at your new dinner, as much as it looks delicious, you feel bad taking your boyfriend’s food. “no joey you don’t have to do that. i’ll eat it i swear!”

joe just gives you an affectionate eye roll, tapping your thigh a few times under the table, “eat baby.” he gently commands, picking up a fork and beginning to eat your rejected meal. his hand lingers, and you intertwine it with yours, leaning over and placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. you murmur a thank you against his skin, joe hums in response.

unbeknownst to you both, the people across from you were tuned in to the entire exhange. sharing amused glances with JJ, who just shrugs, “they’ve always been like this.”

the two of you resume eating, when the man across from joe speaks up in an amused tone, “so how long?”

joe looks up, confusion written on his face, “excuse me?” he swallows a bite and decides you’re right. this isn’t good at all, but he’s gonna eat every bite.

the man chuckles, sipping his drink. “sorry i didn’t mean to pry. it’s just, you two remind me of me and my wife early on in our marriage. i just assumed you must be newlyweds.”

the words catch your attention and your eyes turn into saucers. newlyweds? did the two of you really act married? the idea of being joe’s for life, officially; your stomach twists in lovesick knots. sure you’ve definitely thought about it. after all, you’ve been by his side for almost 5 years now. but you didn’t know where joe stood when it came to life long commitment. the idea that he might not want that with you, is sorta frightening. you don’t have time to overthink it though, a couple of ladies pulling you back into busy conversation.

justin gives joe a knowing smirk. he holds a hand up and wiggles his fingers, pretending he’s wearing a ring. an action he used to do back when joe would ditch them to hang out with you after lsu practices.

you’re so preoccupied you don’t notice joe’s hand playing with yours a little later into the meal. he takes one of your daily rings off of your index finger, slipping it onto the special one next to your pinky. he twirls it around a couple times, smiling fondly.

the rest of your days abroad pass in pictures of time. you and joe eating croissants early in the morning. sneaking kisses in your hotels elevator. joe asking if he had anything in his teeth before walking in a backless suit.

“were you planning on smiling on the runway babe?” you teased.

joe just shrugs, “maybe. it’s hard not to when i know you’re watching me.”

before you know it, it’s the vogue world after party, marking your last night before returning to the states. the night is lots of fun, full of mingling and laughter. although…there’s something up with your boyfriend. you’re not sure what, but he seems almost anxious. it’s usually out of joe’s character to be antsy, they call him joe cool for a reason. he’s been fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down every time the two of you were sitting. he’s quiet, but still sweet to you in a way that’s reassuring you that he’s okay. you blame his odd behavior on exhaustion, or maybe his social battery draining. maybe even the strobe lights are giving him a headache, which is bittersweet because they make his blues shine so well.

it’s well past midnight, and you’re sitting on joe’s lap wearing a black dress that compliments his outfit. you’re chatting with some people while

your boyfriend sits silently. you have no idea, but his mind is running a mile a second. one of his hands is wrapped around your waist, the other twirling stands of your hair that sit against the back of your dress. his heart thumps against his chest as he uses his leverage against you to raise himself up. he takes a deep breath, and leans his body forward to reach your ear. “you wanna get out of here?” deep voice rumbles from his chest and tickles your ear. it makes a shiver run up your spine.

you turn your head to look behind you, your noses are almost touching this way. the loose curl sitting against his forehead is begging you to brush it away. you resist the urge.

“sure babe, if you’re ready?”

joe looks at you with a look so full of adoration you think you might melt. he presses a quick kiss to your lips, “i’m ready. i already called the car.”

paris is stunning late at night, lights twinkling across the city. joe watches you stare out the cab window. he looks at you the way he has all night, full of love and an indescribable devotion. you’re so mesmerized by the landscape you don’t even notice you’ve passed your hotel until joe clears his throat.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion when joe turns your head to face him. “do you trust me?” the question is serious, but his voice is kind of rocky. like he’s nervous. but what for?

you nod your head with a laugh, “of course joey. why?”

joe smiles and deflects from the question. “alright. close your eyes for me then.”

now you’re really confused. you tilt your head at him, watching as the smile remains on his face. he’s really waiting on you to close your eyes. well, you choose to honor you words, closing your eyes tightly. you’re guessing a surprise is in store.

you feel the car slow to a stop. your hands drum on your lap, anticipation building in your gut.

joe places a hand on your thigh. “don’t get out yet, i’ll come around and get you.”

you nod your head, eyes still clenched to prove your honesty. you hear a car door shut and footsteps coming closer.

joe takes a deep breath, crisp night air filling his lungs. a shaky hand grips your car door, pulling it open.

you hear joe thank the driver, before he gently takes hold of your hands. he guides you to stand and step out of the car. you hear the cab drive away and your heart thumping in your ears.

the warmth of joe’s hands covers your eyes, making you laugh. whatever this surprise is, joe’s pretty adamant in not wanting you to spoil it.

you begin walking forward at joes command. “we almost there?”

you feel your body turn to the right, and suddenly the presence of his hands disappears.

“alright. open em’” he backs away from you, hands shoved into black pants.

you open your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the lights blinking all over the place. you gasp at what’s in front of you, your eyes trailing upwards. “joe…you…”

he grants you a chuckle, eyes crinkling in the way you adored. “you didn’t think we’d leave before i let you see the eiffel tower did you?”

you just stare at the beautiful structure in front of you, trying to convince yourself it was real. there’s something so breathtaking about being in front of something you’ve only seen in photos.

joe is staring at you with the same fascination that you’re giving a wonder of the world. 5 years and you still make the confidence flee from him. you take his breath away simply by being well, you. he’s been a nervous wreck all day. but staring at you right now, in the middle of paris. he’s never been so sure of anything.

you’re rubbing your bare arms, but the cold isn’t even bothering you.

that doesn’t matter to joe. he slips his charcoal jacket off, draping it over your shoulders. you feel strong arms around you, a comfortable warmth covering you. joe rests his chin on your shoulder, turning and placing a few kisses on your cheek. his nose cold against your skin, but you still welcome the contact.

a content sigh escapes you, “it’s so stunning, isn’t it? there’s something so romantic about it.”

joe nods, but to be honest he’s barely even glanced at the tower. he calls your name, his voice cracking is like a bullet shooting through his ego.

you turn to face him, a grin on your face. “i know i keep saying it but thank you. thank you so much for bringing me here.”

joe’s response doesn’t miss a beat, “i’d take you anywhere. i want to take you everywhere, show you the world. that’s what you deserve.”

the sincerity of his words coupled with the setting make your heart soar. suddenly he unravels himself from you. you turn around to face him confused. you open your mouth to question him but he interrupts you by grabbing your hands, squeezing them with his own.

“i love you. i’ve loved you for 5 years and somehow i still love you more each day. you’re the best part of me. you make me a better man, and i wanna be that man for you, always.” joe’s voice is strained as if he’s getting emotional. it’s so rare to see from him. the fact that he’s getting choked up over you. his love for you nonetheless, you feel your own throat tighten. you feel your eyes well up with tears. joe brings your intertwined hands to rest against his chest, his heart pounding in a way he’s sure you feel. the night air sweeps his hair around, that single curl waving at you.

“the first time i thought you to ohio, i saw howmuch my family loved you…and i realized something.”

that was only 6 months into your relationship. a spring break in march that joe wanted to spend with his family. he asked you to tag along and although you were petrified, you agreed. you’ve never felt nervous around his family after that, quite the opposite actually.

suddenly joe steps back from you, a hand reaching into his pocket. the implication of what’s happening makes your mouth dry up. it’s like you’re frozen, just staring at him with wide eyes.

“i–i went out and got this as soon as we got back to baton rouge. i’ve held on to it all this time….and i brought it with me because i thought well, when in france. right?” joe tries his best to keep his voice steady, a nervous chuckle escaping him. and sure enough, a little black, velvet box appears in his hand.

a hand flies to your mouth, and you look around as if a camera crew is going to appear and tell you you’re being pranked. but alas, it’s just you, joe, and the eiffel tower.

“joe….” the tears are definitely flowing now, silently down your face. you couldn’t believe your eyes. this was really happening. right now. in paris at almost 2 in the morning.

you watch as joe gets down on one knee. he tries to tame his trembling hands as he opens the little box, but to no avail. the quarterback that is usually so collected, has crumbled down to mush that you hold in the palm of your hand.

joe perches the box in between his hands, early morning moonlight dances across the diamond ring.

he breathes your name like a prayer, “i meant what i said. i would want to do this. or anything, with anyone else. i want to be yours forever if you’ll have me. so angel, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

joe flashes you that boyish smile that you fell in love with all those years ago. it’s then that you realize it isn’t just joe kneeling before you.

it’s the handsome transfer student from ohio that asks you where bronson hall is. it’s the boy that invites you to watch him play football, and forgets to mention he’s the new star quarterback. it’s the guy your friends ask about when you’re blushing at brunch. it’s the teary eyed heisman trophy winner who thanks you in his speech. it’s the cincinnati bengal who trusts you decorate the new apartment you share together. it’s the guy that plays catch with your younger family members at thanksgiving. it’s your boyfriend that invited you to france. it’s your joe.

this is the easiest question you’ve ever been asked.

“yes. oh my fucking god! a million times yes!” you exclaim, heels clicking the pavement as you jump up and down a couple of times. you’re confused when you look down and see joe still kneeling below you, his grin rivaling the city lights. then you realize, you don’t have the ring on yet. “oh fuck which hand is it?!” your brain is so frazzled, you just stick both hands out toward him.

joe gently grabs your left hand, ring perfectly slipping onto your ring finger. he admires it for a moment and places a kiss on your knuckles.

he’s standing up straight for less than a second before you’re pouncing on him, throwing your arms around him. you pull his neck down toward you, crashing your lips together in a bruising kiss.

joe returns your affection quickly. hands find home holding your face, thumbs dusting away tears. this kiss is different than any you’ve had in the past. it’s a seal. a promise. a sign of your devotion to one another deepening after tonight.

the two of you stay like that for a moment. so caught up in one another. the anticipation of a lifetime together makes you feel as light as a feather.

the two of you break away with sharp inhales, crisp air filling your lungs. you remove your hands from his neck, instead grabbing his in your own and giving a laugh at their state, “babe. you’re shaking.”

joe nods, tongue darting out to lick his lips. he gives your hands a squeeze. “yeah well. good thing i got you to keep me steady.”

the ride back to the hotel is full of giggles and light touches. the ring on your finger is like a magnet to your eyes. you can’t look away, even as joe is extra affectionate; kissing all over your cheek and the side of your neck. you’re so full of love it feels hard to breathe.

“hey joey?”

your boyfriend fiancée pulls his head back to look you in the eyes, “yeah, pretty?”

you put your now ring clad hand on joe’s chest. he looks down at it with a smirk, before meeting your eyes once again.

“what do you think about that backless suit for the wedding?”

#joe burrow x reader #x reader #joe burrow x you #joe burrow fic #joe burrow

510 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 1 month ago

Text

To Feel Your Body Against Mine

Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Word count-4.5k

Prompt- secret relationship

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), secret relationship, feelings, praise, sex in a public bathroom, softness, oral (f receiving), creampie, alcohol mention, a shitty ex, attempted assault (not detailed), mild violence (not against reader), happy ending, reader is a bartender/waitress, reader is Santi's sister but not physically described at all other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- For @burntheedges Roll a Trope writing challenge! I'm so excited to be able to participate and I got such a fun trope too! And I definitely made myself hot and bothered writing that second spicy scene lol! I hope everyone enjoys this!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

“Mmm… Frankie…” you moaned as you leaned your head back against the bathroom mirror.

He hummed your name in your ear as he smirked against your face.

“We’re gonna get caught if we take too much longer,” you huffed as you felt the warm embrace of his body against yours.

“Yeah,” he groaned as he thrust into you, “But you feel so fucking good, baby,” his tone dropped as he thrusted again, “Can’t fucking stop.”

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as your eyes rolled back into your head.

Frankie had you on the bathroom counter in the employee bathroom at the bar you worked at. The moment the two of you had the chance to slip away, you took it, and quickly you clawed each other’s clothes off, desperate for one another. To have his cock fill you up again filled that need that left you feeling empty. To be connected to him once more was something that your body, and your heart, craved more than anything. To feel his strong arms around you as you wrapped your legs around his waist made everything feel perfect, even if you were currently in a dirty bathroom.

And Frankie’s feelings reflected yours. From the moment he first met you all those years ago, he instantly fell for you. And to finally have you in his arms, to feel himself inside your pussy, to be able to call you his… it was better than heaven for him. Even from the second he walked into the bar and saw you with the drink mixer in your hand, the way your breasts swung then you shook it, he knew he was going to fuck you in the bathroom the moment he got the chance.

Your relationship was perfect. Even from the first night you spent together, it felt as if the two of you had been together for years. Everything just fell into place perfectly, like you were two puzzle pieces that finally clicked together to form the picture that was your life. Everything felt right. Everything felt perfect, like things were the way they should be.

It was almost perfect that is. There was only one problem: no one knew. No one could know. Because you were Santigo’s sister.

“He’ll freak out if he finds out about us,” you had once told Frankie, “Let’s just keep it between us for now. We’ll figure out the right time to tell him later.”

But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered to Frankie now was you. You were the entire world to him as he fucked you in the bar bathroom. The way your mouth dropped open to let the beautiful cries flow freely was more intoxicating to him than the drinks you served. The way your breasts swung with his every thrust was captivating. The way your inner muscles clenched around his cock sent jolts of pleasure up his spine.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good,” he groaned.

Sweat lined your brow as you clung to Frankie. One hand buried itself in his hair, tugging hard, while the other dug into his broad shoulder. All you could do was scream in pleasure as he rocked faster into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck! Frankie, right there!” you moaned as you arched your back.

With one harsh grunt, Frankie thrust forward and both of you fell apart at the same time. You and Frankie both cried out as your bodies trembled against each other. Clinging to each other for dear life, you moaned loudly. Thankfully, the loud music from the bar drowned out your screams, yet at the time neither of you cared about that. All you cared about was the other as you rode out your climaxes together.

Frankie huffed as he stilled himself inside you for a moment, hot and sweaty from the passionate lovemaking in the tiny bathroom. He let out a deep breath as he opened his eyes for a moment before closing them again to kiss you deeply. He savored the taste of you on his tongue as he slowly and carefully pulled out of you, swallowing the whimper you let out. His hand cupped the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheek tenderly.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours.

“So are you, Frankie,” you smirked back at him before you kissed him again. But, as much as you wanted the moment to last forever, you knew time was against you. “We really do need to get back now,” you sounded disappointed, “Don’t want anyone to get suspicious.”

Frankie’s face dropped; he didn’t want the moment to end yet either, “Yeah,” he nodded as he helped you dress before slipping his own clothes back on.

Placing his trusty hat back on his head, you gave him one last kiss, “You go first. I’ll be behind you in a second.”

His dark, pleading eyes looked into yours as three words rushed to the tip of his tongue. But, just like every time before, they remained unspoken as he unlocked and left the bathroom.

You let out a deep sigh as you turned to the mirror and adjusted yourself for a moment before you also left your little hideaway and went back to the real world. The real world where as far as anyone was concerned, you and Frankie were just friends.

You grinned from behind the bar as you watched the guys at their table. Santiago, your brother, and the guys who got each other through tough times that you couldn’t even imagine all laughed together. The four of them best of friends, brothers in arms. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you could tell they enjoyed their time together, as they always did when the four of them convened.

“There you are, nena!” Santiago exclaimed as you walked up to the table with a tray of drinks, “Where’ve you been?”

Frankie swallowed nervously, but hid it under the brim of his hat.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s busy in here,” you gestured over your shoulder to the crowd at the bar, “Some of us work for a living,” you added with a smirk. Glancing over for a brief moment, you caught Frankie’s eye and saw him relax his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah,” Santiago shrugged, “As long as these assholes keep their hands to themselves and off my sister.” He shit a pointed glare towards another table of guys who made no effort to hide the way they checked you out when you walked by.

Will and Benny burst into laughter before Will spoke up, “Man you really have the overprotective brother thing down pat, don’t you, Pope?”

“Yeah,” Benny added as he sipped his drink.

Santiago rolled his eyes, “Shut up, assholes.”

You mirrored your brother’s eye roll before you turned and walked away, aware of a pair of eyes stealthily on your ass as you did so. A grin lit up your face while your back was to the guys.

Chatter echoed around him as he lost himself in your figure as the guys went back to their conversation. Vaguely, he was aware they were reminiscing about good times in the past before they turned their attention to Benny’s upcoming fight. The Miller brothers seemed to focus more on each other as Will gave his usual encouraging words to his little brother.

“Que pasas, hermano?” Santiago asked, noticing Frankie’s distant expression.

Frankie shook himself out of his thoughts and back to his best friend, “Nada,” he replied a little too quickly, “Nothing,” he repeated in a more leveled tone, “Just thinking is all,” he said as he took a sip of his drink and savored the taste that mixed with your that lingered on his tongue.

“That’s dangerous,” Santiago quipped playfully.

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted his hat. After a breath, Frankie chose his words carefully so as to not arouse suspicion, “Would it really be so bad if your sister found someone? Like found the right someone who treats her well?”

He pointed a stare at him for a moment before he took a swig of his drink and answered, “If it were the right person, yeah. She has a habit of picking real shitty ones though,” Santiago made a face as he pictured a particular ex of yours. But, he decided Frankie’s question was harmless, “But for now, I got my best friends watching over her when I can’t,” he placed a hand on his shoulder, “Thanks man, I know I can count on you.”

Frankie gave him a smile that hid the way he truly felt, “Anytime, man.”

“Oh Frankie… Ay mierda,” you moaned as you writhed on his bed.

The moon was high in the sky, illuminating Frankie’s bedroom. It was just the right amount of light to make for a romantic night in, and Frankie took full advantage of it. In between your legs he found a bliss unlike anything else. There was only one place he loved kissing you more than your lips…

Frankie groaned into you as he dug his hands into your thighs. As much as he wanted to tell you how beautiful you were or how delicious you tasted, he just couldn’t break himself away from your pussy. He slurped loudly, not caring how obscene the sounds he made were, especially when they made you moan and make such lovely sounds.

“Ay dios mio,” you cried out as one hand landed in his hair while the other clutched onto the sheets for dear life. The way his tongue so expertly found all your sensitive spots never ceased to amaze you… and always left you breathless.

Another growl emitted from deep within Frankie’s throat as he devoured you with even more fervor. His tongue swirled around your clit, making you whimper with every pass, and he could tell you were close.

Let me taste your cum, baby, he thought as he ran his tongue up and down your folds. The tip of his nose hit your clit as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, darting it in and out a few times before running back up. The moment his lips wrapped around your clit, you screamed and tugged at his hair.

“Frankie! Fuck!” you cried out as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

He tightened his grip on you as he sucked hard on your clit. And that was all it took to send you over the edge. With a loud scream, you came hard against his face, rocking your hips against his prominent nose as you rode out your climax.

Like a man dying of thirst, Frankie greedily lapped up your release as he kept his rhythm with his tongue. He didn’t want to waste a drop of your sweet juices, and he didn’t want to stop until you were entirely spent. His cock strained with need, but he ignored it in favor of your pleasure.

With one last gasp, you flopped down limp on the bed, and Frankie broke away from your cunt with a loud pop. He wanted your body through glazed over eyes as his chin glistened with your cum. He watched with fiery eyes as your breasts rose and fell with your heavy breaths as you came down from your high.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy, baby,” he growled as he lunged forward and captured your lips with his own.

You moaned into him as you wrapped your arms and legs around his body as he covered you. A rumble from Frankie’s chest reverberated between your bodies as he rutted against you.

“I need you, baby,” Frankie sounded so desperate, “Fuck I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then fuck me, Francisco,” you mewled as you bucked your hips against his, feeling his rock hard cock against your slick pussy.

All he could do was growl as he angled his hips against you. Frankie slipped a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your entrance, and the moment the tip hit your wetness, you both gasped.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed as he easily slid into you, your pussy still soaking wet from how avidly he devoured you.

“Oh my god…” you dropped your head back onto the mattress as you felt his cock stretch you out. You groaned and dug your nails into his back as you surrendered yourself to him completely.

“Shit I’m not gonna last long with how fucking good you feel,” Frankie muttered as he started to rock in and out of you, feeling your walls around him with every thrust.

Any words escaped your mind the moment he started thrusting in and out of you. All you could do was moan and hold onto him as his cock filled you over and over again. In the moonlight, Frankie fucked you with everything he had. You felt the passion behind every thrust of his hips, and the way he held you while he ravaged you was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

This was not just fucking. Frankie was making love to you in both the sweetest and roughest way he could. And it was everything you needed and more. Just as he was addicted to you and your pussy, you were addicted to him. You clawed at his back, pulling him closer as if you couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted to feel every inch of his body against you while his thick cock filled you up over and over again. You wanted… need him more than air.

Frankie was mesmerized by you. Before you pulled him closer, he watched as your breasts swung wildly with every thrust of his hips. And as he covered you with his body, he could feel your heart pound in your chest. He couldn’t get enough of the way you wrapped your arms and legs around him, wordlessly telling him you needed more, needed him closer.

And he was happy to oblige.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he murmured your name over and over with every thrust, “Baby I’m close.” Sweat lined his brow, making the thick locks of hair stick to his forehead.

“Cum in me, Frankie,” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against his, “Let me feel you.”

Your words alone almost made him lose control. But Frankie wasn’t going over the edge without you, so he snaked his hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as his touches sent jolts of pleasure up your spine, “Frankie…”

“I know baby,” he moaned, “I’ve got you…”

His thrusts became erratic as the room spun around him. Moans and cries of pleasure echoed between your bodies, and neither of you were sure who made which sounds. It didn’t matter anyway, you were connected at one, fitted together perfectly as if you were meant for each other.

Frankie felt his orgasm quickly approaching; with every thrust he was closer and closer. And from the way your inner muscles squeezed his cock, he could tell you were just as close. Pounding into you with fervor, Frankie growled your name as he came hard enough to see stars.

You screamed against his lips as your second climax hit at the same time. Clutching onto Frankie tightly, you trembled underneath him as you came together. Passions exploded between your bodies as Frankie rode out both your climaxes. Tears fell down your cheeks as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through your body. And a shiver ran up your spine as you felt Frankie’s release fill you to the brim while he moaned against your face.

With one last huff, Frankie thrust as deep as he could into you before he collapsed down on top of you with a grunt. You wheezed as the added weight was sudden, but you both burst into laughter as you both went limp against each other. Frankie planted light kisses on the side of your head as he caught his breath and his cock softened inside you. A chill of his own ran up his spine as your laughter sent shocks to his overstimulated cock.

“That was amazing, baby,” Franie murmured in your ear.

“You’re amazing, Frankie,” you whispered back, kissing him wherever you could while you ran your hands up and down his broad back.

Frankie broke away to gaze into your eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. Again, three words were on the tip of his tongue. He could have said them. He should have said them. You looked so beautiful underneath him in the moonlight. There was no better time than now…

Yet, he didn’t. Instead he said, “I got you,” as he slowly pulled out of you, causing you both to hiss. Frankie gave you an apologetic look when he was fully out of you, and he couldn’t help but glance down and watch his release spill out of your pussy.

He licked his lips, and for a moment he contemplated devouring you once more. But, his muscles ached, and Frankie felt the overwhelming need just to hold you close, to feel your body against his.

Reaching for a tissue on his bedside, Frankie gently, tenderly cleaned you up as you whimpered from the touch. You were overstimulated as well, but in the best way possible. Not wanting to leave your side even for a moment, he just tossed the tissue aside and laid down next to you, gathering you in his arms. You sighed contently as you pressed a light kiss to his chest before you laid your head down comfortably.

“Hey baby?” Frankie broke the silence after several moments.

“You alright, Frankie?” You noticed the change in his tone, which made you worry. You rested your hand on his chest, feeling his heart under your palm.

“Do you ever think maybe we should tell Santiago about… us?”

You let out a deep sigh as you savored the warmth of his embrace for a moment, “I do hate hiding from him,” you admitted, “But I’m just scared to, you know?” Truthfully, you were sure he wouldn’t be as mad as you feared, yet something nagged at you about it. Perhaps because he reacted so badly to the last person you dated, yet he had good reason to. This time, however, it was Frankie, and who would deny Frankie? And the longer this went on, the more frightened you became. You dug yourself in this hole and the longer you hid in it, the more difficult you knew climbing out of that hole would be.

“I know,” he comforted you with a squeeze, “But we can do it together. He can’t be mad for too long,” he let out a soft laugh.

You chuckled, “You’re right,” you hummed in agreement, “We’ll pick a time to sit down with him and tell him the truth, and Will and Benny too.”

“Sounds good, baby,” he kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right there with you, I promise,” Frankie paused and took a deep breath, “But for now, let’s get some sleep.”

It was a quieter night at work, which you were thankful for. So many crowded nights were great for your paycheck, but left you completely exhausted. A few regulars and some newcomers sat scattered around the bar, but you still had some time to just lean against the wall and rest for a bit. It was a calm, peaceful night.

Until the one person you never wanted to see again walked through the doors.

Immediately you were on edge from the moment you saw his sly face, “Ernesto,” you spat through gritted teeth, “What are you doing here?”

His grin sent shivers down your spine, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t miss you,” your tone was cold as you held yourself strong, “Get out of here.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” he leaned in close, invading your space and placing a hand on your shoulder, “Give me another chance. I’ve changed.”

“No!” you pushed his hand off your shoulder. But, before you could step away from him, he grabbed your wrist, “Let me go, Ernesto!”

Just as he tried to yank you close enough to him to kiss you, he was ripped away in a flash. Before he could even grunt in confusion, Ernesto found himself stumbling away from you and a man stood between you and him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he snapped.

“Frankie,” you breathed in relief.

“She told you no, so get the fuck out of here before I have to hurt you,” Frankie growled, sounding very unlike his usual self.

“Fuck off, she’s mine,” Ernesto lunged for Frankie, fists winging.

Frankie clenched his jaw and waited for the opportunity to present itself. In between the flurry of hands from Ernesto, there was an opening. It only took one hit, one precise punch from Frankie right in his nose to send him careening back. Ernesto landed on the floor with a grunt, and all the air was forced out of his lungs as he saw stars from hitting his head.

In a rage, Frankie stepped forward and grabbed Ernesto’s collar, peeling him off the floor, “Have anything to say now, pendejo?” he growled.

It took him a moment to re-orientate himself before he stuttered, “N-no,” all the fight had left Ernesto’s body, “I’m going. I’m going,” he pleaded as he scrambled away and bolted for the door. Frankie watched to make sure he left before he quickly rushed over to you.

Santiago hopped out of his truck before he strolled toward the bar you worked at. He had some free time and decided to come see you, especially since he noticed you had been acting differently lately. He cared for you more than anything, and he only ever wanted the best for his sister and only family. He was in a good mood, but as he got closer to the bar, someone burst through the doors and slammed right into him.

“S-sorry,” Ernestro muttered as he looked up from where his gaze was pointed at the ground, “I didn’t mean to… You!” he gasped, recognizing Santiago.

“You!” he snarled as he grabbed Ernesto’s shirt, “What the fuck are you doing here?!” Santiago was ready to hit him, enraged when he thought about how he treated you in the past, but when he noticed the broken nose and blood from his face, he paused.

Ernesto took the opportunity in his hesitation to slip out of his grip and run away. Santiago thought about going after him, but his priority was more on his sister’s safety, so he ran inside to check on you. And when he rushed through the doors, the sight that met him froze him in his tracks.

Frankie was there, holding you tightly and whispering into your ear as you nuzzled into his shoulder. He couldn’t hear what exactly he said, but he could tell Frankie was whispering words of comfort into your ear in between feather light kisses. Santiago wasn’t sure how to feel and he stood in dumbfounded stillness for several moments.

“What the hell is going on here?” his voice was a low grumble as the emotions slipped out before he could stop them.

You gasped as you snapped your head up from where it rested on Frankie’s shoulder, “Santi…” you breathed, tears still fresh in your eyes, “I can explain,” you scrambled out of his arms and up to your feet.

Frankie followed right behind you, “Pope, I…” he started before he was interrupted.

“Wait,” you hissed to both of them, noticing the stares from the few patrons in the bar, “Can we take this outside?” You really did not want an audience.

Santiago remained tense, but looked around and nodded. In silence, the three of you slipped out and towards your brother’s truck for some privacy. The tension was palpable as you made your way out of the bar. Yet, Frankie still slid his hand in yours despite the glare from Santiago.

“Santi, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you blurted out, “We just…”

“How long?” Santiago cut you off with a simple question, “How long have you kept this from me?”

All the breath felt like it was punched out of your lungs and suddenly you realized why he was so angry. All your life, it had been just you and Santi; brother and sister alone in the world. You trusted each other with everything, and you were all each other had. This was the first time you kept something from him, and you noticed the hurt in his eyes that you felt like you had to hide this from him.

“A few months,” Frankie answered for you in a quiet voice.

Santiago let out a heavy sigh as his shoulders dropped and the tough person melted away. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked between the two of you, “And you couldn’t tell me this whole time?” his tone was softer than before, and the hurt was apparent.

“Santi,” you started, taking a step forward, “I’m sorry.”

He glanced at you before he stepped past you and met Frankie face to face, “Will you take care of her?” he asked, “You’ll never hurt her?”

Frankie’s eyes softened, “Yeah,” he breathed, “I swear, man,” he continued, “I’d never do anything to hurt her,” he paused, “I’m in love with your sister, man.”

The confession made both you and Santiago’s mouths drop open in surprise. “Frankie…” you gasped in a whisper from behind your brother.

Santiago recovered first, “Fuck, bro,” he smiled through the emotions, “Guess I can’t be too pissed at you… You did kick her ex’s ass pretty damn good.” He turned over his shoulder and smiled genuinely at you before turning back to Frankie, “Just don’t make out or do any of that shit in front me, ok?” he said, putting his hand on his shoulder.

The relief showed on Frankie’s face as he too broke out into a smile. His hand landed on Santiago’s shoulder as you also sighed in relief behind them. “Deal,” he said before the two friends embraced.

Santiago turned to you and took you up in his arms, hugging you tightly.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you, Santi,” you whispered to him as you hugged him back.

Breaking away from the hug, he kept his hands on your forearms, “I get why you didn’t,” he said softly, “I can be a little much when it comes to my family.” He turned between you and Frankie, “How about we celebrate? Drinks are on me.”

“Do I have to make them?” you teased.

Santiago and Frankie both laughed as you all embraced each other. Your brother patted you both on the shoulder before he ushered you both to his truck. Frankie slipped his hand in yours, happy to finally be able to take your hand in public without the fear of getting caught. A new chapter in your lives was just starting, and finally everything was absolutely perfect.

596 notes · View notes

multifandomme · 1 month ago

Text

Stolen Power

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader

Summary: Agent Prentiss cuts you a deal that you cannot refuse.

Genre: Smut, (strap-ons, roleplay, restraints, light gunplay, praise, scratching, semi-public sex, teasing, humiliation, coercion, power dynamics), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 2.2k.

This piece is for day 2 of kinktober under the 'roleplay' prompt.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

––--– ♡ –––--

The glacial metal of handcuffs encircled your wrists, tightly, bound to leave engravings in the wake of their agonising hold. Emily had delighted in the prospect of incapacitating you, trapped inside the four walls of the interrogation room, anchored to a chair.

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl, haven’t you?” Her enjoyment was blatant, striding around the room with a confidence that radiated in abundance, a powerfulness that until now, had remained undiscovered.

“You tell me,” you challenged, dauntlessly, “I thought it was your job to figure that out or am I mistaken?”

“Agent Prentiss,” Emily corrected, sternly, her eyes narrowed in displeasure as she sauntered sexily towards you. “You will address me as Agent Prentiss, is that clear?”

The newfound dominance undeniably looked good on her, the sparkles that flickered in her dark irises causing shivers to suffuse along your spine. A subtle smirk plucked at the corner of her mouth, a glimpse of brilliant white peeking out from behind cherry-stained lips. Suddenly, the countless times she had spent gasping below you evaporated from your mind, replaced with a new reality that rendered you helpless and entirely at her mercy.

“Yes, Agent Prentiss.”

“You know, I’m going to put you away for a long time,” she threatened, huskily, a finger snaking its way beneath your chin, forced to meet her unwavering gaze. “And I don’t think you’ll do too well in prison.”

An audible gulp freed itself from you, your attention momentarily diverted to the cleavage that had jostled its way out from the deep teal silk that shrouded it. The stolen glance did not go unnoticed as Emily withdrew from you, a scoff of disapproval bursting out into the silence.

“Oh, I’ll be just fine,” you countered, smugly, intent on riling her enough to draw her back to you. “I’m sure the girls in prison will really appreciate what I have to give, Agent Prentiss.”

And then, a twinkle of unrestrained thrill flared amidst the onyx and without time to calibrate, she had strutted her way back to you, a hand clasped harshly around your throat.

“That pretty mouth will get you in trouble,” Emily warned, vehemently, her tongue swiping the underside of her teeth, her glare unabated, stricken with lust.

Emily battled earnestly to conceal her arousal from you to no avail, this pretence of anger as flimsy as the silk she wore. In fact, the fervour that clouded her seemed to permeate the room with such intensity that the air had grown thick, torrid.

“My mouth can do a lot of things, Agent Prentiss,” you provoked, undeterred by the way her grasp toughened around your words. “But that isn’t all I have to offer.”

With a forceful jolt, Emily released you, a certain curiosity cloaking her expression as she paused to rake her eyes over the entirety of your frame. Boldly, you drove your hips up from the chair, your attempt at an escape thwarted instantly by the sudden emergence of Emily’s gun unholstered and prodding into your sternum.

The severity of the threat had stunned you into rigidity, oxygen evading you more now than when Emily had deliberately restricted it earlier with her hands. Silence prevailed, obstructed only by the quaking breaths that emitted from you, the force of her gun dissipating until she halted, the pistol trained on the space betwixt your thighs. A subconscious shiver rattled its way over you, secretly enthralled by her supremacy, the gun merely deepening the allure. You weren’t scared at all, no, you were excited.

“I thought I frisked you for weapons,” Emily uttered, shaking her head lightly as she drew backwards, quick to rescind the threat and deposit her pistol upon the table.

“Not well enough,” you mused, taunting her, the materialisation of Emily’s roaming hands occurring to you as they smoothed over the bulge you were hiding. “You want to see what it can do, Agent Prentiss?”

A sharp exhale sounded from her, tongue sneaking out to paint a fresh coat of saliva over her lips until they glistened beneath the piercing light.

“You see, a gun incites fear, will have you begging for your life,” you acknowledged, a short-lived vibration shuddering over you as Emily unzipped your trousers and hustled the appendage from its confinements. “But this, Agent Prentiss…” you smirked, revelling in the way that her lip had found itself pinched firmly between her teeth, “this will make you scream, make you beg for more.”

A wry chuckle sprung from her as she regarded you, surprisingly unaffected by your persistent torment. In an instant, her fist wrapped itself snugly around the base of the strap on. And then, she leaned in tantalisingly close, her breath tousling softly against your ear.

“I’m willing to cut you a deal,” she whispered, enticingly, her head bowing slightly to lick a searing stripe across your pulse point and immediately setting you ablaze. “But, I’m going to need something from you first.”

“I’m listening,” you mumbled, half-convincingly, your mind positively possessed by sinful reveries, Emily at the centre of them all.

“You get me off,” she drawled, sultrily, a series of fleeting pecks pressed to your jaw, “and I’ll let you walk, no questions asked.”

“You’ve got a deal, Agent Prentiss,” you acceded, keenly, a hum of amusement rumbling from her. “Please, get me out of these cuffs and I promise to give you exactly what you want,” you blurted, “No games-”

“No deal,” Emily rebutted, decisively, eliciting a huff of disappointment from you. “The cuffs stay on,” she reiterated, her eyebrow twitching upwards in a wordless warning, “I’m a big girl, I’m sure I can get what I want from you all on my own. You just sit still and be good for me, hm?”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you nodded, her words inspiring sparks of arousal to form and persist, “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

A palpable tension descended, only amplifying when Emily yanked herself away from you and began to unbutton her shirt. The article of clothing was not entirely abandoned, left to splay open freely as Emily shot a cautious look towards the camera that surveyed every angle of the room from above. Bizarrely, the continual red light that beamed outward from it waned to black, and you were unable to shake the gnawing feeling that it wasn’t quite a coincidence at all.

The flash of indigo lace haunted you, approaching until it saturated your vision and the welcome weight of Emily settled into your lap. The intricate patterns of her bra nuzzled against your shirt, soft strands of silver tickling the skin of your cheeks, her breasts almost close enough for you to pepper kisses upon.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Emily questioned, a hint of reticence in her voice as though she was not yet convinced, her hands groping roughly at your breasts as if she was trying to coax out a favourable answer.

The pleasant sensation that bloomed below her exertions saw your wrists twisting aimlessly in the handcuffs, intent on liberation. But the flitting pleasure ceased almost as promptly as it had arrived, Emily’s dazzling orbs hurling daggers as she awaited your response.

“Yes, I’ll be good, Agent Prentiss,” you affirmed, eagerly, though on the interior, you weren’t nearly as confident in your claim. “I promise.”

Emily wrestled an arm around your neck for leverage, her fingernails scraping against the bone of your shoulder blade, destined to inscribe crescents of scarlet thereafter.

“Time to put that pretty mouth to good use,” Emily ruled, her free hand tugging at the lace until her breast sprung forth, her nipple tactfully manipulated into your hungry mouth. “Suck,” she barked, her teeth gritted, and you were more than willing to devour her.

A lengthened hum of contentment rumbled in her throat, her rosy bud stiffening as you pursed your lips around it and suckled with vigour, the occasional flick of your tongue across its surface activating an erratic jerk of her hips. Her sturdy grasp locked you in place, her skin smothering you so delightfully that breathing no longer mattered, too absorbed in the task that she had assigned. You vowed to make her time worthwhile.

“Such a good girl for me,” Emily purred, the gyration of her hips becoming more coordinated, a rhythm falling into place, the strap on nudging against your stomach as she rutted fervently against it. “Don’t stop, just like that.”

The pleasured expression that claimed her features blossomed with clarity, the transcendence of her beauty only invigorating your need to please her. Your tongue manoeuvred ardently, desperate to will more of her into your mouth and satisfy your insatiable hunger. And when she rolled her hips with added force, her jaw slackening as she dragged in a panting breath, you were met with the indisputable reality that you were spellbound, foreordained to fulfil her every demand.

“Oh, fuck,” she quavered, an air of franticness befalling as she disengaged from you, her hands in a frenzy as she purged herself of the trousers she donned. “I think it's time for you to uphold your end of the deal, hm?”

Veiled below translucent, indigo lace, Emily presented herself in all of her glory, a knowing smirk glued to her lips. Coherent thought eluded you altogether, the words that lingered in your mind instantaneously kissed away the moment you caught sight of her.

Emily snickered in amusement, “See something you like?”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you choked out, your mouth uncomfortably dry, your thighs shifting in anticipation of her residence upon them.

“I’ll ask you again,” she growled, provocatively, her hands cinching at her hipbones. “Are you going to give me what I want?”

You nodded avidly, “Of course, Agent Prentiss, anything.”

Emily returned to you in haste, her fingers tracing downwards until they had successfully ripped aside her panties, revealing her arousal. She wasted no time, a trembling moan escaping as she sank down upon your strap on, her weight shifting a little as she readjusted to its size.

“Fuck, it’s big,” she hissed, her tone brimming with zeal as she knotted her arms securely around your neck, her lips temptingly close to your own. “Such a good girl filling me up so well.”

A string of stifled expletives tore from her, hips undulating at a painstaking pace, so torturous that you were certain this little display was a bid to stave off a brewing climax. The metal rattled audibly as you writhed forcibly in the cuffs, the dulling pain of their imprints becoming more noticeable, maddening.

“Aww, poor thing can’t even touch me,” Emily gibed, breathlessly. “You just have to sit there and watch me use you to get off. But, I bet you like that, don’t you, huh?”

“I want to touch you,” you protested, mindlessly, too intoxicated by Emily’s sensual motions to think of anything except having your hands on her. “Please, Agent Prentiss, let me touch you.”

“Nu-uh,” she crooned, a slender digit pressed firmly to your lips as she continued to rock her hips, unperturbed by your resistance. “Good girls do as they’re… told,” she explained, her words briefly obstructed by a sudden gasp of mirth. “Keep your eyes on me, pretty girl,” she instructed, “don’t make me call off the deal.”

Shameless groans sprinkled the silence, Emily’s brow tinged with perspiration as she quickened the pace that she had initially established. The sounds that emitted from below were nothing short of obscene, your eyes flickering downward to regard the way her pussy swallowed the length so effortlessly.

Emily noted the shift in your focus, her forehead pressed against yours to hold your attention captive for a moment. “Do you see how wet I am?” She whispered in sheer delight, “and it's all because of you, pretty girl.”

A pitiful mewl discharged from you, unchecked, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, certain that your skin glowed visibly in pink. Emily let out a breathy chortle, a surge in her expeditiousness only furthering your sense that she was approaching the apex of something more.

Bravely, you drove your hips to meet her movement, her head thrown backwards in utter surprise as you pushed in to the hilt, her hands clinging to you with a force so brutal that it brought a grimace to your face.

“Naughty,” she spat, her breasts bouncing ruthlessly out from her bra as you continued to jog your hips with reckless abandon, her whimpers emboldening you. “Gonna be good and make me cum, hm? That’s it, pretty girl, yes, make me cum all for you.”

Emily’s fingers lowered to rub senselessly at her clit, her climax soon coursing through her body and ripping a loudened squeal from her lips. The muscles of her thighs fluttered in your lap, her breathing heavy, erratic.

“I see why you like being in charge,” Emily admitted, breathily, a chaste kiss delivered to your lips as an afterthought. “It was kind of fun.”

“We could always do it again,” you suggested, observing with a knowing smile as Emily shook her head in conclusive disagreement.

“It’s so tiring,” she whined, wearily, her head drooping forward to rest upon your shoulder. “Besides, I’m all out of favours with Garcia after this one.”

Curiously, you peered upward, noting the re-emergence of the red light and panicking a little inside. “Well, I think she might’ve jumped the gun,” you revealed, nervously, “Because someone’s definitely watching us.”

“Well, fuck.”

––--– ♡ –––--

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds emily prentiss #agent prentiss #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you

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6okuto · 1 year ago

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FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS

gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna

KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about “how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.

HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.

SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”

SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

#haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #hinata x reader #sakusa x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu fluff #x reader

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httpsseli · 4 months ago

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niña ✿; pablo gavira

;plot. in which you’re the innocent bookworm accomplishing tons of tasks and he’s the jock athlete. until one day you two bump into each other, allowing him to explore all kinds of things.

;warnings: vaping, quite a few spanish sentences, a mix of arguing, smut minors dni!! dom!gavi, sub!reader, sort of protected sex but then unprotected sex, (you’ll see later on.. *wink wink*), virginity loss, oral sex (m and f), few sex rounds, multiple orgasms, and squirting.

authors note// oh boy prepare yourselfs for a much longer gavi fic because yes, duhhh🤭 (i dont think this is proofread…)

here you were in the library, editing for the school newspaper through the computer and writing down notes on to your journal. upcoming events, games, updates and somewhat the weather as what was having to be the very new exciting thing. you pushed your glasses up just a tad bit, looking and roaming through the notes of your journal.

“it’s a friday night.. why are you even-“

-hush!" you said, typing as quickly as you could, feeling rushed immediately from your friend's complaining. "come on,y/n. we can just watch a movie and eat a bunch of junk!" your friend tatiana spoke, and sighing, you looked at her and then at diana, your other roommate. "how about this: you two can head to the dorms and catch up with camila. i’ll get home later.”

both girls looked at each other, “fine then, no later than twelve,” tatiana spoke, both girls getting up from the table. 'be safe, hermosa!' diana spoke. you laughed at the nickname as they both left.

after spending an extra 30 minutes editing and submitting the copies, you sighed and closed your laptop. you then carefully placed it in your bag. as you had no other option, you decided to walk down to the lockers and placed your laptop in diana's locker, for reasons that seemed appropriate.

you stride away purposefully, clutching your tote as you brave the cold weather. despite the challenging conditions, you maintain your composure while donning a white sundress adorned with tiny charming blue flower prints. the small cardigan you wear provides a little bit of warmth as you navigate the bustling streets of the college, which you humorously refer to as the "streets of sex, alcohol, and drunks."

as you strolled through the chilly wind, a heavy force collided with me. "watch it!" you exclaimed, forcefully shoving him away. clearly, one of the jocks, not surprising. they were always out to irritate you. "my my, never seen you like this," the boy remarked, but you tried to push him off, yet he already had a grip on your wrist.

"let go of me, what the fuck!" you exclaimed as you tried to break free from his grip. half of the group was watching as a phone light caught your attention. you looked at the guy, hardly kicking his crotch before giving him a firm slap on the back of his neck. "don't you ever touch me again," you said boldly as you walked off quickly. you could hear a voice calling out to you.

gavi, who was a witness to the little fight you caused, now another guy is approaching you. gavi is well-known in the school for his looks, the people he dates, and his skills. almost everybody has his name on their lips. he recognized you just by the way your bag is decorated and the way you dress. sometimes, he'd make slight eye contact with you during the football matches while he'd be warming up, and you would be taking notes, writing everything down in a blue journal with a blue pen topped with a fluffy heart.

him and his friends were all wearing their varsity jackets, very typical of them. luckily he wasn’t far from you, he was standing next to his friend who was particularly, holding onto a vape hitting off it. his friend watched and chuckled watching their other friend get beaten up. “ay adónde vàs, ya basta tu.” where are you going, stop it. gavi spoke.

“ay güapa, you’re looking stunning..” one of the boys spoke, and you scoffed. “not interested.” you said attempting to walk off, “you have a nice pair of balls.” he spoke, you looked at him. “what’d you say?” looking up at him. “i said-“

"fermín, you heard her. she’s not interested," gavi said, gently holding your hands together. "areyou alright?" he asked, noticing your shock. You found yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with the one guy you never thought you'd interact with, admiring his facial features, especially the birthmarks on his face. "y-yeah, i’m fine," you said, trying to compose yourself. gavi turned around, and fermín and his friend started snickering. you looked at both boys, making eye contact with fermín only. as you watched him inhale the vapor and puff out the smoke, you looked away feeling uncomfortable and dismayed.

"a donde vas?” where are you headed? He asked, and as you looked up at him, you felt the chill in the air make your nose and cheeks red. "um, i-i'm heading home," you replied softly. he gently caressed your shoulder and asked, “are you cold?" you nodded in response. "where’s your home?" he inquired. "it’s by the courtyard," you whispered. he nodded, then offered, "i can walk you home if you'd like.

he was different than you thought. you’ve heard him talk about you quite often, saying how weird you are, how you dress like a kid most of the time, and how you've probably never slept with anybody. the last one was a rumor started by him. now you're face to face with him.

you were freezing, your nipples hardening under the lace of your bra, and you swallowed thick. “la vas a llevar para que la folles o que.” you gonna take her to fuck or what Fermín's shout made you and Gavi turn your heads. You shot Fermín a look of disgust before turning to the boy who was still standing in front of you. “i’m supposed to be out on a party right now.. you don’t mind if i take you out somewhere instead, right?” you shook your head, “que la folles.” just fuck her you heard his other friend shout. “excuse me for a moment..” he said, you watched gavi walk over to his friends.

another interaction, there was more arguing. when you heard him speak spanish, it stirred something inside you. "just delete the video and all of you apologize. pobre niña," poor girl he said. the friend group was shocked into silence. you watched gavi as you made your way towards him. "i really have to g-" you started, but was quickly cut off by apologies from his friend, pablo. you remained silent, not saying anything back. when he was done, you nodded your head.

gavi gently placed his hand on your waist and whispered, "let’s head home, sweet girl." you felt a flutter in your stomach at the endearing nickname as the two of you strolled away from the street. "would you mind stopping by the small cafe instead? it’s my treat if you'd like," he suggested, causing your heart to sink a little. you managed to reply, "yeah, that's fine with me." he smiled warmly as you both made your way to the cafe. "but what about your friends?" you asked, looking at him. He chuckled softly. "they’re going to tina’s party. i don’t drink much, and they usually play that bottle game, so i’m not too bothered," he explained. you nodded, crossing your arms for some comfort against the cold.

"oh, spin the bottle... that game is weird," you said. he slightly chuckled, looking at you. "you've played it?" he asked. you shook your head no. "never have. i've heard a bit of experiences from my roommates about it," you said. he smiled. "you're cold, y/n. are you sure you don't want my sweater?" he asked, stopping in his tracks. you turned to look at him. "i-i'm fine," you said. he cupped your cheek, and your eyes looked up at him, your breathing hitched. "takeoff your sweater and hand me your bag," he said. you nodded, handing him your tote, then taking off the small cardigan. he folded the sweater and put it in your bag, then took off his varsity jacket and put it on you.

it was just like you had pictured it, as if it leaped straight out of the pages of a book. a warm smile spread across his face as he tenderly rested his hand on your head. “oh, come on!” you whined, your frustration evident. he chuckled softly and said, “let's go now,' gently holding your bag.

as you and gavi arrived at the cafe, you realized how much shorter you were standing next to him. “here, let’s go over there..” he suggested sitting down, and as you sat across from each other, you felt your cheeks growing warm. you tried to hide your feelings by clearing your throat and sipping your boba drink. “what the hell is that..” he questioned your drink choice, you snickered, “a strawberry lemonade with boba..” you explained it to him. despite his initial comment, you offered him a sip, “want to try it!” you said which he nodded to, taking a sip. “weird ass drink..” despite his comment, you rolled your eyes playfully.

“but, it’s good tho..” he said, you snickered again. you swung your legs around. “what made you take me out?..” you said looking at him, he looked at you. “well, fermín couldn’t stop harassing you, neither did pablo himself..and well, you’re truly a very sweet girl..” he said, his cheeks turning pink. you slightly choked in your drink, nodding your head quickly. “they were mentioning something tho.. something with the letter starting with a f..” you said, this time gavi choked on his drink. “oh yeah.. they’re sexually active geeks, that illustrates the rumors happening..” he said, you giggled.

"my sweater looks very big on you," he said. "really?" you rolled your eyes playfully. "oh, god," you sighed, looking at your phone. "something wrong?" he asked. you sighed, shaking your head, "it’s almost twelve and i’m supposed to be home." he bit his lip as you were distracted texting your friends.

your hair was put in a clawclip ponytail, but he wanted to see you with your hair down. he always thought you were innocent, but maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. he wanted to know. he didn't care if you were weird; he just cared about how you cared about others. "we can leave now if you want," he said. you looked up. "huh? oh, please, if you don’t mind," you said. he nodded, and you got up and grabbed your drink, the two of you walking out.

"let me make sure i understand this: your friends didn't attend the party, but you were supposed to go and you chose to stay with me instead. why?" you asked, to which he replied, "because someone usually ends up wanting to have sex with me, and i absolutely detest that." you furrowed your brows and asked, "do you mean sex itself or just the idea of girls throwing themselves at you?" he hummed in response, "just the idea. it’s ridiculous, and there are always rumors about it. sex is... enjoyable, you could say." you gulped and questioned, "enjoyable?" gavi quickly glanced at you

“yeah..” he spoke, you avoided his look for this time.

“are you not a virgin or?” he said, you looked at him. “um, i-i’ve never.. t-touched someone..” you spoke, “i-i’m still a uh.. v-virgin..” you mumbled. he slightly laughed, “wow you have a long way to go.. you should try it with me.” he mumbled the last part, you frowned.

you exclaimed, “what was that?” he just shrugged. when you looked up, you realized you were home. you sprinted to the door, with him chuckling behind you. as you turned around, he was suddenly face to face with you. you felt your stomach drop as he held your chin and kissed you. you kissed back, feeling his soft, passionate lips. you put your hand on his shoulder as he bit your bottom lip, slipping his tongue in. you squeaked, pulling away.

you indeed did have a long way to go to, his dick hardening slowly in his jeans. “can you.. um.. uh..” you bit your lip, “come inside..” you said, he nodded his head, caressing your cheek. “que niña tan inocente..” such a innocent girl he spoke, you unlocked the door, took his hand, and gestured for silence by placing a finger on his lips. he nodded in agreement as he closed the door behind him. leading the way to your room, with gavi following closely, you entered first and then switched on the lights after closing the door. finally, you placed your drink on the desk.

gavi pressed you against the wall, engaging in a deep, passionate kiss while his hand gently caressed your cheek. you responded eagerly, wrapping your hands around his neck. "i don't know anything," you whined. he stopped moving his lips. "first, take this off," he commanded, tugging on the varsity jacket. you discarded it on the top of your chair in the room., “come here..” he motioned with his fingers, you walked towards him. “volteate..” turn around he whispered softly, his warm hands sending shivers down your back, causing your legs to tremble. as you turned around, he reached for your claw clip and gently unclasped it, letting your hair fall loose. "are you sure about this?" he asked, and you nodded in response.

"are you sure?" you asked, and he turned you around gently. you slipped out of your white flats, caressing his cheeks. "Lie down and trust me, okay?" he said. You nodded and laid down on the bed. he crouched down infront of your panties, a whimper slipping out. he lifted your dress to your stomach, then kissed your thighs. you breathed shakily, running your fingers across the sheets. his lips crossing your clothed area, he pecked around the area. he pulled your shapewear down, the material pooling around your ankles. he kissed your inner thighs.

he tenderly kissed your soft skin, causing your breath to become shaky, and a flutter of butterflies swarmed in your tummy. moving up to you, he kissed your forehead and then your lips. you kissed back, with your hand gently resting on the back of his head. "are you ready?" he whispered against your lips, still kissing you. "y-yes," you whispered in response. he pulled away, planting a kiss on your cheek, and you giggled. "tap my head if you want me to stop," he said, and you nodded, still giggling. he smiled before he positioned himself infront of your clit, he bit your thigh slightly, teeth gazing against your skin, causing you to moan softly.

his tongue slowly slid against your sensitive bud, his mouth slowly widing sucking against your clit. you moaned loudly, he covered your mouth quickly. a whimper coming out of your mouth, gavi chuckled sending a vibration across your body, you moaned into his hand. he pulled his mouth away, “use my fingers if you think you’re noisy..” he said, you nodded. he kissed your abdomen, lips marking down. he kissed your clit, letting his tongue swirl against the knob.

you arched your back, he rolled his tongue around sucking onto your clit. you moaned softly again, his tongue making its way down in between your opening, he licked around as his tongue nearly entered against your hole. your eyes closing, enjoying the pleasure. you looked down, the sight of gavi bobbing his head up and down.

he continued licking around your folds, picking up every inch of your dewiness. "you taste amazing, so sweet, baby," he hummed against you. you whimpered at his praise, and he looked up, finding you moaning uncontrollably, he held onto your hands softly, fearing you might wake someone up with any noise. you fingers brush against mine, and you treasure the gentle touch as you both hold onto each other.

he continued, this time you felt his tongue everywhere. causing you to moan uncontrollably, you held onto his head. your orgasm coming closer, you breathed heavily. “g-gavi.. i-i think i-i’m about to.. c-cu..m..” you said, he firmly gripped your thigh, pressing both of your thighs against his face, while your ankles dangled off his shoulder blades. “cum mi niña..” he mumbled, your arrival was marked by a gasp, and your back arched as you tightly held onto his head. he continued licking around your folds. tapping on his head, he pulled himself back up. he took his shirt off in front of you, eyes narrowing down to his pants.

he unbuttoned them, now undressed but his boxers. he stood infront of your sat up figure. your eyes narrowing down to his boner, “u-um..” you stuttered, he chuckled. “hm?” he said, caressing your head. your hands touched the waistband of his boxers, they slowly moved down to his boner. “y-you’re.. b-big..” you spoke, “let’s be fair on this..”, “o-on what?” you said looking up at him, he felt his cock twitch. your eyes were glossy and big, he groaned. “i’ll lead you through..” he spoke.

“take this off first..” he gently fidgeted with the strap of your dress as you stood in front of him while he sat on your bed. you pulled the straps of your dress down, letting the apparel get loose and roll down to your ankles, within a few seconds later, his cock was free from the material. your eyes widened, he caressed your waist. “how perfect you are, you’re so beautiful..” he said, you blushed.

your hands reached under the back of your bra, you unclipped it, straps slowly falling off. the material falling off your chest, he sat back looking at your naked self, he stroked himself, precum oozing out as you bit your bottom lip. he groaned, “sit on your knees infront of me baby..” he said, you did what you were told. “spit on the head.” he looked down at you.

“t-the h-head?”

“the tip amor..” he said chuckling, you spat down on the top, “good.. now work your way up, y’know.. stroke your hand against the skin, use both of your hands if you want to as well..” he said, you nodded your head, hand wrapping around his dick, stroking it slowly. the hand gesture causing him to moan, “fuuck.. so good already..” he said, you watched more of the liquid goo out, you looked up at him, with a small nod for you to take him in, you did so. you swaddled your mouth around the head, kitty licking the tip. your hand still pumping him slowly, without hesitation, you bobbled your head further down, taking up as much as you can from the top.

your tongue worked its way around, swirling around the base, he held onto your head, letting his head fall back while a groan slipped out. “so so good..” he moaned, you felt your stomach and breathing hitch, “t-try going faster.. use both hands if you want to..” he groaned, you nodded your head, “mhm..” within seconds later, you began bobbing your head, before your other hand wrapped around the skin. slowly and tightly, you tugged up and down, he closed his eyes gripping onto your hair. “fuuck.. such a good girl..” he moaned, your bottom hand stroking the bottom of his base as the top stroked him quickly.

he groaned uncontrollably, your mouth doing incredible things you or he himself never knew about, you were now on your fours, he stood up limped. leaning down to slap your ass, causing you to whimper and gag around him, his length pushing deeply into your mouth. the two of you looked at each other at the same time, he groaned seeing your face expressions before he pulled himself away from your mouth. you catched your breath, he picked you up placing you on his lap.

you cupped his cheeks, “we’re not done yet r-right?” you spoke, he shook his head. “shh don’t worry.. i’ll take care of you..” he spoke, his lips resting on yours. you kissed back, your hands tangling in his hair. he turned you around, moving you against the pillows. he caressed your waist, your cheeks warm and red. “y-you have a-a.. c-condom.. right?” as you gazed up at him, he let out a chuckle. retrieving his wallet from your nightstand, you couldn't help but giggle as you watched him unwrap the package. gently caressing your forehead with his thumb, he asked, “are you absolutely sure about this?" you nodded in response.

“m-mhm..” you said, hand resting on his shoulder. he rolled the rubber on him before putting the wrapper on your nightstand, “it’s going to hurt for a bit, okay? scratch or bite me all you want..” he said, you giggled. he smiled and tenderly kissed your forehead as you looked up at him. he then positioned himself in front of you before gently entering you. you arched your back crying out, "shh... shh..." he whispered as he gently held your hand, allowing your hands to intertwine and find comfort against the softness of the sheets.

he completely slid in, your thighs shaking already as your other hand rested on his bicep. he groaned and rested his forehead on top of yours, and tears started to fill up your eyes. “you’re so warm..” he whispered, you breathed shakily. “do you want me to stay like this?" he asked, caressing your cheek. you nodded in agreement, but when he kissed you gently, you didn't quite match the rhythm. you kissed back deeply, lost in your thoughts. your hands cupping his cheeks, he slipped his tongue in, your cheeks blushing while your insides were clenching and drenching with your sliminess.

“y-you can.. m-move..” you hitched out, he penetrated into you slowly, you gasped holding onto his biceps. “spread your legs a little more amor..” he said, you nodded your head, doing what he told you to. your legs parting, he slipped out a few seconds, slamming himself in again. you covered your mouth with the back of your hand, moaning softly. he thrusted slowly again, looking down at you. he leaned closer, caging you in between his hands. all of gavis's words of encouragement felt and sounded muffled. you felt full, your brain couldn't comprehend anything.

as he grasped your waist, he asked, “want me to go faster?” you nodded. “yes... please...” you moaned. he thrust at an increasingly fast pace, causing you to feel louder. “too quick?” he asked, you shook your head. “n-not at all, keep going...” you held his shoulder, he leaned closer shifting his hips at a similar pace.

you cupped his cheeks, he groaned going deep. you moaned loudly, he covered your mouth, “shh.. c..ant wake your friends up.” he said, you nodded moaning uncontrollably into his hand. he slipped his fingers into your mouth, you closed your lips around his digit, sucking against it to prevent your noises from going any louder.

you cried out, the feeling of your stomach tightening like a firework nearly about to explode. you gripped onto his arm, he felt you clamping around him. “close again?” he said, you nodded quickly. tears forming, he halfway pulled out, spitting down onto your clit, he rubbed onto your sensitive pearl. you moaned louder, your other hand gripping onto the sheets nearly about to cum.

“i-i’m going to..” you gasped loudly, and with a moan your orgasm came crashing down, he nearly slipped out, holding onto your waist. you laid on your bed, breathing heavily. he giggled, resting his forehead on yours. “a-are we d-done..” you whispered, he shook his head. your eyes slightly widening, “there’s a few more to go mi niña..” you giggled, arms pulling him closer to you a few inches away from your lips, kissing him. he smiled against your lips, one hand coming up to cup his cheek.

little did you both know the kiss went from a cute moment to another heated minute.

his lips traveled down south to your neck, you leaned your head back, holding onto his head. his lips kissing and leaving love bites and even marks, he began to paint your neck as if you were his own canvas. he groaned when your fingers touched down to his abs and to his pelvis. you whimpered once his free hand gropped your breast. he pulled away chuckling, “how pretty..”

he grabbed one of your pillows, you looked at him confused, “okay lift your back off the bed..” he said, you did what you were told. he ruffled it, placing it under your back. "what are you doing.." you whispered. he gently lifted both of your legs, placing them on each of his shoulders. as you looked up at him, he reassured you, "trust me on this, you won't regret it at all." you furrowed your brows in uncertainty before nodding your head in agreement.

he placed a small kiss on your temple, he pushed himself in. you looked at him, he kissed you deeply. your lips responding back, he slowly thrusted into you. you felt him everywhere in your walls at the deepest angles, he thrusted at a rapid speed out of the blue causing you to moan loudly. he smirked, “g-gavi!” you cried out between your pleasured noises. he looked down at you, before thrusting deeper. you were on the verge of screaming when he discovered that spot. you gripped onto the sheets, moaning loudly.

your noises increasing everytime he thrusted at a tremendous speed. you struggled to keep your eyes open, they slightly rolled back at the delicious pace. “doing so good mi niña..” he leaned down to you, kissing your forehead, being pushed deeper he thrusted crazily into your g-spot. your calves now on his shoulders, “o-oh my g-gosh!” you cried out, gripping onto the sheets. he wrapped his arm under your lower back, throwing the pillow across your bed.

picking you up, he thrusted harshly and sloppily into you, you gripped onto his biceps, screaming already in pleasure. “f-feels good, huh?” he groaned loudly, breathing heavily in between his words. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, he gripped onto your ass tightly and harsh. for sure leaving a mark, you cried out. “y-yes! s-so g-good!” you teared up. he felt closer everytime you would clench and nearly fell, “holy shit i’m about t-¡joder!” he came inside the condom, you cupped his cheek, caressing the back of his neck.

he softly smiled, you giggled breathlessly. your legs coming down, wrapping around his waist. “surprised at your flexibility..” he said, you giggled. “that’s a secret mister..” you spoke giggling. “hmmm..one more round?” he spoke, you looked at him biting your lip while smiling cheekily, head nodding yes. he held onto your back, walking to the bed. he laid on the bed, sitting up. you slowly got off him, sitting on your knees infront of him.

before even sliding yourself in, you slowly pulled the condom off him carefully, tieing a knot. “wait y/n!” you got up quickly tossing it in your trash-can, “what are you doing..” he said, you crawled on to your bed, giggling your hand wrapped around his member. “wanting to feel you even better..” you spoke, “a-are you even sure about this?” he stuttered in shock, hearing those unexpected words from you. your head nodded, “mhm.. i’ll just go to the store later and get plan b pills..” you said, your hand moving away.

you climbed on his lap, leaning yourself closer. sinking down, your back arching slightly shivering. he groaned feeling you tighten, you immediately burried your face onto his neck blushing. he chuckled, “want me to help you out on this?” he said, “mhm..” you muffled out, he caressed your shoulder. “rock your hips back and forth..don’t bounce yet.” he said, you nodded your head as you started to grind slowly against him. he groaned, “just exactly like that..” he said, you wrapped your arms around him levering yourself up, he smiled.

you rested your forehead on his, blinking tiredly. you kissed him, his lips responding back to the kiss as the two of you made out passionately, while you were perfectly busy stuffing yourself in for more. both of your lips glued on each other, breathlessly panting not wanting to let go, love.. you thought.

you cupped his cheeks, your chest sweaty and sticking against his. gavi held your waist guiding you through, slipping his tongue yet again into your mouth, were you and him happened to tongue fight. you whimpered in his mouth, he pulled away from your lips. “fuck, you’re doing so amazing.. try going a bit faster now..” he said, you nodded your head. your hips began to move on themselves quickly, causing you to moan increasingly. he groaned loudly, squeezing your ass. you gripped onto his shoulder, attempting to move quicker than you were.

“fuck!” you cried out, he held onto your breast, kneading with it. “i-i feel t-tingly..!” you said, starting to bounce on him. he groaned loudly, slapping your ass. tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. he laid his back against the pillows, you leaned closer holding onto the bassinet. you were so fucked and enjoying every single little thing, his stomach slowly tightening feeling himself close yet again. lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently onto your nipple. your hands fidgeting anywhere on his skin.

“i-i cant a-anymore!” you said, your vision going white. a scream leaving your throat. your movement’s stopped, gavi came inside you, walls clamping down. “you squirted everywhere for your first time..” he laughed breathlessly, you fell on his chest, nearly about to pass out from exhaustion.

he stood up, you looked at him, “y-you’re leaving?” he spoke, he shook his head. “where are your blankets?” he spoke, you pointed at the closet. he opened the closet, placing the blanket in your basket for your unwashed clothes. he found another blanket, attempting to stand up, you limped. he fixed your bed, he turned around, looking down at you.

“hm?” he said, you shook your head. “can’t really walk..” you mumbled, he chuckled. “come, sit on the bed.” you limped, holding onto the bed before sitting down. he found his boxers, placing them back on. you laid on the bed, eyes nearly closing. “hey.. sit up..” he said, you sat up. “alright, hands up..” he spoke, you raised your hands up, placing the shirt above you. he fixed it, you crawled to your bed. laying back down, falling asleep. gavi chuckled, turning your lights off as he walked over to the other side, laying down.

he pulled you closer to him, your head snuggling onto his chest. sleeping deeply.

the sun shined through the white curtains, deep asleep. gavi was already up, looking at your sleeping state. you breathed shakily, gavi pulling you closer. you woke up, “hey..” he whispered, you smiled lazily. “hi..” you mumbled, “you’re still here?” you whispered, he nodded. “i didn’t want to leave you at all.. you’re too sweet y/n..” he spoke, you nodded your head, fighting back the sleep. “have my roomates woke up?” you said, he nodded. “yeah, we haven’t been caught yet..” he spoke, you giggled. he kissed your lips, you kissed back, your thigh rested on his hipbone. fingers gazing across your skin, causing you to giggle. he bit your bottom lip, a small whimper slipping out, “be my girlfriend..” he whispered.

you looked up at him, “really?..” you said quietly, he nodded his head, you saw the pink flush spreading through his cheeks. “yes, i want to be your girlfriend..” you said, he kissed you again. you kissed back, your hand resting on his chest. lost in the kiss, you levitated yourself onto his lap. he held onto your waist, still kissing you. you pulled away, giggling, “i still need my pills by the way.”

#pablo gavi fanfic #gavi smut #gavi fanfic #gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi x reader

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exorcxqsm · 2 months ago

Text

Only a fool would bargain with the leader of Onychinus

Word Count: 5,8k

tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, first time sex (not virginity loss) alterations to the main story, dr/y humping, thigh riding, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, dirty talking, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, baby), violence, mentions of injuries.

Notes:Some of you may have already read my fic, The Price of Desire, in which the reader’s evol is mentioned. If you have, you’ll notice that the evol is the same in this story; however, there is no connection between the two. The concept of a reader with this ability was too appealing for me to resist, and since it was briefly mentioned in the previous fic, I decided to explore it further in this one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! All likes and reblogs are appreciated. :3

Going on missions for Sylus was nothing new to you by now. You had spent years by his side since he first found you, a wild creature desperate for survival. Sometimes, you could still recall how close you had come to killing each other back then. You had been hunted by nearly every illegal underground group, all seeking your evol, and while on the run, you stumbled upon him like a scared and feral animal.

You had instinctively tried to attack him on sight; it was all you knew how to do, having fought for your freedom for as long as you could remember. You were no stranger to the danger he represented—the bloodthirsty leader of Onychinus. If other groups sought you as a mere experiment for your power, you could only imagine what Onychinus would do if they got their hands on you.

The moment you realized the person you had fallen headfirst into was the white-haired menace himself, you had attempted to fight him with everything you had. Sylus, of course, dodged every single one of your attacks effortlessly, but he was merely toying with you, for he possessed something you were unaware of; he could not be killed.

You had always been feared for your lethal evol—one touch from your bare fingers could send someone halfway to the other world. You were an extraordinary weapon, yet Sylus was not deterred; he was intrigued, even enamored by you.

With his energy manipulation, it was impossible for you to harm him, particularly when he thrived on high levels of adrenaline and excitement.

So, even as you forced yourself to keep trying to touch him, desperate to end the chaos, he reveled in your fierce determination. He loved witnessing the fire in your eyes as you believed you could take him down. When he finally grew tired of your little game and decided to put an end to it, he was blindsided by a fact he had overlooked.

While he had learned nearly everything there was to know about your evol and your abilities, he did not realize one important thing; you were immune to his mist.

No matter how fiercely the red and black tendrils curled around you, the moment your flesh made contact with them, they vanished into thin air.

Sylus had nearly salivated when he realized the challenge you presented. It had been far too long since he had encountered someone so intriguing, and he was determined that you wouldn’t walk out of that valley without becoming his.

That’s how you found yourself in his group now. Unlike everyone else, Sylus had made a promise that night: if you went home with him willingly, he would never force you to use your abilities for his research or personal gain. He needed you to choose to be there if you were going to help him.

His condition was simple: think of aiding him, and in return, you would gain his protection, a life free from fear and the constant need to run for your freedom.

You had taken a significant risk when you decided to go with him, but the white-haired man kept his word. It took you months to contemplate helping him instead of merely enjoying the luxury of his lifestyle, but he was patient. In time, you became not only his most valuable asset but also his right hand. Whenever he was out of town for deals or missions, you handled matters back home on his behalf.

Deep down, back then you knew he wasn’t just a kind-hearted man simply looking to help a struggling girl off the street. What he truly sought to protect was your evol because he believed you would eventually come around to assist him when he needed it most. So when you finally did, it was no surprise to him. He had merely given you a subtle nod and handed you the first files.

Now, two years later, you stood beside him at one of the many auctions taking place in the N109 Zone. He was after a particularly important and valuable protocore—one he had pursued for years—and today presented his chance to possess it.

Being next to him not only amplified his chances of leaving unscathed without extensive negotiation—after all, who was crazy enough to challenge the leader of Onychinus and his lethal right-hand woman?—but it also made it easier for him to operate, as you inevitably drew attention and distraction from other bidders.

His hand curled possessively around your waist as he proudly showcased you to the crowd. The dress you wore was as red as his eyes, hugging your every curve and accentuating your figure. Your hair was styled in a simple updo, revealing your back to the admiring gazes around you.

The less fabric you wore, the more difficult it was for his mist to approach you, and that was one thing you clung to. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—he had come to not only depend on you but to trust you as well. Still, you maintained a small resistance, a defiance that you weren’t ready to surrender, no matter how much it irritated him.

Your gloves were snugly in place, allowing you to interact with him without draining his energy, thus enabling you to warn others of the imminent danger your touch posed. One slip of fabric, and whoever you touched would be lost forever.

“Mr. Sylus, I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” a distant voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing both of your attention. A young man addressed your boss, his tone a mix of surprise and formality.

“Not happy to see me?” Sylus replied, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as honey, the smugness evident in his expression as he arched a white brow at the man.

“Of course, sir! I’m sorry, sir. I just thought you’d be out of town—”

“Change of plans." Sylus muttered, cutting him off with a tight smile before guiding you forward, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back.

As you walked toward the room where his meeting would take place, you tilted your face up to catch a glimpse of his profile. “He’s right, you know,” you began, curiosity lacing your words. “Weren’t you supposed to return next Tuesday?”

Sylus’s smirk deepened at your question. “If I had known you’d be so disappointed by my early arrival, sweetie, I would have made sure to come back yesterday.”

You scoffed at his remark, subtly flexing your back to shake his arm off, but his grip only tightened, keeping you glued to his side. “Be good now. You know how important tonight is,” He leaned in closer, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it tickled your ear. “Don’t screw this up.”

You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that crawled up your spine from the subtle threat lacing his tone. Sylus had been under immense pressure lately, but you refused to let him take it out on you.

“Sylus.”

He let out an impatient huff as you halted him just outside the door of your final destination, but he turned his body to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and intensity.

“I’m not your enemy,” you asserted, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. “Many people work for you, but aside from Luke and Kieran, no one stands by your side with the same loyalty I do. I know you’ve been struggling, but I’m the last person you want against you right now.”

“Oh, is that right, kitten?” His brows furrowed, drawing closer until your chests nearly touched. To an outsider, you might have appeared to be lovers, but the tension between you was palpable and lethal. “And why is that? Because you’re oh-so-dangerous?”

His provoking smirk ignited your anger, and while you couldn’t fathom what was going through his mind, you chose to avoid making a scene. Stepping away from him, you tried to regain your composure. “They’re waiting for us.”

Before you could take another step toward the door, you were abruptly lifted off the ground, hanging upside down over Sylus’s shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered-yelled, frantically scanning for prying eyes. Your surprise deepened when, from the shadows, Luke and Kieran rushed toward you, effortlessly pulling you from Sylus’s grip. “What—”

“Take her to the car and wait for me,” Sylus commanded sharply, his tone clipped and leaving no room for negotiation. As you were carried away from him and the room, you felt a pang of frustration.

“Let me down!” you practically shouted as the twins put distance between you and the auction building.

“Sorry, ma’am, no can do.”

“Yeah, ma’am, we’re sorry, but no one bypasses the boss's orders!”

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as the events unfolded, anger and frustration boiling within you at how Sylus had treated you. It was the first time since you started working for him that he had dismissed you so callously, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of hurt that coiled deep in your stomach.

You sat in the backseat of the car while the twins chatted and bantered in the front, oblivious to your turmoil. It felt surreal, as if they were living in a different world. Maybe you were overthinking it—after all, you hadn’t expected him to disregard you like that, especially during an auction so crucial to him. You were valuable to him, weren’t you? He needed you by his side, didn’t he?

Your thoughts spiraled until they were abruptly shattered by a loud bang. Before you could process the sound, part of the building in front of you exploded in a fiery eruption. Wait—was that the floor where the auction was being held? The very floor Sylus was on?

Without a second thought, you threw open the car door, sprinting toward the burning building despite the twins’ frantic shouts urging you to stop. Your mind was consumed by one thought: Sylus. He couldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t die. Foolish girl, not even his evol could save him from an explosion of that magnitude.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat clung to your skin as you pushed your limits, charging up the stairs to the floor where you had been just forty minutes earlier. You stumbled multiple times, falling to your knees, but the thought of Sylus pushed you onward.

When you finally reached the floor, it was a scene of devastation. The area lay in ruins, engulfed in smoke and chaos, with scattered survivors struggling to breathe amidst the wreckage. You focused your eyes and ears, straining to find Sylus amidst the agonizing cries of others. Time blurred as you searched, exhaustion creeping in and threatening to overwhelm you.

Just when you thought you might pass out, you spotted it—silver locks, now dirty and disheveled, just a few feet away. Panic surged through you as you fell to your knees and crawled with the last remnants of strength you had left. When you finally reached him, your heart stopped. You had never seen Sylus so vulnerable, so exposed.

You reached out to touch his face, your irritation intensifying at the realization that you still had to keep your gloves on, unable to feel his soft, dirt-streaked skin. With the last remnants of your strength, you shook him gently, your voice coming out hoarse as you tried to call his name.

Slowly, his eyes peeled open, and you let out the breath you had been holding. Unfortunately, you had inhaled too much smoke, resulting in a violent cough that wracked your body.

Clutching your chest, you hunched over, trying to cough out the smoke while moving away from him. Just then, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you down to him. You attempted to focus on his face, searching for any injuries, but your eyes were tearing up, and your vision was blurred from the smoke-filled atmosphere.

Just as you thought you might lose consciousness, his voice broke through, shaky and hoarse but still as sharp as a knife. “What are you doing in here, kitten?” His eyes were half-lidded, and he groaned as he struggled to sit up. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me outside?”

You tried to help him rise, but his heavy body only dragged you down, sending you sprawling onto the floor. As he noticed your condition, his eyes sharpened with concern, and his features turned serious. He began removing his coat, which was now dirty and full of holes.

“Sylus—you need to get out of here,” you urged, trying to push him away as he attempted to cover you completely with his coat.

“Don’t talk right now, sweetie.” His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as he made sure no part of your upper body was exposed. Your hands were now firmly pinned to your torso beneath his coat. “And don’t fight me.”

His fingers came to your face, squeezing gently until your lips formed a pout and your attention was solely on him. “Stubborn little kitten,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and affection.

Just before you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt the tendrils of his red-black mist enveloping you, pushing through your evol’s resistance and carrying you away from the chaos.

When you finally opened your eyes, it took a moment for your surroundings to come into focus. The unmistakable scent of Sylus’s mattress enveloped you, grounding you in reality. You were back at the mansion.

Your limbs felt heavy, and a dull ache throbbed in your head. Every part of your body screamed for you to stay in bed, to drift back into sleep and forget everything that had happened before you lost consciousness. But your mind was fixated on one thing: Sylus.

With a groan, you attempted to sit up, quickly glancing over your body. To your relief, you realized you were freshly cleaned and dressed in one of your nightgowns, with no significant injuries aside from a few scratches on your skin.

You took a moment to steady yourself, ensuring your vision wouldn’t fade to black before you attempted to walk across the room toward the door. Sylus’s office was just down the hallway, and as you stepped outside, you could faintly hear Luke and Kieran’s voices drifting from inside. You paused, heart pounding, and when you heard Sylus’s gruff tone, a wave of relief washed over you. He was okay.

After a brief moment, you knocked once before turning the doorknob and peeking through the small opening. Sylus’s gaze met yours immediately, and the twins turned to regard you with their rare smiles. It wasn’t often they dropped their masks, even in the mansion, but now their boyish features shone through. Their red hair was pulled back into matching messy ponytails, and a hint of blush colored their cheeks as they took in your appearance in the gown.

Sylus coughed discreetly, and the twins exchanged glances before standing up to give you two some privacy.

As they made their way to the door, Kieran paused to ruffle your hair playfully, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You gave us a scare there, little crow.”

You regarded both twins with a small, apologetic smile before turning your full attention to the white-haired man seated behind his desk. He still wore his torn shirt, which left his muscular frame fully exposed. With a languid movement, he rolled his chair away from the desk and beckoned you with a finger.

Taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you as his intense gaze roamed over your form. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, you approached and stood before him, his legs slightly apart, causing your knees to brush against the inside of his thighs as he looked up at you.

Your eyes fell to his toned chest, now marred with scratches and bruises—evidence the damage inflicted, perhaps a sign that he was running low on evol energy and unable to heal completely.

“Are you okay?” Your voice emerged as a barely audible whisper, still tinged with hoarseness. You clasped your hands behind your back, fidgeting awkwardly.

You weren’t quite sure what had come over you; you had never before found yourself in a situation where you needed to actively express your concern for Sylus until tonight, and you hoped he wouldn’t recall too much of what had transpired in that building.

“Worried, kitten?” he asked, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips as his gaze swept over your body. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch you, yet he seemed equally torn, grappling with the worry that had gripped him when you had passed out in his arms.

You sniffled softly, your eyes darting anywhere but to him, your body tense and rigid as if your bones were locking into place. Instead of answering his question, you opted to redirect the conversation. “Do we know what caused the explosion?”

His expression was unreadable, and you noticed his jaw tick slightly as he processed your words. After a moment, he exhaled slowly, raising his hand to brush his knuckles gently across your arm. A shiver coursed through you at the contact, and you could see the corners of his lips curl slightly at your reaction. This time, he didn’t bother to hide himself from you.

“I did.”

“What?” Your voice came out louder than intended, earning a deep, rumbling chuckle from Sylus. He relaxed further into his chair, locking his carmine eyes onto yours with an intensity that sent your heart racing.

“What are you talking about, Sylus? When I came in there…” It was becoming increasingly difficult to mask the emotion in your voice. “When I came in, you had fainted. What would have happened to you if I hadn’t found you in time?”

Amusement danced freely in his eyes at your small outburst. You truly were exquisite in your concern. “You underestimate me too much, sweetie.”

“You’re the one underestimating your enemies, Sylus!” You raised your voice, your hands gesturing in disbelief. “Just because you’re the leader of Onychinus doesn’t mean they can’t get to you if you’re unconscious.”

“Burnt men can’t walk, kitten.”

A small gasp escaped your lips at the speed and bluntness of his response. His smugness only fueled your anger at his reckless behavior. Leaning down, you gripped the arms of his chair, effectively caging him in. You were about to respond when you suddenly realized the position you had put yourself in. It gave him a full view of your breasts, the fabric of your nightgown flowing away from your skin and leaving little to the imagination.

Your ears and cheeks burned a deep crimson as you tried to pull away just as quickly as you'd leaned down. However, Sylus’s arm had already wrapped around your waist, anchoring you in place and pulling you impossibly closer. Your breath hitched when you noticed the way his pupils had dilated, his lips parting slightly as he fixated on your slowly hardening nipples.

“Sylus…” Your voice was barely a whisper now, heat pooling in your core under his intense gaze.

Finally, Sylus’s eyes met yours, and he began to stroke your back slowly, his tone low as if he feared shattering the delicate bubble that enveloped you both. “The explosion; It was my plan all along. Why else would I want you out and away from the building, sweetie?”

A frown crossed your face at his admission. Despite your initial shock, your body grew more compliant under his gentle strokes as he pulled you in, guiding you to straddle his thigh. His red irises darkened just a bit when your pulsing core made contact with his jeans and you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he could probably feel just how wet you were.

Yet, he continued speaking, his voice smooth and steady. “Tonight had no other way of going. It was necessary and inevitable.”

“But why?” Your eyes had softened since you’d first entered his room, and you found yourself relaxing more beneath his touch as he explained the events of the night.

“Because, kitten, tonight’s transaction was off the table the moment it was proposed by the other side, a few days back when I was still away."

By now, confusion began to cloud your understanding of Sylus’s motives. “But…” Your gaze drifted to his desk, where numerous files lay scattered. “Is this why you came back earlier? Tonight’s transaction was for that protocore you needed, Sylus. I thought nothing could screw this up for you. Weren’t you after it for years?”

Sylus let out a small scoff, his lips pressing into a thin line as he studied your face intently. “You never asked me what the price of that protocore was, kitten.”

Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him again, instinctively leaning closer. Your breasts brushed against his chest, heightening the tension between you as if his answer were a secret he needed to share. “And what was the price?”

“You.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and a dark cloud crossed his features as he spoke. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, causing you to squirm on his thigh, which elicited a low grunt from him.

Your emotions were a chaotic mess, thoughts swirling together and leaving you breathless as you tried to process what he was implying. “So what you’re saying is…”

“The deal was off the table the moment they thought you were for sale.” Sylus’s leg bounced suddenly, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped your lips. Your hands instinctively flew out to clutch the fabric of his open shirt for stability. “I came back because I had to send a message.”

His voice dripped with malice as he continued to move his leg, sending shockwaves of sensation through your core as it ground against his thigh.

The pleasure mixed with confusion made you feel light-headed; even if you wanted to resist, your body had already betrayed you. There was no stopping your hips from chasing the friction, no way to quell the whimpers that escaped your lips. Sylus’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of your nightgown at the sound.

As you continued to grind against him, he spoke with a dark intensity. “They had to know, kitten; Nobody lives to say they tried to bargain with what belongs to me.”

“I—I don’t belong to you,” you breathed out, unsure whether you were trying to lie to him or to yourself.

“Is this why you’re drenching my thigh, sweetie?” As if to emphasize his point, he bounced his knee again, causing it to press against your sensitive nerves with a force that made you moan involuntarily, your head falling to rest on his shoulder.

“You poor thing,” he cooed in your ear, his hand sliding to your lower back, urging you to grind down against him.

“Tonight—you put yourself in danger, Sylus.” You struggled to form coherent thoughts as you chased your orgasm on his thigh, your mind slowly turning to mush. “That was so stupid, even for you.” You finished your sentence with a moan, and Sylus groaned, instinctively moving his hips upward, his own hard-on seeking friction.

“Were you worried about me, kitten?” He dipped his head to your neck, his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses as he awaited your response, which never came. Sensing your hesitation to voice your concern, his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingertip pressing onto your throbbing clit, making you cry out. “Answer me.”

“I—yes. Yes, I was s'worried.” Your head fell back in bliss, granting him access to suck and nibble on your throat as your hips moved faster and harder. The tight coil in your belly was only a few movements away from bursting. “I thought I’d—”

“Go on.” Sylus urged, his fingers dancing over your clit as he bounced his knee in sync with your movements, relishing the way you were making a mess on him, your whole body heating under his touch.

“I thought I’d lost you.” The words escaped your lips just as your orgasm washed over you, making your vision go black and your entire body shake with its intensity. Sylus’s arms wrapped around you, caging you against his chest as he let you ride it out, offering the small comfort you sought after your confession.

When you finally came down from your high, you were breathless, panting, and a few tears had escaped your eyes. But he was there, holding you gently and running his fingers through your hair. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, sweetie.”

You pushed your head off his chest, your eyes meeting his soft red ones. Without thinking clearly, you reached out to cradle his face. The moment your fingertips made contact with his skin, his whole body visibly flinched, and just like his heartbeat, it felt like time had stopped.

Horrified and regretful, you realized you had let your emotions get the best of you and forgotten about your evol. You stood up from his lap, pressing your hands tightly against your chest, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Just a few seconds. Just a few seconds, and he’ll wake up, like he always does, right? Doubts gnawed at you; he was so weak after tonight, but his evol would heal him. It had to.

Just when you were about to scream for help, Sylus’s chest began to rise and fall again. His eyes fluttered open, and relief flooded your entire being. Your shoulders slumped, and your body shook, even though he was alright. How could you have been so careless?

“Sweetie.” His voice was soft as he stood from his chair, towering over you. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head up hesitantly, your regrets gnawing at you for what you had just done. You tried to open your mouth to apologize, but no words came out; instead, his lips found yours, silencing any sound you might have made. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling gently to angle your head to the side and deepen the kiss until you thought you might faint from lack of breath.

This time, you made sure to keep your hands glued to your sides, not daring to touch him again. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting. He rested his forehead against yours and moved his hand to the back pocket of his pants, retrieving something.

You tilted your head to watch him unfold two pieces of leather gloves. He carefully took your wrist, drawing it toward him before placing the glove on your hand, then moved to the other to do the same. It was a temporary solution, one that frustrated you to no end, but you wouldn’t jeopardize his life just for a touch of his soft skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your thoughts crashing over you like a tsunami of negativity at the prospect of harming him. Your frustration only fueled your desperation, and you found yourself clawing at the remnants of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. “I need you, please, Sylus, ’m so sorry.”

Sylus groaned as he felt you tugging him nearer, his own hands finding refuge on your body, touching and caressing anywhere he could reach. “Are you sure, kitten? Once we start, I don’t know if I can hold back.” His voice was low and controlled, while your legs trembled with desire and need.

“Then don’t hold back. Give me everything you have. I can take it, Sylus.” You pressed kisses all over his exposed chest, making him gasp and thin his patience. In one swift motion, you found yourself lifted off the floor, your body cradled in one of his arms as he carried you toward his desk.

“You really know how to bring a man to his knees, sweetie.” He placed you gently on top of the desk, taking his position between your legs. Your lips connected again as his hands deftly worked to rid you of your clothes.

Once you were bare before him, he stepped back, his gaze roaming over your body like a starving man taking in a feast. “Breathtaking.”

He fell to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders with a force that sent you backward, your elbows bracing against the desk for balance. He was too impatient to tease; he dived right in, his tongue lapping at your folds with urgent fervor.

Your back arched immediately, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as he worked his mouth on your cunt, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your legs tightened around his head, the pleasure overwhelming, which only made him groan and feast on you harder.

His tongue plunged into your tight hole, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You thought you could hold on a little longer, but when his large hand spread across your tummy, pressing down, you exploded in his mouth. Your vision went white as you drenched him, your thighs shaking violently around his head.

The realization of what you had done hit you when he pulled away, his chin and exposed chest glistening with droplets of your release. You shot your gloved hand to cover your mouth, your legs instinctively closing in embarrassment.

Yet, he looked even more exhilarated, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them, his lips finding yours once more. “You’re going to do this again. And this time, you’re going to do it on my cock.”

He pushed you back, a firm hand on your chest as you lay spread out on top of his desk. Your eyes focused on his hands as they deftly undid his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs. The moment you saw his girthy cock—veiny and the tip angry and red for you—your mouth went dry.

You craved to satisfy him as he had satisfied you, but when you tried to sit up, his hand pressed you back down against the desk.

“Not tonight, sweetie. Right now, I just need to be inside you.”

Even though he spoke, he made no move to get on you, waiting for your consent first. You nodded, your eyes clouded with lust.

“Use your words, kitten. I need to hear you.” He was pumping his cock with his hand, his fingers barely wrapping around it. Standing before you in all his naked glory, he resembled a Greek statue, and your chest tightened at how wickedly beautiful he looked.

“Yes. Please, Sy, need you inside me.” Your voice came out breathless, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He wrapped an arm around your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the desk and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to spread you open exactly as he desired.

He pushed the tip in at first, making you clench around him instinctively, as if trying to suck him deeper. An unsteady breath escaped him, and his body stuttered momentarily. You were killing him in the sweetest way. “So goddamn tight.”

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he pushed further inside you, his grip on your thigh tightening the moment he was fully buried in you, his pelvis pressing against yours. You could feel him all the way up into your stomach, and your legs began to shake, even though he remained still.

His breathing had turned erratic, and the moment your hips squirmed forward, his other hand came down to keep you in place. “Shit, baby, don’t move. Give me a moment.”

You were a whimpering mess, sweat beading on your forehead from the anticipation. But the instant he started moving, your whole body unlocked, turning to pudding under his thrusts. He began with a slow, deliberate pace, his lips parting as small grunts escaped him, each thrust igniting the fire building within you.

The more you clenched down on his cock, the faster he moved, until the desk scraped against the marble floor. “Fuck, kitten. You’re squeezing me so tightly.” His voice was thick with lust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin only intensified the fire burning deep in your core. “Do you love my cock that much?”

Your mind had turned to mush, thoughts consumed by how he stretched you and filled you to the brim. You nodded uncontrollably, crying out every time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Yes! I love it so much, Sy.”

“Good girl.” Sylus’s thrusts quickened as he heard your pretty sounds, the way your walls sucked him in making his thighs tremble slightly as he felt his release drawing near. “Such a good girl, so cock-hungry for me.”

“Ah— fuck.” Stars began to form behind your eyelids, your whole body rocking on the desk. If it weren’t for Sylus’s hands gripping your thighs, you would have slid right off and ended up on the floor from his relentless force. The desk shook violently from his pounding, and you were certain the whole house could hear you.

Sylus’s hand reached for your face, his thumb brushing against your lower lip before slipping past it to press down on your tongue, making you clench around his cock instinctively. “That’s it, sweetie,” he breathed, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in pleasure as your cunt hugged him tightly. “Give it to me; I can feel how close you are.”

You were indeed on the brink, your whole body burning and trembling under Sylus’s powerful thrusts. But what sent you over the edge was a sudden knock on the door, followed by Luke’s voice calling out to see if everything was alright.

The moment you realized you had been caught, and Luke could turn the doorknob at any second to find you spread for Sylus, his cock pressing against your cervix, you exploded. Your loud moans were partly muffled by the white-haired man's finger in your mouth. The pressure you applied around his cock as you climaxed made Sylus falter, his own orgasm crashing over him with a force he hadn’t anticipated.

His hot seed coated your walls, filling you to the brim and spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he continued to thrust, ensuring every last drop found its way inside. You were a crying, spent mess on his desk, while he tried to catch his breath, slowly lowering your leg back down from his shoulder.

Luke was long gone from outside the door, having heard enough to realize what was happening between you and Sylus.

You could only look up at him with a small shared chuckle before he leaned down to kiss your lips, his newfound gentleness contrasting sharply with the intensity of the moment. “I believe they received a lesson about eavesdropping now,” he murmured, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

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amirasainz · 3 months ago

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Request: Hey!! I just saw the Video of Carlos and his father driving hot laps together. Could you maybe write one where Carlos is doing it with his girlfriend, but she is the one driving. But he is like super terrified, cause his gf is the definition of passenger princess. Thank you

Of course! Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

Hot Laps

It was a radiant day on the Austin track. The sun was beaming, and not a cloud marred the sky. It was the perfect day for some exhilarating hot laps in a Ferrari, in your opinion. The air was filled with the scent of rubber and gasoline, a symphony of engines roaring in the background, setting the stage for an unforgettable experience.

When the Ferrari media team first approached you and Carlos with the idea of doing some hot laps together during the next race weekend, you were apprehensive. Not that you didn’t trust Carlos with your life. But driving leisurely through the picturesque countryside of Spain and racing at 200 km/h on a track were vastly different experiences. After much persuasion with promises of “Mi amore, I swear I won’t go too fast” and “I promise, I’ll buy you the new Valentino bag when we’re back in Monaco,” he finally convinced you.

However, the moment you both confirmed that you would be doing the hot laps together, Silvia altered the entire plan. “Sorry Carlos, we just think that the fans would enjoy seeing YN drive this time.” And boy, did you love that idea. Now, Carlos was the one hesitating.

You obviously had a driver’s license and your own car, but that didn’t mean you were an exceptional driver. Throughout your relationship, you had proven more than once that you were destined to be the Passenger Princess, rather than the driver. For instance, there was the time when you managed to knock down a road sign. While Carlos sat with a shocked expression next to you, clutching the door handle for dear life, you simply said: “Oopsie daisy,” smiled at him, and continued driving. Or the time when you attempted to parallel park, but after 30 minutes of trying, you had to call him for help.

So one could understand why Carlos was reluctant to let you drive. Now it was your turn to convince Carlos with “I promise I won’t go too fast” and “It will be so much fun, I promise.” What finally swayed him was the promise of “the best sex ever. Throughout the. Whole. Night.”

When the day finally arrived, you were more than ecstatic. The anticipation had been building up, and you could hardly contain your excitement. After the team let you on the track and you were securely strapped into the car (yes, Carlos checked the seatbelt several times), you were finally ready to go. The Ferrari’s interior was a blend of luxury and raw power, the leather seats hugging you tightly as you gripped the steering wheel. The dashboard was a marvel of modern technology, with a digital display that showed every detail of the car’s performance.

You started off slowly, which relaxed Carlos. However, on turn 7, you floored the throttle. “Ay! No, no, no, mi amore. Too quick, too quick!” Carlos screamed. While he tried to grab anything within reach, you were having the time of your life. You drifted and cruised on the track, the tires screeching as you took each turn with increasing confidence. Carlos’s screams of “The wall! The wall!” and “BRAKE!” didn’t deter you from your little joyride.

As you navigated the track, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline. The wind whipped through your hair, and the roar of the engine was music to your ears. You glanced over at Carlos, who was gripping the sides of his seat, his knuckles white. His eyes were wide with a mix of fear and amazement, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. The track’s twists and turns became a thrilling dance, each corner a new challenge that you eagerly embraced.

When you went for the last lap, you went too wide in turn one. Before you could hit the wall, Carlos grabbed the steering wheel, putting the car back on track. While you giggled like a schoolgirl seeing her crush, Carlos muttered: “Querido Dios, por favor dame fuerza y déjanos vivir otro día.”

Finally, the lap was over, and you brought the car to a stop. Carlos immediately undid his seatbelt before jumping out of the car. He lay flat on the track, taking huge breaths of air. You rounded the car, seeing your boyfriend lying on the asphalt. The rest of the team, who had been watching the whole ordeal, were laughing in the background.

“Carlos, why are you lying on the floor?” you asked with a smile, kneeling down next to him. Carlos took your hand before answering seriously: “Mi vida, I love you with my whole heart. But please, never ever drive a car again. You’re the perfect passenger princess, okay.” His request made you laugh so hard that tears escaped your eyes. Perhaps he was right. You ARE the perfect passenger princess.

As you both walked back to the team, Carlos still a bit shaky, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You had faced your fears and had an unforgettable experience. The team congratulated you, and even Carlos managed a smile, albeit a nervous one. You knew this would be a story you’d both laugh about for years to come.

Later that evening, as you both relaxed in the hotel room, Carlos recounted the day’s events with dramatic flair, making you laugh all over again. The memory of the hot laps became a cherished moment, a testament to your adventurous spirit and the bond you shared. You realized that while you might be the perfect passenger princess, you also had the courage to step out of your comfort zone and create unforgettable memories.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #hot laps #f1 x female reader #ferrari #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x female reader #xoxo babygirl 💋

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justauthoring · 4 months ago

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jerk [3].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate. requested -> me begging for another soulmate fic with bakugou 😔😔🤲🏻 requested by -> anonymous

a/n: something a little happy and fluffy for the episode today :) truthfully, i don't even know what this is...

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one. part two.

You liked to think you were good at picking up certain signs.

Bakugou, however, clearly thought the opposite.

U.A. was doing an interactive training program with other schools. This was necessarily anything new, you’ve done them plenty of times now; but what was new was this time you had a soulmate.

Or, rather, you were with your soulmate.

That in of itself was anything new. Lots of people had soulmates and although it was rarer to find yours when you were quite young, as young as you and Bakugou were, it wasn’t unheard of. As you watch the multiple of young heroes in training, just like you, run around, you pick up on the certain singles of bonded pairs.

Two girls walking hand in hand, with beaming smiles on their faces and cheeks rosy from the simple intimacy of their actions. You see a boy pressing a chaste kiss to a girl’s cheek in a corner a few feet away from you, the girl responding with a laugh and half-hearted attempt to bat away the boys wandering lips. Two boys training together on one of the allotted stages, which to any normal gaze looks like nothing special, but you pick up on the way their hearts race and their eyes dance across each other's figures in a burst of excitement because of your quirk.

So, no, you weren’t the only one and certainly not when it came to the world. Of course not.

It was still weird though. At least to you. Bakugou and you have been together for a few months now and at this point you’ve grown used to the relationship. There was even a sense of dependency you felt towards Bakugou, a way that your heart yearned for him in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

The two of you got along great. He made you laugh and smile more than anyone ever had and you seemed to be good at helping him see things through a clearer, calmer lens. There were nights shared together, just the two of you, where hours would pass that felt like seconds of pure bliss as you both simply talked. It was nothing special, if anything it was especially ordinary, but it flooded you with warmth and love and you cherished every second of it.

Things were good. Great.

But in the eyes of others, Bakugou wasn’t a big fan of PDA. He’d do it sometimes; he didn’t mind holding your hand or kissing you quickly after class, things like that. Overall though, his more intimate actions were shared behind closed doors and away from prying eyes and you had no problem with it.

You actually appreciated it. You liked having those special moments where it was just the two of you and no one else. It made them more cherished in your heart.

Bakugou, however, seemed to have no problem with PDA when it came beyond just the eyes of your classmates.

All the different classes had been given a free afternoon; meaning, students were free to choose to focus on whatever they sought best. It was, as Aizawa-sensei explained to your class, an opportunity to better get to know fellow-heroes-in-training and honestly, you’d been very excited at first. There was a group of girls that had quirks you thought meshed well with yours and you’d wanted to talk to them.

That had been the plan.

But Bakugou wouldn’t leave your side! Beyond that, it wasn’t just him hovering nearby, it was him constantly keeping a hand on you and not letting you leave his side. You didn’t necessarily mind if Bakugou came with you until you realized that he seemed to scare every person away from him, which, in turn, meant from you.

“You’re pouting.”

Huffing, you turn away from Bakugou; “I'm annoyed.”

“Is it wrong that I want to spend time with my girlfriend?” Bakugou quirks a challenging brow at you, smirking.

“No,” you roll your eyes. “But you scare everyone away.”

“Oi.”

“It’s true!”

Sighing, there’s an echoed moment of silence before Bakugou frowns down at you. “I’m just worried about you.”

Shifting so his arm is no longer around your waist and rather you’re holding it, you glance up at him; “we’re literally surrounded by a bunch of heroes-in-training.” Then, pausing, you add somewhat spitefully; “which includes me.”

Bakugou just shakes his head; “I know.”

“Katsuki,” you call, reaching forward to brush your fingers across his cheek in the way you know he likes. Instantly, the tension in his face eases; something that never fails to make you smile. “We’re supposed to be mingling.”

He scoffs. “You sound like shitty hair.”

“Because Eijirou is right,” you challenge.

Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, Bakugou hesitates; “what do they matter? They’re a bunch of extras anyway.”

“I thought we were done calling our friends extras,” you remind.

“They’re not our friends.”

“Katsuki.”

“Fine,” he snaps, face pinched in clear annoyance but a certain frustration in the fact that he knows you’re right. “I’ll leave you and ‘mingle’,” he makes sure to add the air quotes. “But only for an hour. Then I'll find you and we’re gonna do some training.”

“Yes,” you nod, “of course. Naturally.”

Your words are teasing but said with a certain fondness. Bakugou was always training and it was clearly a hobby of his that he wanted to share with you – honestly, sometimes his training sessions were absolute hell but you’d put up with them for his sake.

With a final nod and a kiss, Bakugou stomps off. Distantly, you hear him shouting ‘shitty-hair’ but you figure Kirishima can deal with his clingy ass for an hour while you go and meet some new people.

And for the first forty minutes, it goes well. You’re bouncing from area to area, meeting new people and chatting with them, even sparring with a few. It’s great. You loved your class and your friends, but it was so interesting getting new perspectives from different people that were training in different ways than U.A. typically did. It was absolutely invigorating and you were reveling in every second of it.

Until you come across a boy named Aoto.

The conversation starts fine; he kind of runs into you but you laugh it off and learn he’s actually from a school located in America that had come down to Japan for this huge hero event. You compliment him on his Japanese, finding it amazing that he nails the pronunciation of words so well and falls into an eased conversation. Then, as the minutes pass by, the conversation starts to shift into a stranger topic.

Aoto asks if you’ve found your soulmate – it’s rather sudden and not something you’re really expecting. Still, you tell him you have and he asks if it was the blonde boy he’s seen glued to your side the entire day; it’s said with a certain edge you’re thrown off by and that’s where you start to grow a little weary.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly. “Katsuki. The way we found out is actually a funny story—”

“Isn’t he the one that the League of Villains took when he was in his first year?”

Your lips are left parted from his sudden interruption, but instantly your eyes narrow at his tone. “The League of Villains kidnapped him,” you say warily, somewhat defensively. “But Katsuki fought to get away and never once even considered their offer to join them—”

“Yeah,” Aoto cuts you off again, dismissing you with a single wave of his hand. “But isn’t he the reason why All Might had to retire too?”

Instantly, all pretense disappears. You’d already been annoyed but your face shifts into something nasty at his insinuation; even more because you knew that was something that still haunted Bakugou to this day. It wasn’t true, of course, but you knew that it still remained on his mind constantly.

“All Might fought to save one of his students,” you hiss, taking a step back from him. “And it isn’t Katsuki's fault the fight ended that way.”

“I don’t know,” Aoto hums, “someone like that? I wouldn’t care if he was my soulmate, I’d stay away from him. He’s quite terrifying too, I’d bet that if given another chance he wouldn’t hesitate to join—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as he suddenly falls to his knees, clutching his head in pain as he lets out a cry. You step towards him as he does, letting him wallow in pain for a moment longer before letting go. Aoto instantly falls back the second he does, staring up at you in disbelief and fear as you glare down at him;

“You don’t know the first thing about Katsuki. So don’t pretend you do.”

Aoto just sputters up at you, eyes wide, practically shaking.

Then, a familiar voice calls out; “Y/N?”

You spin, face easing the second you meet Bakugou’s. He’s walking towards you, confused eyes flickering between you and Aoto, who's still on the ground, before Bakugou finally registers the look on your face and instantly, Bakugou’s eyes narrow.

“Did this damn extra do something to you?”

Rushing forward, you catch Bakugou by the arm before he can reach Aoto, pulling him towards you; “Katsuki. Katsuki! It’s fine, it’s okay!”

Bakugou just shakes his head as Aoto stares fearfully up at him, looking near tears.

“No, it’s not,” Bakugou growls, “if he hurt you or said anything—”

Shifting, you press both of your hands against Bakugou’s cheeks, cupping them and forcing him to meet your eyes. He’s panting and his eyes are wild but he instantly focuses on you, gaze softening.

“Let’s just go,” you whisper, “I just wanna spend time with you.”

That catches his attention. All anger wipes from his face instantly and Bakugou is instantly easing in your grasp, face brightening as slowly nods, moving to take your head in his own and threading his fingers through yours. He squeezes your hand, sending one last frightening glance Aoto’s way before walking off, leading you with him.

Then, a few minutes later when it’s just the two of you, Bakugou smirks down at you;

“Thought you wanted to ‘mingle’.”

Grinning, you shrug; “it’s more fun with you.”

#mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader

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jjunberry · 4 months ago

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Tied up reader for jeonghan 🤓🤓

❝ with a bow ❞

yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, smut

warnings: dom jeonghan, brat/sub reader, rope/ribbon play, pet names, degradation, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating

wc: 1k mlist

jeonghan has a box under the bed filled with different ribbons and ropes. he used them rarely, only really when you were a brat and he had to teach you a lesson. your goal today was to get him angry enough for the box to come out. you’ve decided to be a brat all day.

it started when you changed his alarm for work, setting it an hour later than normal. when his alarm went off he noticed how much brighter it was outside. “what the fuck?,” he groaned, moving your arm from his waist. he angrily got dressed and left the apartment.

you giggled sitting up in bed, you grabbed your phone seeing it was 8:35am, he was due at the studio an hour ago. scrolling through your notifications you seen a text from your boyfriend.

jeonghan ♡: changing my alarm really baby? don’t be such a brat.

you smiled accepting the challenge. after a quick shower and short breakfast, you got dressed for the day. a day of shopping with jeonghan’s credit card. you first stopped to get coffee, you knew jeonghan had notifications on his phone. deciding the mall was the best place you headed there.

ulta beauty was first, five-hundred dollars here. next was victoria’s secret, two thousand there. you of course had to stop and get some new clothing, another thousand spent. your arms started to get tired from all the bags, usually jeonghan carried them for you.

with one last stop to the jewelry store you bought a few new necklaces, a ring set and a new watch for jeonghan. another two thousand dollars spent. part of the plan was ignoring jeonghan while he worked, so the 40 missed texts, and 15 missed calls didn’t really surprise you.

you couldn’t wait to get home, you found a cute baby pink set. the thin lacy material barely covering you. left nothing to the imagination. once you got home you changed into the lingerie set, and used your new makeup.

satisfied with how you looked, you posed in the mirror taking photos. of course you made sure the bags were visible in the background. with a giggle you sent your favorite photos to jeonghan with the simple caption “thinking of you.”

it didn’t take jeonghan long to answer you.

jeonghan ♡: i see you went shopping, 5,500$ that’s a little low baby, perhaps because you didn’t ask. i’ll be home in 20 mins. i expect you to be waiting on that bed for me.

the chill that went through you was quickly replaced with excitement. the thought of jeonghan punishing you had you soaked. you laid on your bed, your fingers finding your clit. you rubbed slowly, bringing your other hand up to pinch your nipple.

to caught up in the moment you didn’t hear the front door. jeonghan made his way upstairs, his body leaned against the door frame of your bedroom, eyes taking in your body dressed in the lacy pink fabric.

“cum and i won’t touch you for a month,” his interruption had you halting your actions. “h-hannie, you’re home early.” you said closing your legs. “don’t play dumb, you’ve been a brat all day.”

he walked towards the bed and crouched, you sat up on your knees peering down at him. jeonghan pulled the box from underneath, and when he lifted the lid his eyes scanned the contents.

“you’ve been a naughty girl y/n,” he reached inside and grabbed the pink fabric. “i’ll have to teach you a lesson.” he closed the lid and stood quickly. he flipped you on your stomach, bringing your hands behind your back.

he wrapped the pink ribbon around your torso, securing the knot around your wrists with a bow. you wiggled attempting to move but the ribbon restricted your movement. he grabbed the extra ribbon and tied your legs together, securing the knot around your ankles with another bow.

jeonghan took a step back from the bed, taking in the view. “hannie,” you whined. he ignored you as he unbuckled his belt, allowing his pants to drop. out of the corner of your eye you could see the outline of his erection.

jeonghan freed himself from his boxers, his hand pumping himself. precum leaked from his tip, you bit your lip to stop the whines. “be quiet and maybe i’ll let you cum,” his voice was low.

his hand spread you apart, your juices leaking around his fingers. “such a slut,” he tsked. he could see you clenching around nothing, “so desperate for me, aren’t you?” he smirked. before you knew it he was pushing himself into you.

you could taste blood with how hard you bit your lip, trying to be quiet so desperate to cum. jeonghan moaned as he bottomed out, “fuck, you take me so well baby.” he rocked his hips, his tip brushing your cervix. “mhm fuck,” his moans were like music to your ears.

the knot in your stomach was quick to grown, but you couldn’t let go in fear of him denying your orgasm. jeonghan had his head thrown back as he snapped his hips into yours.

“mhm fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” his hips snapped into yours roughly before his actions stilled, his cum spilling into you. painting your walls white, the hot cum leaked out once he pulled away. your body shook at the loss of contact. “should i reward you?” he asked backing away slightly.

your tied up form making his dick twitch again. “p-please hannie, i’m sorry i’ll be good,” you begged. he smirked before diving into your cunt, lapping up the mixture of your wetness and his cum.

his tongue and fingers were quick to get you there, the knot in your stomach snapped. you came all over his tongue, squeezing out the last of his cum and yours. jeonghan wiped his mouth and smirked. “there’s my good girl,” he untied you allowing your limbs to rest.

you ignored the ache in your limbs as you threw your arms around jeonghan’s neck. “i-i’m sorry hannie, i’ll be your good girl,” he smirked holding you close. “i know you will baby, but even good girls deserve some fun,” he guided you to the bathroom. there he ran you a hot bath, and sat with you.

you smiled, it was so worth being a brat sometimes.

🗒️: thinking of requesting? read my guidelines.

author’s note: i swear i’m not a rope bunny y’all but for jeonghan i would be 🤭 hehe

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

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queenshelby · 6 months ago

Text

AMERICAN GIRL (PART SIX)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo

Over the next few days, you tried to avoid Tommy at all costs and when Ada invited you and Emma to stay with her for a few nights in London, you couldn't help but accept her offer with open arms.

The bustling city provided a much-needed distraction from the constant tension that seemed to have surfaced since that evening at the Garrison and Ada even took you shopping to help you find something elegant.

One evening, however, you decided to venture out on your own , eager to enjoy the anonymity that the city offered and explore the vibrant nightlife. It was then that you stumbled upon a lavish and elegant establishment, nestled in an unsuspecting corner, away from the main streets.

There was a guard or so called bouncer in front of the door, telling you that women were not allowed in on their own. The place was exclusive, and you couldn't help but feel intrigued, craving a taste of this mysterious new luxury.

Although you wanted to press the issue, a sense of caution and self-preservation stopped you from making a fuss.

"You are not a performer, are you Love?" another man in a suit asked just as you were about to leave . The intrigue in his eyes was unmistakable, and a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"And what makes you ask me that?" you inquired with a hint of amusement, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, it's just a hunch, Sweetheart," he replied, slowly letting his gaze roam over your figure, trying to gauge your response. The way he eyed you filled you with a curious mixture of unease and exhilaration. "Because, if you are, in fact, a performer, I can let you in," he continued, his voice low and seductive, daring you to challenge him.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I am," you replied boldly, with just enough of a flicker in your eyes to make him believe you. "I am singer and, after few whiskeys on the house, I may even be happy enough to perform for free," you added, the corner of your lip quirking upwards in a challenging grin.

The man looked at you with a newfound sense of amusement and interest, a slow smirk spreading across his face before he opened the door, waving you in.

As you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by a world unlike any other; dimly lit, adorned with red velvet drapes, and filled with the sound of loud, lively jazz music. It was a world shrouded in mystery, decadence and, above all, allure.

As you ventured further into this unknown territory, your pulse quickened, and a heady thrill surged through your veins. The intoxicating atmosphere seemed almost tangible, and you couldn't help but be drawn into its hypnotic embrace.

Waiters adorned in crisp suits skillfully weaved through tables, expertly balancing trays laden with amber-colored liquid concoctions. A woman with fiery red hair, accentuated by an elegant sequined dress, sauntered around the baby grand piano with a predatory grace. Her voice intermingled with the music, creating an atmosphere that was as captivating as it was provocative.

"A drink for you ma'am?" offered a waiter in a pristine suit, his eyes sharp and observant. The novelty of this enchanting place hadn't worn off yet, but his hawkish attention made you a little nervous.

"Yes, please. I'll have whatever you recommend," you responded, attempting to match his neutral expression with one of your own.

The waiter then gently placed an elegant, stemmed glass before you, adorned with a delicate slice of orange peel expertly twirled over the top.

"Will you be performing?" he too asked, seeing that you were on your own and not part of the usual décor that littered the establishment. This question caught you a bit off guard, but it also brought along a spark of excitement in your chest; you had not prepared for such a turn events, but it seemed to be unfolding quite nicely in front of your eyes.

"Yes, I suppose I will," you responded confidently, holding his gaze for a moment before turning away to scan the stage area. The waiter nodded and walked away, leaving you to ponder your decision. You briefly wondered if you had made the right choice, but your curiosity and the thrill of the unknown whispered in your ear like a silent siren call. The temptation to stay and lose yourself in this immersive world was too enticing to ignore.

You scanned the elegant room with its sultry atmosphere until your gaze landed upon a familiar figure in the corner, sitting with his back to you. Thomas.

His presence sent your heart into a frenzy, causing it to gallop uncontrollably inside your chest. A concoction of emotions surged through you, and you realized that you cared too much for someone who was as good as forbidden.

Why was he here, out of all places, you wondered ? A strange coincidence perhaps. You considered leaving, sparing yourself the torture of watching him from afar, yet your curiosity anchored you to the spot.

Your plan needed a rethink. With newfound resolve, you walked up to the woman on stage as she took a break and gently tapped her on the shoulder. She paused what she was doing, turned to you, and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Yes, dear?" she inquired with a knowing smile.

"I was wondering if I could sing a few songs during your interval," you confessed with a bashful smile. The woman, seemingly amused by your proposition, studied you for a few beats before nodding her head.

"Absolutely, darling. The stage is yours," she replied, extending her hand towards the microphone.

With a grateful nod, you made your way onto the platform, pulling in a measured breath to steady your nerves.

With trembling fingers, you adjusted the microphone stand and clasped it tightly to ground yourself in the swirling sea of emotions threatening to consume you. The gentle hum of conversation gradually receded, replaced by an expectant hush that blanketed the entire room which is when you began to sing.

The words and melody came almost naturally to you , weaving together an intricate tapestry of emotion and sound. Each note resonated deep within you, released from a secret chamber that had been longing to be opened.

The enraptured patrons listened intently as they sipped their martinis and bourbons, the room's electricity shifting palpably, settling around you with an intensity that left you breathless. You felt exposed and vulnerable through each verse, and yet you couldn't deny the uninhibited freedom that singing had awakened within you.

But you did not just sing, you performed and, soon enough, the band that had been taking a break joined in. You loosened your hair from its tidy bun and let it cascade down your shoulders, dancing wildly, as your voice weaved in and out of the pulsating rhythm. There was a wild magic in every movement, a seductive allure in the lyrics you effortlessly strung together. It was a captivating performance that left everyone motionless, including Thomas.

As you sang, you forgot about the forbidden nature of him, the danger that surrounded his presence, his empire of deception and secrets, and instead lost yourself in the music, letting go of all inhibitions.

Men cheered and clapped, while women looked on with admiration and envy. You swayed along with the melody, the enchanting notes escaping your lips effortlessly. Each and every word seemed like vows whispered only to the man who had captured your heart, despite knowing that their paths were meant to never cross.

When you finally finished singing and the band drew their instruments to a close, the room erupted into thunderous applause, but before you knew it, there were two hands on you, ushering you off the stage, through the back.

"That's enough Love," Thomas murmured in your ear. "You had enough attention tonight, eh," he added, a hint of frustration and annoyance leaking into his voice. You were surprised by his appearance, but it thrilled you even more.

"But I just started," you protested half-heartedly, relishing his possessive nature. Thomas simply shook his head, his expression remaining firm as he pulled you behind the velvet curtain while the red-haired woman took over again, thanking you for your impeccable performance before signing a tune of her own.

"It's time for you to leave," he declared, his voice low and authoritative.

"Why?" you asked. "There is no harm in me singing?" you queried with an arched brow, searching his eyes for reasonable justification for his sudden protectiveness.

His hold around your waist intensified as he pulled you closer, causing involuntary shivers to ripple through you.

"That's not what concerns me," Thomas confessed gruffly. The corners of his lips twitched almost imperceptibly. "But these men are unpredictable, high on fucking cocaine and just waiting for someone like you," he began to say before being cut off by you.

"You know what I think Tommy?" you quipped, feeling a surge of courage thanks to the adrenaline and confidence from your performance. "You are jealous," you accused, looking straight into his eyes, challenging him to disagree.

The atmosphere between you and Thomas grew tenser as he held your gaze, searching for a response that somehow justified his feelings. You could see the internal struggle and conflict within him. He was not a man easily swayed by his emotions, yet here you were, igniting feelings in him that he couldn't suppress easily.

"I am not fucking jealous Love," he replied, barely hiding the irritation in his voice.

You smiled wryly, knowing deep down that your suspicion was not far off. The flicker of something unreadable in Thomas' eyes only served to heighten your curiosity and spur you on.

"Oh, I think you are," you pressed on. "You can't stand other men giving me attention. You can't even stand them looking at me for too long," you persisted, daring to call out his jealousy with the boldness that came from being under the spotlight.

Thomas' eyes flashed, but he didn't deny it. Instead, he tightened his hold around your waist and steered you out of the back door, away from the prying eyes of the crowd.

The chilly air greeted your warm skin as you stumbled out onto the dimly lit alleyway.

"Tell me that I am right," you demanded as, suddenly, Thomas pressed you against the cold brick wall, his body hovering close, pinning you in place.

His blue eyes glittered with an intensity that was at once alarming and exhilarating, a quiet storm brewing in their depths. Every rational thought in your head seemed to fade away as you found yourself drowning in the all-consuming presence that was Thomas Shelby.

"Listen Love," he growled lowly, a rough quality weaving into his voice. "You're playing with fire here, and you don't even realize it." Thomas' voice was barely a whisper, a low warning that only served to fuel the flame crackling between them. You stared up at him, refusing to back down from the challenge in his eyes.

"Then I suppose I'll burn," you replied, your voice steady and unafraid, igniting his gaze.

Thomas leaned in, and you closed your eyes, anticipating the touch of his lips on yours. Instead, he trailed his nose along your jawline, inhaling deeply as if desperate to etch your scent into his memory.

When his lips found your ear, he whispered, "You don't know what you do to me."

The sensation of his breath against your skin caused an ache to bloom within you, deepening with every brush of his lips against your delicate flesh. His hands slid down your arms, capturing your wrists before gently pinning them above your head. The contrast between his possessive gesture and the way he caressed your skin with feather-light strokes was both intoxicating and maddening.

You gasped, the contact sending your thoughts reeling.

"Fucking kiss me already," you whispered, urgent need clawing its way out of your throat. You opened your eyes, meeting Thomas' gaze head-on. The hunger in his eyes was impossible to miss, mirroring the longing that gnawed at your very insides.

" Is that what you really want?" he crooned, his warm breath caressing the shell of your ear. Your body trembled almost imperceptibly, aching for his touch, for the feel of his lips pressed against yours. The suspense was overwhelming, the promise of something delicious lingering precariously close.

"Yes," you replied breathlessly, trying to keep your desperation in check as, finally, he claimed your lips with his. The taste of whiskey and tobacco lingered on his tongue, igniting new sensations within you. When he deepened the kiss, there was an intensity that resonated in the way his hands slid down your arms and then around your waist, like he couldn't bear to let you go.

The way Thomas kissed you—with a passion that felt unmatched, as if he had been searching for something in you and finally discovered a hidden key to unlock the door. The exhilarating feeling of his strong hands exploring your supple curves only added fuel to the fire that burned relentlessly inside of you, awakening your senses, making you feel more alive than ever.

As if he could sense the effect he had on you, Thomas pulled away, leaving you both breathless.

"I am staying at the Dorchester," he revealed with a husky whisper, his gaze still locked on your flushed face. "And I want you to come with me tonight," Thomas urged softly, his voice thick with desire and unspoken promises.

But instead of immediately responding, you hesitated. After all, venturing off into the unknown could lead to thrilling experiences, but there was always a chance they might forever change your life as he would be your first.

"Look at me," he whispered tenderly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "I promise you; nothing will happen that you don't want to." His reassurance touched your heart as he leaned into gently place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Okay, so lead the way then," you murmured, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin.

Your decision made, a shiver of excitement and anticipation raced through you.

You straightened your dress, smoothing out the creases as Thomas lead you down the dark alleyway towards the luxurious hotel that he was staying in, which was just a short stroll from the establishment you had just sung at.

***

Several minutes later, you arrived at the Dorchester, a magnificent building with an elegant exterior. Thomas held the door open for you, and you stepped into the grand foyer, your heels clicking against the marble floor.

You could feel the weight of the staff's curious gazes on you, as whispers filtered through the air, but Thomas paid them no mind, his hand rested securely on the small of your back as he guided you towards the elevator.

The doors slid open with a soft ding, and the pair of you stepped inside. Thomas slid his key into the slot and pressed the button for the penthouse suite.

The elevator ascended smoothly, and your heart raced with every floor that passed. When the door finally slid open, you stepped out into the luxurious penthouse, your eyes wide with awe at the opulence surrounding you.

Thomas walked over to the expansive windows, his hands thrust deep into his pockets as he took in the view of London below. You lingered behind, taking in the surroundings of the lavish room. The plush carpet felt soft under your heels, and the scent of fine leather and rich mahogany filled the air.

Tommy turned to face you, a sensual smile on his lips.

"What do you think, Love?" he asked, gesturing to the surroundings before approaching you and caressing your face.

"I think it's perfect," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, as you leaned into his touch.

Thomas leaned in, brushing his lips gently against yours, sending a wave of pleasure surging through your veins. You couldn't deny the chemistry that sizzled between you, nor could you resist the temptation of finally crossing the line that you had both been dancing around for so long.

The tension between you had been building for weeks, and it was a spark that was ready to ignite into a raging inferno. The connection you shared was magnetic, a force so powerful that it seemed impossible to resist.

"Fuck, Y/N," Thomas murmured against your lips, his voice low and gruff. "You have no idea how much I want you."

His hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of heated desire in their wake. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your breasts, the silk dress you were wearing offering little protection against his touch.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as he slowly began to undo the buttons on your dress, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste to touch your naked skin.

"Tommy wait," you breathed, placing a hand on his chest to halt his movements. He looked at you, his eyes darkening with desire at the sound of your plea.

"What is it, Love?" he asked, his voice low and husky, filled with a barely restrained hunger that sent shivers running down your spine.

"I have never done this before," you confessed, biting your lower lip nervously, as if the words tasted wrong on your tongue. Thomas paused, his hands stilling on your body as he looked at you with a tenderness that took your breath away.

"Do you want to stop?" Thomas whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"No," you replied, your voice firm despite the nervous tremor that ran through it. "I want this. I want you," you assured him, your voice filled with conviction, as you looked deep into his eyes.

Thomas nodded, understanding dawning in his gaze before leaning down to capture your lips with his own. The kiss was slow and passionate, a promise of the pleasures to come. His hands returned to your buttons, finishing what he had started.

The dress opened, revealing the thin lace lingerie you wore underneath. Thomas trailed his fingers along the exposed skin, making you shiver with anticipation. He cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," Thomas breathed, his eyes raking over your body.

He lowered his head, taking one of your nipples into his mouth through the lace fabric.

You gasped as his tongue swirled over the sensitive bud, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he continued to tease and tantalize you.

"Fuck," you breathed, your head falling back as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. "Please, Tommy, I need more."

Thomas raised his head, looking at you with dark, passion-filled eyes. "Begging already, Love?" he teased, a wicked smile twisting his lips as he finally guided you towards the large four poster bed.

You didn't dignify that with a response, your gaze locked onto his as he slowly began to remove your clothing. The anticipation was almost unbearable as he painstakingly revealed inch after inch of your skin until you were left in nothing more than your panties.

"Lie down for me," Thomas commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. You obliged, your heart pounding in your chest as you sank back onto the cool sheets, your body bared for him.

He looked like a predator preparing to claim his prize, a dark and dangerous look in his eyes that made your insides clench with need. Slowly, deliberately, he began to strip off his own clothing.

You couldn't tear your gaze away from the sight of him, the rippling muscles of his chest and abdomen, the hardness of his erection straining against the confines of his trousers.

"I can't fucking wait to taste you, Love," Thomas growled, his eyes glinting with hunger as he crawled up the bed, settling himself between your legs.

He parted your thighs, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers brushed against the dampness of your panties.

"Fuck, Tommy," you whispered, writhing beneath him as he teased you, his movements slow and maddening. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second, your desire for him reaching new heights.

"Please," you begged, arching your hips up towards him, desperate for release.

Thomas chuckled low in his throat, the sound reverberating through your entire body.

"God, you're impatient," he teased, his fingers dancing over your damp folds, lingering just outside of your entrance. You whimpered with frustration, your fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

"Tommy, please," you begged again, your voice trembling with desire. Thomas finally took mercy on you and pulled off your soaked underwear, leaving you completely bared to him. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine.

"You're so fucking perfect," Thomas whispered, his voice filled with reverence. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a fierce determination that made your heart race before, finally, liking the tip of his tongue over your entrance.

You cried out at the contact, your back arching off the bed as he began to tease and taste you, his movements slow and measured.

"Fuck," you gasped, your fingers desperately gripping the sheets beneath you as he sucked your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your breathing grew ragged, each breath sounding like a soft moan as he continued to worship you with his mouth, his tongue delving inside of you, tasting your sweetness.

Your hips bucked wildly, desperate for him to bring you closer to the edge, but Thomas had no intention of rushing. Every lick, every kiss he planted on your heated flesh was done with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Fuck, Tommy. This feels so good," you moaned, not knowing fully what was actually happening to you. You never felt like this before ; this overwhelming wave of pleasure and desire, this sensation of losing control. It seemed to come from the depths of your very being, rising to the surface as your body trembled under Thomas's expert touch.

"God, you taste like heaven," Thomas growled, his voice thick with desire as he continued to explore you with his mouth. You could feel the orgasm building inside of you, the knot of pleasure growing tighter and tighter with each passing second.

Your breath hitched, your hands clenched into fists, and your toes curled with pleasure as Thomas continued to devour you.

Suddenly, he pulled away, leaving you panting and writhing on the bed, desperate for the release that had been just within your grasp. You looked down at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and desire.

"Why did you stop?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of desire.

"I want to feel you come apart on my cock, Love," he said, his voice rough and raw. You nodded eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation.

Slowly, Thomas crawled up your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he went. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting yourself on his lips. It was filthy and primal, and you couldn't get enough of it.

Thomas' body hovered over yours, his muscles rippling in the dim light of the room. He was a vision of masculinity and power, and you couldn't believe that he was here with you. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Open your legs, Love," Thomas growled, his voice deep and raw with desire. You complied, allowing him to settle between your thighs. He rubbed his cock against your wet folds, teasing you and making you gasp with pleasure.

Thomas was a master of anticipation, drawing out the moment until your body was trembling with need.

"Go slow, please," you said, reminding him that you never had sex before .

There was a look of concern that crossed his face for a moment, but then he leaned down to kiss you with a passion that stole your breath away. His mouth devoured yours as his hands roamed your curves with reverence.

When he broke the kiss, Thomas whispered, "We don't have to if you, -" he began to say but you cut him off. "I want to. I trust you," you replied, looking him in the eyes. A soft smile tugged at the corner of Thomas' lips before he nodded.

"I will go slow. I promise, Love," Thomas breathed the words against your lips before he reached down between your bodies to grip his cock. He guided it toward your entrance, teasing you by rubbing the head of his cock along your wet folds again.

You whimpered, your body trembling beneath him, begging for more.

Slowly, Thomas pushed inside of you, the feeling of your warmth enveloping him causing a low growl to rumble in his chest. You gasped at the sensation of him filling you up. It hurt, but it also felt so good.

" Oh God, Thomas..." you breathed out, digging your nails into his shoulders as he paused, allowing you to adjust to his size.

Thomas kissed you desperately, his tongue driving into your mouth as if he was trying to convey how much this moment meant to him. You tasted whiskey and something bitter, but that only turned you on more.

"You're so fucking tight, Love," Thomas grunted, his hips starting to move in slow, teasing thrusts that quickly gained intensity. Each plunge of his cock pushed you further up the bed, your body writhing beneath him.

Your breath caught in your throat as he hit a spot deep inside of you that triggered a wave of unparalleled pleasure. Thomas grinned against your neck, his thrusts quickening as he pressed his tongue against the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

"I can feel you, Love, clenching around me. It feels so fucking good," Thomas groaned. His hand snaked down your body, finding the swollen bud of your clit. He rubbed slow, gentle circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within your chest.

Your hips lifted off the bed in a desperate attempt to grind yourself against his fingers, but Thomas was relentless, his rhythm steady and unyielding.

"That's it, Love. Let go for me," Thomas coaxed, his voice strained with desire. He moved his hand from your clit, replacing it with his lips as he sought out the sweet spot just below your ear. "Come for me, Y/N."

He had said your name, and the sound of it on his lips sent shivers down your spine.

With that, you let go, your orgasm rushing through you like a tidal wave. Your back arched off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under Thomas's powerful frame.

His thrusts grew more frantic as your inner muscles clenched around him, milking him for all that he had. The sensation of your warm release coating his cock triggered his own orgasm, and Thomas roared as he filled you up with hot jets of his seed.

He continued to thrust into you as you both came down from your highs, prolonging the exquisite pleasure that held you captive.

As you lay beneath him, limp and thoroughly satiated, Thomas rolled off of you and gathered you in his arms. He pulled you against his chest, tucking your head under his chin as he breathed in the scent of your hair.

"Fuck, Love," he muttered, his voice hoarse from the force of his release. "That was... incredible."

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

Your entire body still tingled from the mind-blowing orgasm Thomas had given you. You felt like putty in his arms, completely content and relaxed. Thomas brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, leaving a soft kiss in its place.

"You okay, Love?" he asked, concern etched on his face as he looked down at you. You nodded, still unable to find your voice. Thomas grinned, pride radiating from him.

"Good," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Y/N. The moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you."

You looked up at Thomas, your eyes meeting his as he spoke. His gaze was intense, and you could feel the desire simmering beneath the surface.

"No one can ever know about this, Tommy ," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I know, Love," he reassured you, his voice low and husky. "But I am going to struggle to keep my hands off you, Y/N." The way he said your name made your heart flutter. It was as if you were the only person in the world that existed to him. You knew you shouldn't feel this way about him, but you couldn't help yourself.

You stayed in his arms for what seemed like hours, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. The world outside of the penthouse room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of intimacy until, eventually, you fell asleep in Tommy's arms.

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577 notes · View notes

anantaru · 2 years ago

Text

— cute things they do unintentionally

including tighnari, scaramouche, alhaitham, kaveh x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack??, very sweet and loving, they adore you

— tighnari + his ears twitch and he blushes easily around you

the usual self assured and poised tighnari had a lovely habit of being all over the place in front of you— after all, he‘s unquestionably in love with you, wholly, and he adores you.

on the treacly occasion of that— when you decide to casually meet up for a tranquil walk with your sweet forest ranger or a serene spending at home enclosed by his arms, you can clearly see a diverse change in mannerism, yet one detail in particular outshines the others abundantly.

it‘s when he reacts at one of your jokes, but not just that, it can be a random notion or story you would happily talk about, what you happened to do these past hours you had been apart— perhaps a pretty rose catching your attention, its sprouting scent squaring over your nostrils, each petal so beautiful and soft— but his cheeks then idly bristle with a fire-like convulsion when you drift off into your day dream while hugging yourself into his chest, and tighnari shelters a pink color on his face.

regardless of how, his ears then, you called it! twitch.

once, twice, it's frantic, far and wide— but he knows what that feeling is too, he knows better than to desperately fight against it so instead he swiftly averts his gaze from you to recollect himself, somehow.

for tighnari, it was clear as day that this task was challenging, at bottom you were simply irresistible to him— you meet him and his breathing shortens, but he is content with you, yet wholly engulfed that it left him bereaved of required oxygen.

of course, well, this was indeed happening to him right now, but he asks himself, then grunts in frustration, not again, why must it always happen on the most burdensome times for him to lose himself, especially when he was just growing tired and had attempted to fall asleep surrounded by your consummating scent and weightless traces?

"is something the matter?"

it wasn't unusual for you to point out a dissimilarity of his habitual behavior, and your eyes were webbed with transparent worry that tighnari felt immensely guilty over, because it was him who inflicted it upon you.

to flip the coin into a distinct course of action, he says your name— a little breathy, silk-like— but it translates into the language of your heart and exudes into your body.

"i‘m alright, *cough* just caught something in my eye."

— scaramouche + gets all happy and excited when he tells you stories

scaramouche's velvety, smooth voice plays in your head on repeat, when he talks to you it's a sign of love, a sign of i want you to know this, or to elaborate further, it's evident to;

'i need you to know this because you're important to me and only you matter.'

you're fixated on his ecstatic sewn pupils and you openly admit to yourself that you cannot get enough of all the witty stories he would tell you on a daily basis— it did not matter to you how minuscule or of little importance they may be, what truly mattered was that scaramouche had begun to be more open and forthcoming towards you.

what your charming boyfriend was not aware of nor fathomed, was how contrasting his behavior would turn whenever he's thoroughly meshed in his story telling mode.

true feverishness and a drastic hurdle of thrill settles in his mannerism as he excitedly continues his own personal anecdotes of the passing day.

but those eyes, those spirited indigo eyes were vitally euphonious to the concealed dimples on his face that split larger after each new word spelled out, around the corners of his mouth to be exact, therefore accentuating his doughy, handsome physical responses.

extending far down, scaramouche was acquainted with undoubtable sureness that it was you who helped him grow, who showed him an escape route from the blooded thorns of his past.

"hey!" wow, what a way to snap you back to reality.

scaramouche sounded like he was in dire need of some attention from you and his hands were awkwardly tugged to each side of his body— though, let me get you in on a secret, the secret of all secrets, he actually longed to have them drawn on your frame, in effect, glissading them over your soft skin to pull you into a hug afterwards.

"are you even listening to me?!"

"of course i am!" you're lying, you're not.

in actuality you leaned into the delicious easement of your thoughts again— precisely about comforting memories from your boyfriend, even though he was right in front of you, in all of his splendor beauty, feeling understood even in your silence.

"okay, so what did i just say?"

"uhm."

damn you scaramouche and your refined ability to look right through someones skin and capture a glimpse of everything he needed to know.

"okay okay." you lean back into your chair— defeated, hands dramatically throw up in the air while fighting back the urge to say something that would drive your boyfriend off the edge.

but, at long last, you go in anyways, "you're just very cute." and it's the same again, his eyes widen in eternal radiance— rivaling celestial bodies in outer space while kuni seals his lips together in frustration because you managed to catch him off guard again.

the man huffs before erratically coughing out, attempting to distract you from his flustered face, but we all know he won't manage to accomplish that.

— alhaitham + scrunches his brows together when he complains about something

alhaitham abominates working. the end.

precisely supplemental hours of his existing work tasks that mostly focus on him aiding helpless akademiya scholars in their failing research.

while— being in a relationship with the acting grand sage of the sumeru akademiya naturally came with a lot of things, both good and bad feats— as might be expected the goods always outshine the negatives, you despite that understood your boyfriends increasing urge to get rid of his current title as fast as possible.

alhaitham was a busy man now, even busier than beforehand— and he regarded it with disgust, throughout-going abhorred it, that he couldn't come home at his routined time to spend some additional hours with you, his sweet significant other.

what alhaitham does know was that whenever he did arrive from a fatigued day— you will always, heavy emphasizing on the always, earnestly wait for him with a giant hot cup of tea being planted on the kitchen counter, on stand by and ready to be tasted by the man you loved like nothing else on this world.

"you're home later than usual."

a gasp of surprise evaporated from within as you began to point out the obvious, excitedly strolling towards alhaitham to gift him a proper welcome home, accentuating the passion filled gesture with a little peck on his warm cheek.

"it's unbelievable, isn't it?" someone must've woken up a tilt grumpy today, you figured, but let him carry on with his words.

"—and one might think that if there is nothing to do, i can simply take my leave." he continues, kicking his boots off his feet, one by one, while breathlessly sinking into the giant couch.

before the tea would turn cold, you decided to gracefully hand him the home made beverage, but not darting yourself off him, listening eagerly to what he had to say.

"but no, they need me for every. minuscule. task."

and alhaitham's eyes twitch, again— though his brows, they were pressed together so damn tight, if you didn't know any better you would've expected him to pop a blood vessel by now.

"do i look like i am interested in social interactions?" he asks you now, yes, dead serious while pulling you in with his hypnotizing eyes— although lifted with some serious eye bags, they continued to hold a graven significance that had you drawn to him the most.

but this situation was wearing thin, at least alhaitham was alarmingly more tested than usual, but at last you couldn't help yourself and work against your honest reactions, laughing at how awfully adorable he could be at times, without smiling— but it's so sudden, his face was showing so much emotions and it only encourages the sharp sting inside of you to giggle once again.

but do not get those particular things messed up nor into wrong directions— because seeing alhaitham have a hard time at work wasn't the humorous part at hand, it was the way he had told them to you— nose held up high while he repeatedly huffs away the bothering hair strands falling into his face, which only adds fuel to the burning frustration in himself, or his eyes a touch nudged together and rolling into the back of his head at each of his own sentences spoken.

an outer perspective would ultimately determine that he's in reality talking and agreeing with himself.

"have i unintentionally said something humorous?"

"no." you immediately snort back at him and swiftly rub over your saturated eyes, because yes, you indeed laughed yourself to tears.

"or maybe you did." and you idly lean next to him while keeping one hand on his thigh, "but you're home now, please rest."

perhaps this was what alhaitham had wanted to hear all this time— as the second you said it he exhales deeply, through his parted lips but greatly, he doesn't think he has any more energy left in his body if he was being honest.

but that's it now, it was the ideal time to rest, nothing matters, not the past nor the future. he was in the precious, safe confines of his home with the person he loves the utmost (and his roommate napping next doors).

"you're right, apologies." you immediately know alhaitham's embarrassed when he's muttering his words, but he feels his heart audibly beat in his chest and so do you.

"nothing to apologize for, my love."

— kaveh + searches for your touch whenever you spend time together

kaveh's heart blossoms throughout the entire day with an immediate segment of impassioned love the trifling moment he catches onto your silver like voice musing into his ears— thank the archons you‘re here, because he might‘ve lost his mind if he was about to stay without your company for much longer.

in point of fact, it's beyond easy to forget the pressuring hardships he has experienced in the past when he looks into nothing but your fascinating eyes— it's spellbound, featherlight.

on the other hand, in his own imagination, kaveh was sure that in reality he had nothing to offer back to you— even with you kindly assuring him that he’s nothing but the best and perfect in your eyes, over and over until it’s carved into his damned skull, he continues to harvest that deep rooted insecurity in him. although regardless of his broadening insecurities, he continues to treat you like you deserve nothing but the world.

it can be spoken with enormous confidence that he can‘t get enough of you. kaveh didn't think of wanting to show you off— or maybe he did but not in an over the top way, he was just so much in love with you and had made it his own personal achievement to make the entirety of sumeru know that you're taken, yes it's true, everyone keep their hands off you because you are taken, and he was the one who captured your heart.

now with that out of the way, whenever you would decide to go out on a walk or grab a beverage to go, kaveh would unintentionally plant his palm on your lower back, keeping it there.

or when you're enjoying a warm day outside, finding great comfort in the beautiful panorama of sumeru city with the gratifying scent of padisarah establishing in your nostrils, he'd cautiously flicker his fingers against your own while interlocking them in the process, so he could hold your hand and be with you, even closer than before, and experience those little things that had him weak on the knees and indisputably giddy.

he needs his hands on you— around your shoulders, scattered on your back, coupling fingers into each other or a fine-drawn peck on your cheek before entering the cafe together.

while he does most of those things unintentionally, you will push him over the edge the moment you initiate those things yourself, when it is you who does it to him— it's when his lips slightly part and his eyes are blown out with both surprise and deep rooted love, when you cheekily smile back at kaveh while taking his hand to walk and rush him towards another precious spot you had been made aware of in sumeru city.

"you'll love this place baby, trust me!"

you assure kindly, cheeks prickling a warm cradle with your belly welcoming the sweet butterflies courteously— pulling kaveh to the desired destination and by the matching reactions of your connected bodies, he does the same to you.

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