#don’t ask me why i thought of this and made this

[juniperskye]

Corruption

Based on the following ask: Aaron with the youngest and newest member of the bau, taking her virginity in his office after hours, corrupting her in the most unprofessional way but praising her for being such a quick learner – I kind of went genius, girly-girl, virgin reader…but enjoy!!!

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

SMUT

Word count: 1772

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is early 20’s), explicit language, virgin reader, she’s also a genius and kind of a girly-girl, naïve reader, slight d/s dynamic, soft dom Hotch, corruption kink, lots of praise, use of sir, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than female anatomy, use of pet names, fingering, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this), choking, pure filth tbh…let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

It wasn’t the right time. That is what you said, time and time again, but then the right time never really came. First it was the high school boys were all too immature, then the college guys are all too pushy and unserious…and let’s face it, the guys in the FBI academy, well they were all too horny and desperate. So, you put all your focus into your studies and hard work. Who needed sex when you were achieving success at such a young age.

You were the youngest ever agent to join the BAU, even more so than Spencer. You’d been so motivated in school that you had dual majored during both your bachelor’s and master’s programs, finishing them in record time and completing your PHD while in the academy.

--

When you sauntered into Aaron’s office that day, trailing behind the director, he thought perhaps you were Cruz’s new assistant. With your tight little skirt and your long-painted nails, there was no way a sweet thing like you could be his new field agent.

Until you were.

“Hotchner, here is your latest recruit!” Cruz announced. “Be nice, she’s here to stay.”

You stepped forward and offered your hand to shake, quietly introducing yourself. Aaron took your hand, shaking it firmly before releasing it and gesturing for you to take a seat.

“You’re not at all what I was expecting.” He began.

“I hear that a lot. I don’t think people expect someone as accomplished as me to look this way.” You shift your gaze downward.

“How do you mean?” Aaron inquired.

“I just mean, I think people expect me to be a stereotypical nerd, seeing as I put my education first for so long. I don’t think they expect me to have put so much effort into my appearance as well.” You shrug.

Aaron was rendered speechless. You were right, when he had seen your long list of accomplishments, he was picturing someone a little more like Reid. Not a bombshell in a light pink blouse, tight skirt, heels and long pink fingernails.

And thus began Aaron babying you. He did everything in his power to keep you safe…which was becoming increasingly difficult as you continued to prove how qualified you were for this team.

--

He had been devastated when you’d been hurt the first time. It had been a slash of a knife to the shoulder, you’d ducked just in time to avoid your face. Aaron had been quick and pretty rough when taking that particular unsub down.

So, you see, it had been months like this and while…things were good, Aaron was overbearing, you were more than capable of holding your own and you didn’t understand why he was treating you this way.

That’s why you confronted him.

--

“Okay Hotch, what’s your problem?” You asked, entering his office unannounced.

“Excuse me?” He questioned you as you closed the door behind you and made yourself comfortable in the chair across from him.

“You know full well that I am capable of doing this job, so why do you purposefully hold me back?”

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to protect you.” He justified.

“I don’t need you to protect me though.” You huffed.

“The fact that you think that only proves how innocent you are.”

“I – I’m not innocent.” You shook your head.

Aaron clicked his tongue, standing to walk behind you, letting his hands graze your shoulders gently. He leaned down, his warm breath hugging the shell of your ear, whispering.

“I think you are…but you don’t want to be.”

You shivered, leaning into his touch. “I don’t.” You breathed.

“You want to be bad, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You gasped.

“Then be bad sweetheart.”

--

Aaron walked over to ensure the bullpen was clear. He then locked his office door and pulled the blinds closed. He returned to his seat behind his desk, sitting and then wiggling his finger at you, signaling for you to come to him.

You stood and tentatively made your way around his desk, stopping just short of being in front of him. He took your hand and gently pulled you to stand between his legs. His hands slid down your sides, stopping at the outer part of your knees, tapping softly.

You looked at him with confusion…unsure of what it was he was asking you. Your confusion was answered when you saw the look in his eyes. You slowly dropped to your knees, your palms resting on his thighs.

“God, you’re like a vision. So sweet, on your knees for me.” Aaron caressed your cheek.

You reached for his belt, pulling it open, while he let his hand tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. Your mouth fell open in a gasp, his pupils were blown, full of lust. He let his thumb slip into your mouth, groaning at the sight of you.

You continued to work his dress slacks open, desperately trying to free his cock now. You were more than ready to have him in your mouth…but your nerves began to creep in. Aaron, ever the profiler, knew immediately.

“You’re doing great baby. I’ll walk you through it, don’t worry.”

You wrapped your hand around him, your fingers just barely out of reach of your thumb. As if that wasn’t enough, his length was quite shocking as well. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to take all of him, but you wanted to try.

“What if I…I mean – I want to be good.” You stuttered. “For you.”

Aaron groaned “You’re going to be amazing, sweet girl. Just start slow, it’ll come naturally.”

So, you did. Hesitantly at first, taking just his tip in your mouth, then moving down little by little. And judging by the sounds Aaron was making, you knew you were doing okay. You continued bobbing your head up and down, hallowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the tip, letting Aaron’s grunts drive your movements.

--

Aaron gently pulls you off of him, helping you back to your feet before lifting you onto his desk.  He stood, invading your space, your gaze shifts upwards to meet his…you just knew you looked completely wrecked for him.

Aaron leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss. He nipped at your lower lip, eliciting a gasp from you. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek and the other sliding under your skirt.

It wasn’t until his fingers grazed the front of your panties that you whined, practically begging for him to do more.

“Please…”

“Please what?” He teased.

“Please sir. Touch me.” You huffed.

Aaron groaned at the name and allowed his fingers to move passed your panties, pressing them through your slick folds. Your hands moved behind you, palms down, holding yourself up. Your head fell back and before long, Aaron’s fingers were thrusting into you. He kept a steady pace, not wanting to work you up too much before he got the chance to fuck you.

“Ugh, God yes. I-it feels s-so good.” You moaned.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so good for me. Take it like a good girl.” He praised.

Your hips were chasing his every thrust, begging for your release. He pressed further, the heel of his palm adding a delicious pressure to your clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge.

“Please Aaron, I’m so close.” You begged.

“Not yet sweet girl, I want to feel you cum around my cock.” He nipped your earlobe.

--

Aaron pulled his fingers from your heat, taking a step back, he pulled you with him and spun you around, pressing your front into his desk. His hands slid under your skirt and pulled your panties down.

“Aaron…I-I’ve never done this before.”

“I know baby girl, it’s okay. I’m gonna take real good care of you.”

You arched back into his touch; your body was shaking with anticipation. Aaron leaned down and pressed a kiss to your shoulder before he nudged the head of his cock at your entrance.

“You ready for me honey?”

“God yes.”

With that, he pressed forward, fully sliding his cock into you. You cried out and he did his best to soothe you, wiping the tear from your cheek. His movement caused you to let out a sharp hiss.

“You alright sweetheart?”

You nodded, reaching behind you to grab at any part of him you could reach. He placed his hand into your grasp and held still, wanting to let you adjust to him properly. After a few moments, you pressed yourself back, testing the waters to see if the pain had subsided. Aaron quickly caught on to your motion and all hell broke loose.

--

Aaron’s hips snapped into yours over and over, he had your arms pinned behind you as he held you down against his desk for leverage. You were a mess beneath him, tears and mascara running down your face, your skirt bunched up around your waist, your hair fallen completely out of your neat hairstyle. Deep grunts and soft cries filled the room as you both neared your peak. He had you falling apart completely, surely ruining you for any other man.

“It’s like this pussy was made for me sweetheart; she’s gripping me so tight.”

“Oh my god Aaron, I-I think, I’m close.” You cried.

“That’s it honey, cum for me.”

Your orgasm took over as your entire body shook. Your screams could be heard all throughout the office. Aaron shifted his hands, so they gripped your shoulders, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing his end.

With a few final thrusts, Aaron let out a low growl, filling you with his hot seed. You could feel it dripping out of you with every lazy thrust. When he finally stilled, he leaned down over you, pressing kisses to your neck, whispering praise of how well you did for your first time and how he couldn’t wait to ruin you again and again.

--

Aaron slipped out of you with a hiss and tucked himself back into his slacks. He pulled you up and turned you around, helping you back into your panties and pressing his hand to your core.

“I want you to hold it in sweet girl. Because when I get you home, I’m gonna fuck it back into you.” He pressed his lips to yours once more.

You met him with the same amount of passion, only pulling away when he did.

“So…what does this mean?” Your glassy eyes met his.

“You’re mine baby. Forever.”

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[y3sterdaysproblem]

the catalyst - c.s.

this takes place prior to the two final screenshots in part ten

cw: (almost) cheating, suggestive implications, chris being an asshole

wc: 4k

part of the fwb!chris series

no doubt about it, you had to be drunk if you were going to this party.

normally you would pull up to parties with chris, have him pick you up or at least meet you there and wait outside until you showed up so you could walk in together, but now with him talking to this new girl (lia, you found out), you had to show up by yourself. it wasn’t a problem, you were pretty independent in your every day life, but something about showing up to a party by yourself felt embarrassing when it’s been so long since you’ve had to. despite your feelings, you didn’t want to appear too affected by chris’s new situation he had going on, so you were still going to go, just after pregaming a little harder than usual.

on the ride over there, you almost found yourself wanting to ask the driver to turn around and go back home, not wanting to stumble into somebody’s house an hour after everyone had already shown up and draw attention to yourself and your obvious loneliness. you talked yourself out of it, though, continuing on the short drive until you had pulled up to the typical hang out spot, thanking your driver and getting out.

the door was unlocked as usual, and you pushed it open and went inside as quietly as you could, doing your best to walk past people you didn’t really know to make your way to the kitchen to grab another drink. you were barely two seconds into pouring a mixer into a plastic cup when you feel somebody step up next to you, and you don’t have to tear your gaze away from what you’re doing to know who it is.

“when did you get here?” he questions, standing so close to you your arms are brushing together. you don’t answer him until your drink is made, bringing it up to your lips to take a sip. once it’s swallowed, you turn your body to face him, eyes landing on his that are already watching you. “a few minutes ago,” you answer. “why, were you waiting for me?”

chris rolls his eyes and reaches forward to grab your cup from your hand, bringing it up to his own lips for a taste. he hands it back to you, grimacing at the sweet flavor. “god, you make the worst drinks,” he scoffs. “and no, I wasn’t waiting for you, was just surprised that you came so late, that’s all.” you take the cup back and let your fingers brush over his at the transfer, body already thrumming from how close you were, the feeling of pure want intensified by the alcohol already in your system.

your eyes hide nothing, giving away just how badly you wanted chris in the moment. you thought you’d be able to keep it under control, but with him standing so close and looking so good, the scent of his cologne wafting through your nostrils and infiltrating your senses. maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drink so much before coming. “chris,” you say in a soft tone, one that always makes him melt, but tonight he just shakes his head at you and reaches up to place both hands on either one of your shoulders. “not tonight. please behave yourself tonight. I have lia here and I really don’t want to mess this up. I promise i’ll make it up to you,” he begs, and he really sounds like he means it.

you always hated not getting what you wanted.

“but, chris,” you pout, dropping your head down a bit to give your eyes a wider appearance, bringing your hand up to rest on his chest. you’re about to speak again when he grabs your hand and pulls it away from him, pushing it back towards you. “i’m serious,” he says lowly. “not tonight.”

you groan and narrow your eyes at chris frustratedly, annoyed at his determination. “fine,” you agree. you take your hand that he pushed away from you and reach between your bodies, cupping chris’s dick through the black jeans he wore, keeping your eyes lock on his. “just know i’ll be thinking about you all night and wishing you would have your way with me.”

chris sucked in a sharp breath at your touch, knowing he should pull away but not having the willpower to. one of his hands leans against the counter for support, the other itching to grab you and pull you closer. you can feel him twitching under your hand, a hint of an erection forming as you groped him. he was about to give into your touch, about to pull you somewhere more private, but an unfamiliar voice pulled you both from the moment. your pulled your hand away from him and tucked it into the back pocket of your jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, other hand bringing your cup up to your lips.

“here you are!” a girl’s voice calls from the doorway of the kitchen, stepping up to chris’s side with a wide grin on her face, oblivious to the tension in the room. chris slings an arm around her waist loosely, now refusing to make eye contact with you, afraid this girl would see right through him if he looked at you. “here I am,” he says with a forced smile, turning his head to face her. she turns and looks up at him, naive adoration painted on her features. “is this the friend you were telling me about?”

he told her about me? you think to yourself, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “yeah,” chris says, clearing his throat as he turned back to look at you. “this is lia, the girl i’ve been seeing,” he introduces awkwardly and you tilt your head at her, smiling sweetly. “lia,” you hum, nodding your head. her hand comes out to greet you and all you can do is stare down at it, judging the way her acrylics were grown out and an ugly color. “i’m gonna go find your brother,” you tell chris, looking back up at him with a smirk, sending him a knowing wink before turning on your heel and heading towards the living room, hearing chris apologizing for your attitude quietly.

you did exactly as you promised, finding matt sitting on the floor with his back leaned up against the front of a couch and his legs crossed in front of him, laughing at something a friend had said. “hi, matt,” you greet sweetly, sitting directly next to him. his attention is grabbed by you immediately, lifting his arm to drape it around your shoulder as he smiled over at you. “hi, pretty girl,” he replied.

you made conversation with him for a few minutes before chris and lia came into the room, him looking uncomfortable and her looking happy as ever. she couldn’t even pick up on his emotions yet and he was so willing to drop everything for her. how could he be so infatuated with a girl that was so fucking dumb she couldn’t tell when she broke up a moment filled with sexual tension?

there isn’t much time to dwell on her lack of social awareness before somebody grabs your attention again, sitting across from you and matt. “okay, are we playing truth or dare or spin the bottle?” he asks drunkenly. chris audibly groans, lowering himself to the floor in a makeshift circle, lia sitting so close she should’ve just sat on top of him. “can we not do some childish shit, please?” he asks, tone laced with annoyance.

“what, scared you’re gonna have to kiss somebody, chris?” matt teases from next to you and you’re unable to contain the small giggle that leaves your lips. “or are you scared i’m gonna kiss your girl?”

matt’s arm squeezes around you when he says this and it takes you a moment to realize he’s not talking about the girl tucked into chris’s side, but rather about you. “i’m not scared of shit, asshole, I just don’t think we should be playing some fucking little kid games.” chris shoots back with a dramatic eye roll. “it’ll be fun!” lia says enthusiastically, wrapping both hands around chris’s bicep and shaking him lightly. he looks over at her and sends a tight lipped smile her way, his hand gently rubbing over her arm. “alright, whatever,” he concedes.

that’s how you all ended up playing truth or dare, spinning a bottle to decide who goes first. after a few rounds of stupid dares and pussy cop outs with people choosing truth, it’s matt’s turn to ask somebody a question. his attention turns to you, and a lazy smirk finds its way onto his lips. “truth or dare,” he asks you quietly and you can’t help but feel nervous at his tone. “dare,” you say instantly.

matt shifts a bit next to you before looking around the room, eyes landing on his brother for a moment before flitting back to you. “I dare you to make out with me for at least a minute,” he says after a few moments of thought. you’re a bit shocked at this, but quickly snap out of it and swing your leg over his lap, sitting atop his thighs happily. matt’s grinning up at you like a sick freak and you feel clued in on his intentions with the way he stares at you, so to bounce off of his energy, you turn your head to chris who’s staring at the two of you with dark, intense eyes, clearly not a fan of what was going on. “hey, chris?” you ask sweetly, tilting your head a bit. “can you start a timer, please?”

chris narrows his eyes at you, not liking the game you decided to play with him. he already wasn’t a big fan of your relationship with matt, but having to sit here and witness it himself was another level of fucked up. after he doesn’t answer, refusing to take his eyes off of you, the stupid, clueless girl next to him whips out her phone. “i’ll do it!” she says with a smile, holding up the timer. you roll your eyes and turn back to face matt, resting your forearms on his shoulders. “she’s so fucking stupid,” you whisper so only he can hear and he laughs at your comment before reaching up to rest his hand on the back of your head, pulling you down to meet his lips.

you’re instantly melting into the kiss, lips slotting together effortlessly, the taste of alcohol and juice on both of your tongues mingling. matt’s touch was so much gentler than chris’s, the way his hands slid up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and the way he took his time kissing you instead of rushing through it. between the way he felt holding you against him and the liquor running through your veins, you felt yourself getting carried away in the kiss, hips subtly grinding down on him as your hands found themselves in his hair, holding him close to you as you made out.

“minute’s up,” chris informs you both, but matt’s hands move down from your waist to your ass, fingers digging into the denim covering your skin, willing you even closer. “hello?” chris says again, louder this time, infuriated at the way you both seemed to get more into it. it’s not fully surprising when chris’s hand lands on your shoulder and roughly pulls you away from matt, almost ripping you off his lap. “enough,” he snaps, hand instinctively moving towards your jaw to turn your head to face him. your eyebrows immediately furrow together at his rough touch, hand pulling away from matt to shove into chris’s chest roughly. “back the fuck up, chris.”

he surprisingly listens, not wanting to cause an unnecessary scene in front of everybody, including lia, sitting back in his original position next to her. she seems slightly unnerved at his reaction, waiting a few moments before she places her hand back on his arm. “are you okay?” lia questions in her soft voice and chris doesn’t even glance her way, eyes locked on you as you climb off of matt’s lap and settle next to him again. “he’s fine, he’s just a little possessive,” matt snarks, his arm coming back around your shoulder. “a little?” you scoff, eyes trailing over chris’s tense frame. “hey, matt, when do you think we should tell chris that I lied about hooking up with you to make him jealous?”

you wish you had a camera to record the way chris’s expression dropped, the way his jaw visibly tensed from his teeth clenching together, the way his chest expanded from the breath he pulled in. “what does she mean?” lia questions from next to chris, turning her body towards him. “nothing,” he immediately answers. “it’s my turn!” you say enthusiastically, clapping your hands together and letting them fall in your lap. “lia, truth or dare?” you ask her, sending a smile her way. she’s shifting uncomfortably at your words, turning her attention to you apprehensively. “um…” her eyes flit to chris’s face for a moment, but they look back at you when she realizes he’s still staring at you. “dare,” she finally answers, sitting up straighter. you can tell that she only picks dare to impress chris, but he’s focused on anything but her right now.

you hum and tap your index finger on your chin a few times as you think of what to say. “I dare you… to go through chris’s phone!” is what you land on, and chris immediately moves to stand up, brushing lia off of his arm. “can I talk to you?” he directs towards you, not waiting for an answer before he grabs you by your arm and lifts you off the ground, dragging you towards a bedroom down the hall. “you’re hurting me,” you tell him bluntly, trying to pull away, but he just tightens his fingers around you as he shoves you into a room and slams the door shut behind you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he sneers, finally releasing you. you huff and try to fix your clothes, glaring at the fuming man in front of you. “what are you talking about?” you ask him, raising your eyebrows at him. “i’m not doing this little back and forth. stop fucking with her. I mean it, dude, i’m not playing. don’t drag her into your mean girl bullshit. she’s too nice for you and your bitchy behavior.”

you scoff at his words, unable to believe he’s trying to defend this girl from you. “she’s fine,” you drawl, waving a hand at him dismissively. “god, chris, you’re so hot when you’re mad.” you take a small step closer to him, trying to close the distance between you two. “don’t,” he says sternly, bringing his hands up to stop you. you take another step closer, bringing your hands up to rest on his outstretched arms, dragging them up until they were placed on his shoulders. “don’t what?” you ask him, peering up at him through your lash extensions, eyes boring into him shamelessly. “don’t be slutty right now, i’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

you laugh and step even further until your chests are pressed together, bringing your arms up to wrap around him. you rested your chin on his sternum and gazed up at him, smiling at the way he stared across the room behind you, refusing to look down at you in fear of giving in. despite his unwillingness to look at you, his arms come up and wrap around your shoulders, a loud sigh escaping his nostrils. “look at me,” you say softly, squeezing your arms around him gently. you can feel his heart pounding from where you rested against him and you knew it was only a matter of time before he gave in.

when chris finally looked down and met your eyes, you felt the energy in the room shift. his expression softened as he inspected your face and the way that you looked back at him, like you were patiently waiting for him to crack and give you attention. “you’re incredibly rude,” is the first thing he says after locking eyes with you and you can’t help but grin at his statement. “you like how rude I am,” you retort.

chris rolls his eyes and looks past you for a moment before refocusing his gaze on you. “I tolerate how rude you are to me, not to girls I like. it’s not cute, it’s just pissing me off.” his tone is quiet, but you can tell he’s serious with the way he speaks. “i’m sorry,” you say honestly, pouring your bottom lip out subtly. “can I kiss it better?” he laughs at this and tightens his arms around your shoulders, shaking his head. “no, i’m not rewarding your awful behavior. go kiss matt about it,” he tells you, then pauses. “were you serious about what you said? that you lied about sleeping with him?”

you suck in a sharp breath at his words, feeling cornered despite you admitting exactly that only a few minutes prior. “I do think he’s hot,” you start. “but that was the first time we’ve ever kissed. he thinks you’re kind of an asshole when it comes to women so he wanted to see how mad you could get if we both made you believe we were fucking.”

chris purses his lips and nods, almost like he’s impressed by your scheme. “too bad you’re not important enough to make me jealous,” he teases and it makes you crack a smile. “sure, that’s why you ripped me off of him like that.”

“I was just playing by the rules,” chris defends, refusing to be pegged as the jealous type. “can you please just stop being weird and rude? i’m not asking for a lot.” you sigh and press your forehead into his chest for a couple of beats before looking back up at him, nodding your head. “yeah, alright,” you concede. “if you kiss me all nasty right now.”

“oh my god,” chris groans, but he couldn’t fight the closeness between you two any longer, bringing his hand up to the back of your head and leaning down to press his lips against yours roughly, both of your eyes fluttering shut as you made contact. your hands around him gripped at the back of his shirt to hold him closer as his tongue slipped into your mouth, a soft whine slipping out of your nose. the kiss only lasted maybe thirty seconds before he pulled away and stared down at you, soaking in your wide eyes and needy pout. “enough. let’s go.”

you nod and let go of him, but not before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on the skin of his neck, pulling away to smile up at him. “i’m right behind you,” you tell him and he steps away from you, not so subtly waistbanding his dick before opening the bedroom door and stepping out, making his way back into the living room.

you both take your respective places back next to lia and matt, looking as inconspicuous as you could after a slightly heated make-out that left you both craving more. matt sent you a knowing smirk, pulling you back into his side once you settled back down, and lia just smiled at chris, completely missing the way he used the collar of his shirt to wipe off his lips from where your lip gloss was smeared along them.

what she didn’t miss, noticing it only seconds later, was the tinged lip print pressed perfectly against his neck, right above his collarbone where you could reach. she stared at it for what seemed like forever, and your heart dropped when you saw what she saw. “fuck,” you breathe out, catching matt’s attention. he’s not even able to question you when he sees lia scooting away from chris, a hurt expression painted on her face.

“what is that?” she asks, voice strained as it comes out. chris is clueless, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “what is what?” he asks her, annoyance lacing his tone. lia only reaches up and touches his neck, dragging her finger through the sticky gloss on his skin before holding it up for him to see. you can tell he feels the same stomach-sinking dread when he notices what he’s being shown, mouth opening to speak, then closing again when he can’t think of a way to defend himself.

you’re scooting away from matt nervously, feeling like you were about to throw up, not because you were worried about this girl’s feelings, but because you were terrified of chris’s reaction. he practically begged you to behave, and you fucked up with a stupid fucking kiss. “oh my god,” you choke out, standing up from the floor. chris’s attention is drawn to you at your movement, pushing himself off the floor as well. “you are so fucking stupid,” he spits, pointing a finger at you accusingly. “I ask you to back the fuck off for one night! you can never fucking listen!”

you flinch at his words, taking a few steps back until you slam into the wall behind you, eyes welling with tears as he nears closer. “it was an accident,” you mumble, using the back of your hand to wipe the remaining lip gloss off of your lips haphazardly, even though it didn’t matter anymore. “you are such a fucking whore. always have to ruin everything, don’t you?” he’s in your face now, glaring down at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. “you kissed me, too, this isn’t my fault!” you yell back, voice pinched as you start to get worked up, heart pounding in your chest. “you don’t get to blame all your fuck ups on me!”

“chris,” matt warns from behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder cautiously, which chris instantly brushes off, eyes locked on you. “i’m sorry that nobody wants you, i’m sorry nobody wants to deal with how fucking exhausting you are, but that doesn’t mean you can go around and fuck with me and my life.” chris doesn’t even bat an eye at the tear that slips down your cheek or the way your lip wobbles, only rolling his eyes before turning around and walking back towards lia, helping her up off the floor.

you can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you watch him leave, unable to hear matt as he speaks to you, only focusing on chris as he guides his girlfriend-not-girlfriend out of the house, presumably to explain and try to put back the pieces of what little relationship they had. the second he’s out of your line of sight, you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, turning to look at matt. “can you take me home?” you ask him, and he instantly nods, guiding you towards the door.

the ride home is silent, and you feel like you’re on autopilot when you walk into your apartment and kick off your shoes, only letting yourself process what had happened when you were wrapped up in your blankets twenty minutes later. you tried calling chris, and all of your calls were instantly sent to voicemail.

that’s when you texted him, feeling a new sense of rage at his accusations through the messages he sent, deciding that this wasn’t all your fault and you weren’t the only bad guy here. chris made his bed, too, and you would make sure he suffered as he laid in it.

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @rafesapprentice @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbratt333 @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44 @colorthecosmos444

[covenofagatha]

Practice makes perfect

Agatha makes you build up your stamina until she actually lets you fuck her

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: g!p reader, virgin!reader, sex, age gap, fleshlight, degradation, humiliation kink, Agatha is MEAN and reader very much gets off on it, premature ejaculation, masturbation, reader is a walking HR violation, cumming in pants

When Agatha Harkness finds out you’re a virgin, she actually laughs. 

You’re a junior in college interning at your dad’s multi-billion dollar company over the summer, a nepo-baby at its finest, and so what if you have the hots for the general counsel? So what if you get hard every single time she even looks in your direction? 

You try to flirt with her, you’re as bold as you can be without her going straight to HR, and yet she barely even gives you the time of day. Deep down, you can tell she likes you though. She humors you and doesn’t tell you to shut up whenever you start to talk, so that must mean something. The two of you have formed quite the relationship since the summer started, with you saying the filthiest things to her and her brushing them off as if they were casual anecdotes. 

“I’d make you feel so good, Agatha,” you tell her one day. “I’ll fill you up so nicely.”

It might be pushing the limits — it’s your third pathetic attempt this day at getting her to reciprocate, but she’s used to it by now; it hardly even fazes her. Everyone in the office knows that their boss’s daughter has a cock, and they also know that their boss’s daughter has a filthy mouth, always saying something vulgar and sarcastic. No one takes anything that comes from your lips as serious. You’ve been called a spoiled, entitled, rich bitch, told that you’re heartless for not giving a damn about anything, expelled from three high schools for the explicit jokes that you make.

But your “jokes” to Agatha are the only thing you’re serious about. 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes; at twenty-five years your senior, she has had plenty of experience with girls that promise her the world and barely deliver on any said promises made. “I’m not some quick college lay that lets you rub my upper thigh and pretends that you’ve found my clit, you know.” 

It’s your turn to scowl. “Who do you think I am?” you ask and she fixes you with a pointed glare from behind her desk. “I know where the clit is.” 

“How many women have you actually satisfied?” she asks and your cheeks heat up. You figured it would come up eventually, but now you don’t actually want to answer. You duck your head and Agatha makes a noise, not exactly surprised, but almost disappointed. “You think I’m going to let a virgin fuck me? You probably wouldn’t even last two seconds inside me.”

“Hey, I’d last longer than that,” you snap, your head shooting back up to look at her incredulously. You can feel a slight stirring in your lower stomach at the thought of blowing your load the instant she gets inside you and how she would most definitely mock you for it. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow and chuckles cruelly. “Honey, please. Go back to your desk and get your work done. I’m definitely not having sex with someone who can’t finish reading over a simple contract.” 

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, and she makes a face at you before you get up out of the chair in front of her desk you were lounging in. “Might have to go to the bathroom real quick and jerk one off though.” 

She crinkles her nose and waves her hand at you dismissively and you think that you’ve just blown all your chances with her. She’s definitely not going to want to fuck you now. There is some speculation floating around about your lack of experience and that’s why you overcompensate with the explicit things you say — libel you tell them, but deep down it’s accurate — and if Agatha, who has certainly had her fair share of partners, knows it’s real, then she for sure won’t waste her time with you. 

So you go back to your desk and begrudgingly get all your work done, emailing Agatha your thoughts about the contracts when you’re all done. She sends back a Very good job, y/n and you hate to admit that it gets you hard. You’d like nothing more than to go fuck yourself in the restroom but you stay at your cubicle until Agatha walks by so you can see her before she leaves for the day. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you call after her as she breezes by your desk without saying a word. It’s the last day of the third fiscal quarter today, and as a reward, tomorrow your dad is bringing his executive staff to your beach house in The Hamptons for a week. Because you’re part of the family, you get to attend, but none of the other interns do. 

It’s been this way since you were little, but only recently did you start to notice how attractive Agatha was. The way she takes absolutely no shit from anyone, even from your dad. The way she coolly holds her ground in the face of IRS audits, FBI raids, and anything else that got thrown at her. The way she raises an eyebrow at you when you say something stupid and it makes your cock hard in seconds. Everything about her drives you fucking wild. 

Agatha lifts a hand up in response, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at you, and your pants tighten almost uncomfortably. 

The second you get back to your apartment, you undo your belt and unzip your pants, reaching inside to take out your hard and leaking cock. Your hips thrust forward at the warmth from your hand and you gasp, the pleasure already dizzying. You think about Agatha on her knees in front of you, looking up at you through her glasses, telling you that you’re just a pathetic slut who will never be able to make her feel good. 

It takes three strokes of your hand before you grunt and your cock pumps out three long spurts of cum all over the kitchen counter. You grab a paper towel, dampen it, and then wipe up your mess before going to take a shower. 

You might have a serious problem. 

And it’s only going to get worse this week. An entire seven days where you’re going to be around her. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’re going to be hard for most of it. Is there a record for the most times a person has cum in a day? Because you think you might break it. 

That night, you have a dream about Agatha, as many of your dreams are. She’s sitting in a chair right by the bed, legs outstretched and open and her feet are resting on the duvet. You’re laying stomach-down, cock hard between your body and the covers, mouth watering. Agatha is completely naked, her cunt glistening, and the dream is so realistic that you can smell her. She laughs when you groan pitifully. 

Then she buries two fingers inside her and your hips lurch against the bed, gasping at the stimulation on your cock. 

“Look at you, humping the bed like a bitch in heat,” she snarls and your rhythm stutters. You garble out something incoherently and she laughs before rubbing her clit with her other hand. “Can’t even fuck me right, so I have to do it myself.” 

You moan loudly, grinding against the bed furiously, and she picks up her thrusts to match your face. “I can, please, I want to,” you beg before she cums all over her fingers. She pulls them out of her and then slides them into your mouth and you cum all over the bed and your stomach. 

When you jerk awake right after that, the first thing you notice is how sticky you are. You must have cum in your underwear from just your dream and it’s just further evidence of how completely fucked you are for the next week. 

There will certainly be no swimming for you because you don’t need the entire executive board and your father knowing that you’re getting hard for the forty-six year old general counsel. 

But fuck, Agatha in a swim suit — 

You cut yourself off from the thought because you don’t have enough time to get worked up again. 

Good thing too, because by the time you do get yourself all cleaned up from your little nighttime accident, you have to leave to get to the helicopters. 

There’s no sign of Agatha yet so you make awkward small talk with Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, because you have nothing better to do. She’s new and attractive, but no one gets your cock stirring like Agatha. You wonder if it’s the fact that she’s older and it taps into your mommy issues, or the fact that she can cut you down with a simple sentence and you’ve found that you have a huge thing for degradation, or the fact that she’s never going to let you touch her no matter how hard you beg. 

She drives you crazy and you fucking need her. 

Finally, Agatha pulls up in a company car and gets out, wearing a gray pantsuit, and you already feel your face heating up. She gets into one of the two helicopters without even looking at you and you make a beeline for it before your dad stops you and pulls you into the other one. You can’t exactly tell him that you want to be next to his general counsel, so you grumble to yourself before agreeing. 

It takes only about forty-five minutes to get to the house and the next hour is full of unpacking and the wait staff running around, trying to get everyone everything they need. 

Lunch is served and everyone gathers in the dining room except for Agatha, so you excuse yourself and try to go find her. 

You’re just “happening” to be walking by her room when she opens the door to step out, almost bumping into you. 

“Your quick solo session take a bit too long?” you ask crassly, delighting in the way her eyes roll exasperatedly. “Next time, give me a call and I’ll get you there quickly.”

She starts walking to the dining room, leaving you behind so you have to speed to catch up. “If I ever want someone to cum after three pumps inside me and leave me even more unsatisfied than I was before, I’ll make sure to let you know.”

“Hey, I’d lay you badly, but I’d lay you gladly,” you say as seductively as possible and she snorts. “Come on, you gotta admit you’ve at least thought about it.” 

Agatha spares you a glance. “When I’m trying not to cum. It’s a real turn-off for me personally.”

You also love how she gives as good as she gets. “Please?” you ask, whine, beg. “I’ll be so good for you — I’ll make you feel so good.”

She sniffs and rakes her eyes over your body, pausing at the outline of your cock through your pants. Before you even realize what’s happening, she’s pushed you against the wall and her hand cups your cock and you gasp while bucking into her touch. 

“Really?” Agatha chuckles. You make a muffled sound and try to grind up and she rubs her palm against you, making you throb. “You think you could make me feel good with your cock that’s already about to cum for me?” 

“Yes,” you choke out and she squeezes harder. You’re panting open-mouthed now, trying so hard to hold back from your release. 

She is completely unaffected as she leans in to whisper, “You’re so fucking pathetic,” into your ear and you whimper, your stomach twists, and your cock pulses before pumping loads of cum into your pants. You chant swears under your breath while you cling to her arms for dear life and she watches amusedly as a stain spreads on your pants. 

You’ve never been more of a mess in your life and she just smirks smugly before giving your cock a patronizing pat. 

“I’ll tell your dad you’ll be a little late to lunch.” And then she walks away, leaving you completely agape against the wall, cock still twitching in your pants. 

It’s hard to make eye contact with her the rest of the day without heat flushing through your cheeks and the memory of what she did to you making your cock stir. 

The second you can escape after dinner, you do. You fully intend on spending the rest of the night fucking yourself silly and trying to rid your brain of Agatha.

But around ten, there’s a knock on your door and you swing it open to find Agatha standing there in silk, navy pajamas and black glasses. Your jaw drops open and she brushes right past you to walk into your room and tosses something on the bed. 

A fleshlight. 

“What—” you start to say, but you can’t even finish your question because all the blood in your brain has rushed down to your cock in record time. 

Agatha turns to face you, hands on her hips, lips pursed. “Show me that you can last five minutes with it—” nods at the toy, “—and we’ll see about me letting your cock anywhere close to me.” 

Your breaths come out staggered and you stumble over to the bed, head spinning. There’s no way this is actually happening. You shove down your sweatpants and boxers and your cock bobs up, rigid and hard and leaking copious amounts of precum. 

“God, already?” she snorts and your cock twitches. “You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you?” 

A muffled whimper escapes your lips and you give yourself a quick stroke. “Fuck.” You reach for the fleshlight, heat completely overwhelming your body, but she stops you first. 

“Spit on yourself,” she orders and you watch her with wide and pleading eyes as a strand of saliva drops from your mouth onto your cock. You feel like you’re in a trance as you spread it out along your length, the wetness of your spit and precum coating your cock and making it glisten in no time. “Fucking pathetic.” 

Her jeers only make you harder and this time, she doesn’t object when you grab the toy. You think you can hear her sharply inhale when you drag your cock against the fake pussy lips and you already know there’s no fucking way you’re going to last one minute, let alone five. 

“Wanna fuck you like this,” you babble before pushing your tip in and instantly freezing at the silicone ridges squeezing around you. You sigh heavily before your breathing quickens and you’re practically panting by the time you get your entire cock inside the fleshlight. 

Agatha’s face is unreadable. “I’m impressed you made it in,” she says, coldly and completely dry, and it makes you thrust into it. It feels so good, even though it’s just a cold, plastic toy and you can only imagine how the real thing would feel. “Well, get on with it. Chop chop, honey. I haven’t got all night to watch your sorry attempt at proving you can fuck me.” 

You grunt and start moving your cock in and out of the toy, whines falling out of you, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on not cumming too soon. You want to last — you need to last for her, because she might actually let you touch her if you. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts and your cock throbs. “Open your eyes.” 

You obey, and the moment you see her, see the slight redness of her cheeks, you know you fucked up. 

With a loud grunt, you cum in the toy, filling it with so much of your seed that it spills out of the fake cunt and drips onto the floor as you continue snapping your hips up. 

Agatha laughs and walks straight to the door. “Not even thirty seconds. Maybe next time.” 

You are absolutely fucked. 

The next night, you’re almost to two minutes while desperately trying to think of anything else other than Agatha standing right there. She’s watching intently, like she’s studying your technique and critiquing it in her head, and you’re doing really well — you think you might actually have a chance to get to five. The secret is thinking about all the boring contracts you had to read this summer to keep your mind off the overwhelming pleasure you’re getting from the toy.

But then Agatha steps closer to you, runs a finger over your lips and down to cup your breast, and says, “God, you really are just a baby, aren’t you?” so sickly sweet. 

It makes you curse before filling the toy up again, your body completely betraying you. 

“That wasn’t fucking fair,” you try to argue. 

She sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Oh, honey,” she coos and it’s so fucking condescending. Your cock twitches inside the toy. “It’s not my fault you’re so pathetic you can’t control yourself.”

“Yes, it is,” you whine and she rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe you should cum before I get here so you might have a chance at lasting for five minutes,” she taunts and you’re too embarrassed to tell her that you already got off before she came tonight. Clearly it did not work. 

You figure that maybe you just need to cum more throughout the day to build up some stamina. You fuck yourself with the fleshlight in the morning after you wake up with morning wood because surprise, surprise: you had another dream about Agatha. When she takes a sip of her orange juice at breakfast, eyes flicking up to meet yours as she sucks on the straw, you have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and it only takes you about six strokes before you’re cumming all over your hand. It’s a long day of lounging around the pool and hushed conversations, and the moment Agatha steps out onto the desk in a sensible one-piece, you have to wrap a towel around your waist so no one sees your erection through your swim trunks to run back to your room, hastily saying that you forgot sunscreen. You cum into the fleshlight in about three minutes. 

And about thirty minutes before she shows up to your room at 10 pm on the dot, you have another quick session with your hand. 

You are absolutely determined tonight. 

When she strolls in through the door, the air is different. She’s carrying a glass of Scotch and you snatch it as she walks past you, downing the rest in one sip. 

“Are you even old enough to drink?” she asks, eyebrow raised and giving you a once over. 

You laugh sarcastically before setting the cup down on the nightstand and tearing your shirt off over your head, not missing the way her gaze flicks down to your nipples. Usually, you just take your boxers off, but tonight, you want her to see all of you. 

“A little arrogant, hm?” 

Nodding your head, you spit onto your cock and stroke it to full hardness. This is also the first time you haven’t had a raging erection the second she arrived. Before she can say anything, you’ve grabbed the fleshlight and started thrusting your cock into it. It feels good, but you’ve become so desensitized to it, just from today, that you’re feeling more confident than ever. 

Agatha realizes this, sees it on your face. “Wow, look at my slut,” she croones. “She finally learned how to fuck herself. Doesn’t mean you can fuck someone else though. I bet the moment you get inside me, you’ll cum because you’re too fucking pathetic to actually make me feel good.” 

The degradation goes straight to your cock and you grunt, pausing for a second before resuming. The smirk on her face is as frustrating as it is hot and only makes it harder to think clearly. 

“You’re just a worthless little whore, aren’t you?” she snarls and your breaths become shallow and your thrusts become more like quick ruts into the toy. 

“Yes, fuck,” you moan quietly, tightly, and god she’s not playing fair at all. The toy is squeezing you so hard and it’s becoming tougher to keep fucking it, but the prize of getting to be inside Agatha is so close if you can just hang on. 

She scoffs sharply but you can see the heat on her face. Fuck. She likes this. “How are you not absolutely humiliated by yourself and how desperate you are?” she says, getting meaner, and precum is leaking out of the toy each time you drive your cock back into the toy. If you weren’t actively using all of your effort to keep from cumming, you think you would’ve filled up the fleshlight at least three times by now. Agatha is trying so hard to break you, but you refuse. 

The most excruciating five minutes of your life finally end, and you are so fucking triumphant. “We had a deal,” you remind her hoarsely. 

“Stop acting like lasting five minutes is an accomplishment,” she scorns and you have to pull the toy off your aching erection or you actually might cum. Your cock bobs up and down, trails of precum dripping onto the floor and down your length. You’ve made such a mess. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and your heart stops. 

You lay on the duvet, resting your back against the pillows, and watch with bated breath as Agatha slowly unbuttons her pajama shirt. You whine when you can see her tits, round and perky, and you need to get her rosy nipples in your mouth immediately. She takes off her shorts and you can’t help but hump the air, your cock engorged and neglected. 

“Please,” you sob. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She mockingly coos and then climbs onto the bed with her underwear still on, straddles your hips, and she slowly grinds against your cock. A loud, high-pitched keen tears itself out of your mouth and you buck up into her, but she tsks and hovers above you. “Patience, pet,” she says and there are literal tears in your eyes from how hard you are. 

Agatha reaches down and pulls her panties to the side and rubs her clit for a moment. 

“Can I—”

“—touch me? No. There’s no way you’d make it inside me then,” she sneers and you hate to admit that she’s right. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your cock jumping when she slides two fingers in herself. Your head is spinning, completely drunk with need for her. 

She takes pity on you and grabs your cock, angling it at her entrance. “It’s okay, honey. You’re just a little baby. My little, pathetic, desperate baby.” 

And then she slides down on your cock in one slick motion and your hands scramble to dig into the bedsheets and a loud, strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and you cum instantly, the feeling of her warm, wet walls around you too much to bear. 

To her credit, she doesn’t laugh as you rut into her frantically. She just waits for you to finally calm down before squeezing her cunt around you. It makes you gasp. “I knew you couldn’t last,” she says, slowly starting to bounce up and down your cock. 

“Too sensitive,” you whine and she clucks her tongue. 

“Well, you promised that you were going to fuck me, didn’t you?” 

Your cock has softened inside her, your cum starting to leak out of her pussy, and she collects it with her fingers and starts to rub her clit. Her walls spasm around you and you twitch. You nod your head and bite your lip — she is everything you’ve ever wanted. 

It takes a few minutes of Agatha clenching around you to bring you back to full hardness, a speedy recovery even by your standards, and she starts to ride you for real. 

“Good thing you’re the poster child for instant gratification,” she grunts, lifting herself up and then back down. There’s such a mess between the two of you that there’s squelching sounds each time she moves on you. You’re practically frozen beneath her and all you can do is watch as she fucks herself on you. “Just need to make you cum before actually being able to use you. I’ll train you so well, make you nothing into more than a cock for me to fuck.” 

You finally regain the ability to think and start desperately thrusting up into her, needing more than anything to make her moan, to make her cum. She’s riding you faster and harder and her chest is becoming flushed and you think she might actually be getting somewhere. 

But she squeezes around you again and fucking groans and you never stood a chance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck — Agatha, I’m gonna — fuck!” you cry and erupt inside her again, painting her walls white once again. You’re not even sure if you made it five minutes inside her. 

Agatha slows down on top of you and you wince at the overstimulation of her still wrapped around you. 

“Did you?” It’s a stupid question, one you already know the answer to, but you’re hoping that maybe you got it wrong. 

Her laugh tells you that you did not and she slides off you, your cock flopping against your stomach in a sticky puddle, and she grabs the edge of the blanket on your bed to wipe the globs of cum oozing out of her. Fuck. You’ll never be able to use that blanket without getting hard again and you know that you’ll be fucking the fabric every single day for the rest of your life. 

She flops down next to you and you wonder if it would be foolish to ask her to stay. “It’s not that easy to make me cum, pet. But don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[dollyfiles]

rafe cameron knows that it isn’t just LUST he feels for you

cw: mutual attraction, forbidden love, emotional betrayal, angst, inspired by the song “lust” by chase atlantic.. & for my sweet girl @vampteeths <33

the humid night air clung to like rafe a second skin as he leaned against the porch railing of tannyhill, eyes fixed on the distant shoreline. the party inside was roaring—a mix of drunken laughter, loud music, and the occasional sound of bottles clinking. his friends were there, drowning in excess, but rafe had slipped outside a while ago, needing to breathe.

the drugs numbed him most nights, but tonight, he felt restless. there was something clawing at his chest, something he couldn’t ignore. and then, as if the universe wanted to punish him, the person who haunted his thoughts, stepped outside.

you. he didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. he could always feel you before he saw you.

he had no idea when it started—this pull you had on him. maybe it was the night topper introduced you to the group, laughing and draping his arm over your shoulders like you were just another accessory. at first, rafe thought you were like every other girl that hung around—beautiful, fun, disposable.

but then you smiled at him, said his name like it mattered, like he mattered. and something inside him cracked. it wasn’t like the rush he got from a pill dissolving on his tongue or the high of a line burning through his veins. it was different. he didn’t crave you in a way he did with other girls. you were different. he just liked you.

and that terrified him.

“rafe,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the thick night air.

he didn’t dare to look at you right away. he couldn’t. he was afraid of what might show on his face if he did. instead, he focused on the waves crashing in the distance. “shouldn’t you be inside with top?” he asked, his tone carefully detached, though the words felt like poison in his mouth.

you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cool breeze. “just don’t feel like it.”

finally, he looked at you. your eyes met his, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. it always did when you looked at him like that, like you could see all the dark corners of his soul and weren’t afraid of them.

you were wearing one of those simple dresses you always seemed to favor, the kind that made you look effortlessly put together. your hair was loose, framing your face, and in the dim light of the porch, you looked almost ethereal.

“you’ve been quiet lately,” you said. your voice was gentle, but there was a weight to your words, like you knew he’d been spiraling. you stepped closer, and rafe’s entire body tensed. he wanted to tell you to stop, to go back inside, to leave him alone. but he didn’t. he never could with you.

rafe laughed, a bitter sound echoing across the porch. “quite’s not really my thing, is it?”

“not really.” you tilted your head, studying him in that way you always did, like you could see right through him. it daunted him, but it also made him feel seen in a way he never had before. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

he hated how much your words got to him. hated how much he wanted to believe them. “why are you here, y/n?” he asked, his voice low.

you hesitated, both of you knew it was risky. you knew it every time you caught each others gaze from across the room, every time your conversations stretched too long, your moments together lingering on the edge of something dangerous.

but then you stepped closer, so close that he could smell the faint hint of your sweet perfume. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “but i couldn’t stay in there. not with him. not tonight.”

your words hung in the air between the two of you, heavy with implication. rafe’s heart was pounding now, a hectic rhythm that matched the chaos in his head.

“this is wrong,” he said, but even as he said it, he didn’t move away. “i know,” you whispered, gaze dropping to the ground, and for a moment, you looked so vulnerable that it made his chest ache.

rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling just underneath the surface. “i’m not… i’m not good at this. at feeling things. at caring.”

you tilted your head, gaze soft but steady. “you care more than you let on, rafe. you just don’t want to admit it.”

your words settled over him like a weight, and for once, he didn’t push them away. because you were right. he did care. he cared too much, and it scared the hell out of him.

“do you know how messed up this is?” he said, his voice raw. “you’re with topper. he’s my friend. and you’re… you’re you.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“it means i shouldn’t feel this way,” he sighed, his voice breaking. “i shouldn’t look at you and feel like you’re the only thing keeping me from falling apart.”

you bit your lip, just standing there in silence while rafe watched you. he wanted you to say it, to acknowledge what you were both pretending wasn't happening. rafe wanted to reach for you, to pull you close and tell you that none of it mattered, that he’d walk away from everything if it meant he could keep this—keep you. but he couldn’t. because no matter how badly he wanted you, he knew he wasn’t allowed to have you.

“i don’t get it,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “why are you even here? why me?”

you inched forward, so much he could see the faint freckles on your skin, the curve of your lips. “because i see you, rafe,” you said simply. “and i think you’re worth seeing.”

something inside him shattered then. he’d spent so long chasing highs, trying to fill the void with pills and powders and girls who didn’t mean anything. but you didn’t have to do anything. just being near you was enough.

“I don’t even need… I mean, I don’t—” he stumbled over his words, unsure how to explain what he felt. your eyes softened, and for a moment, you looked like you might cry. but you didn’t. instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his cheek. it was the smallest touch, but it sent a shockwave through him.

rafe closed his eyes, simmering in your touch for a little while before softly grabbing your fragile wrist and putting it back, right next to your body. “you should go back inside,” he said finally, forcing the words out even though they felt like poison on his tongue.

you looked up at him, eyes shimmering with something he couldn’t quite name. for a moment, he thought you might argue, might tell him that you didn’t care about topper or the rules or how wrong it all was. but instead, you nodded.

“goodnight, rafe,” you said softly, your voice laced with a sadness that mirrored his own.

he watched you go, your figure disappearing into the glow of the party. and for the first time in a long time, rafe felt something other than numbness. it wasn’t comfort, exactly—it was too complicated, too messy for that—but it was something.

and as he stood there alone, staring out at the waves, he realized that you had become his new addiction. a dangerous one, maybe even more dangerous than the drugs. but unlike the pills and the powders, you made him feel alive.

tags: @vampteeths @rafesheaven @rafeysbangs @rafesbowbunny @rafesweetie @whinyangel @plaidcowboy @filthyrafe @figthoughts @littlelamy @fawnhart @rafesdollette @starzify @rafesangelita @cherrygirlfriend @ch6rm @inspiredangel @girlyrafe @rafespreciosa @gibson-g1rl @kissyrafe

[tryxyhijinks]

Pratchett had some words about this:

O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?

Pratchett: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.

O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.

P: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.

O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.

P: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus. Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.

Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.

(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.

my creative writing prof also HATES fantasy. as in if she asks for an example of symbolism in a book, and you give something from a fantasy novel, she’ll ask for an example from a “non-commercial book” instead.

I dunno man, people can have preferences, but the second you discount the artistic merit of sci fi and fantasy I stop taking your opinion seriously. and there’s such a big culture in Canada of only valuing literary fiction, to the point where one of our biggest authors, Margaret Atwood, refused for a while to classify her books as sci fi or fantasy. she said they were “speculative fiction”, which is entirely separate and very highbrow (sarcasm).

and I could go on about how Octavia Butler and Ursula Le Guin wrote books every bit as intellectual (and honestly, even more so) than their literary counterparts, but I am also an enjoyer of schlock!! I think there’s artistic merit in animorphs, and in isekais where a japanese schoolgirl reincarnates into a magical spider who has to level up like it’s a video game! it’s like with everything, you can’t draw a clean line that separates ‘art’ from ‘non-art’ or even ‘lesser art’, and pretending you can do so just makes you look ignorant and goofy. in my opinion.

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter six

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a love confession, a PR scandal, and an explanation (5.2k)

a/n: don’t hate me for this folks 😅 things are going to be fine with our favorite couple, don’t worry! (or are they??? guess you’ll just have to read and see mwahaha)

previous chapter | masterlist

Somehow Lando convinces you to stay the night with him after spending a little quiet time together at his place once the jet lands, instead of going home like you’d originally planned. You won’t go into detail, but it involved little talking and a lot more kissing. 

He lets you shower off the nightclub musk first, and only when you’ve made yourself comfy in his bed can you shoot a text to your friends. 

You: staying at lando’s tonight. no need to wait up for me, he’ll drop me off at ours in the morning

Samira: ouuu get it girl 

Maren: be safe wear protection etc etc 

You: GOD no not like that you perverts

Camille: sure 👍🏼

Camille: is he reading over your shoulder? WE’RE ONTO YOU NORRIS. 

You: i hate you guys ❤️

Maren: why are u still texting us go spend time with ur man 

“Everything good?” 

Lando’s toweling his hair dry as he walks into the room, wearing only a pair of shorts. He’s a bit sunburnt on his chest and shoulders from today, but he’s still got that aftersun glow about him as he makes his way over to you. He collapses dramatically beside you on the mattress, wasting no time in sprawling into your space with a content sigh. 

“Yep, fine. The girls say hi and goodnight,” You say airily, putting aside your phone. Lando lets out a noncommittal hum, too busy with making himself comfortable next to you to form a response. In the end, he finally settles with an arm thrown across your thighs, face pressed into your side snugly. 

Your fingers trace the dip of his spine gently, coming up to brush over his reddened skin. “You’re all burnt, Lando.”  

“Sun cream is for wimps,” He mumbles, words muffled. “I’m tough.” 

“You might rethink that when your skin starts to peel.” 

“Did you have fun?” He asks, changing the subject in favor of aiming a hopeful smile up at you. 

“I did. I still can’t believe you’re friends with Martin Garrix, though.” 

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re still hung up on that?” 

“Uh, yeah! Normal people usually don't know world famous musicians!” 

“Guess I’m not normal then, am I?” 

“No, you’re not,” You hum, pushing his damp curls away from his forehead. His face screws into an overdramatically offended look that makes you giggle. “You’re not normal, you’re better.” 

“Good save, that,” He mumbles, face morphing into what has to be the most fond, heart-melting, doe eyed expression you’ve ever been looked at with.

What you say next seems to fall out of your mouth before you realize just what you’re doing. All you know is he’s gazing at you like you’re holding up the moon and the stars, and suddenly it feels like exactly the moment to say what you’re thinking. 

“I think I’m in love with you too.” 

Funnily enough, Lando’s eyes widen the same way Max’s did when he’d accidentally told you. “What?”

“I love you too,” You say, though a little more unsure this time. There’s a key difference between your first and second confessions, but saying it out loud the first time only solidified what, deep down, you think you’ve already known. 

You love Lando. You’re in love with Lando, and you want him to know. 

Only now he’s staring at you like you’ve just told him some deep dark secret that he wasn’t supposed to know, which definitely isn’t the response you thought you’d get from him, and it makes your brain kick into overdrive. 

Max had seemed entirely genuine at the time, but maybe he was just messing with you. Maybe your entire relationship with Lando was some sort of a prank, or god forbid, a fucking bet. The thought had crossed your mind at the beginning, but you’d shoved it aside because Lando was so charming and so painfully your type that you were willing to take the leap. 

Less than two weeks. It took less than two weeks to fall in love with the boy in front of you, less than two weeks for you to put your heart into his hands and pray that he wouldn’t break it. The heart that he’d already wormed his way into and made his home.

It’s definitely fast, you’re fully aware of the fact. At the beginning, you weren’t expecting to get into anything serious. Telling yourself you’d let things play out, let whatever was to happen happen, prepared to leave any and all thoughts of Lando behind if things didn’t work out. 

You didn’t actually think you’d end up in love with him, and for some reason, it scares you more than you could’ve ever imagined. There’s something terrifying about falling in love, but something even worse than it was him not feeling the same. 

“How did you—” He stops mid-sentence, looking so utterly floored you’ve figured it out that you forget any and all previous doubts of Lando not sharing your feelings. “Have I been that obvious?” 

“Max let it slip.” 

He lets out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily before opening them again. “Max couldn’t keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it, the twat.”

“Y��know, he said the same thing,” You giggle quietly. 

“Because it’s true! His big mouth has been getting me into trouble since the day we met.” 

“Do you think falling in love with me is trouble?” 

“No! God, no, absolutely not,” Lando insists, shaking his head. In one fell swoop, he manages to shift the both of you so you’re on top of him now, sitting on his thighs with a leg on either side of him. His hands travel up from your waist to cup your face in his palms reassuringly. “The opposite, really. I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. I just…I wanted to tell you on my own terms. Had it all planned out too.” 

“Oh yeah?” You hum, hooking your fingers over his biceps. “What'd you have planned?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teases, grinning from ear to ear. You make a pleading noise from the back of your throat, but he just shakes his head, zipping his lips with an imaginary key and pretending to hold it high above his head. 

You play along, going to reach up for it, but Lando leans forward, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s a total distraction move, and it works. You forget all about what his plans could’ve been, the thoughts quelled by his mouth on yours, kissing you sweetly. 

Your hands slide over the broadness of his shoulders without thinking, fingertips pressing into lean muscle to keep yourself upright. 

“Ow, fuck—” He hisses, pulling away from you with a wince. Thinking you’ve hurt him, your eyes go wide. “Sunburn,” He explains hastily. 

You scramble off of him. “I am so sorry!”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine, let’s just—” He leans in for another kiss, but the moment is over now. 

You snuggle into his side, splaying a hand over his chest. Your fingers immediately go to toy with his necklace. “What will things be like when your break ends, when we have to go back to our separate lives?” 

If your question catches him off guard, he doesn’t show it. He just sighs like he’s been thinking about the same thing, rubbing a hand down your arm. “Honestly? I’m not sure. Tried not to think of it much, really.” 

“It’s coming soon.” Your voice is almost a whisper, like saying it as soft as you can would make the day you have to leave each other never come. “Too soon.”

“Too soon,” He echoes sadly. “Do you—I mean, would you want to go public?” 

The first answer that pops into your head is no. 

No, you don’t want to make your relationship known to the public. Lando is a celebrity, and within that territory comes many things you aren’t comfortable with sharing. And it might be selfish of you for the thought to even cross your mind, but part of you doesn’t want to share Lando with the world. 

You’ve gotten used to your peaceful little bubble the last few weeks, and once he returns to racing, that bubble will be popped. It might only be a matter of time before people start to figure things out, and you’re not ready for that. Until you part ways, you don’t even want to think about it. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Lando murmurs, drawing you out of your spiraling thoughts. His hand is on your face again, cradling your cheek tenderly, thumb rubbing over your cheek. “We’ll keep things under wraps. I’ve got no problems with that.” 

“You don’t?” 

“You sound surprised.” 

“I’m not,” You say immediately. You must not sound very convincing, because Lando tilts his head in question. “I mean—maybe I am? I just thought you’d want to, y’know, go out and stuff. Press events and races, like the other drivers’ partners.” 

“You’ve been looking?” He sighs, but not unkindly. More like an oh, I wish you hadn’t kind of way. 

“Yeah. A little.” You feel a little embarrassed admitting it, but you just wanted to know what might be expected of you as Lando’s girlfriend. 

In doing so, however, all you’ve done is hurt your own feelings. In your hours long deep dive about Formula 1 WAGs, as you’ve come to learn they’re called, there seem to be some commonalities.

They’re all brilliant, accomplished women. Some of them are models, some athletes, some businesswomen. Everything about them seems pristine and polished, always perfect. From their makeup, to their clothes, even their posture is perfect. You, on the other hand, you’re nothing like them. You’re not a model, you’re not as accomplished or as brilliant, and yeah, most of the time you slouch when you sit. 

You’re just…you. 

And for some reason, Lando likes you. Loves you. That should be enough for you, and you hate that it isn’t. 

You hate that at the very back of your brain, the thought that you’re not good enough for him digs its way into your self conscience, burrowing deep into the pit of your stomach. It has its claws in you, and it isn’t letting go any time soon. You’re not sure it ever will. 

“You’re spiraling again, baby,” Lando chides lightly, bringing you back to the present moment once more. You meet his gaze again, thinking you’ll find pity, but seeing nothing but adoration. He bumps your chin with his knuckles lightly. “I love you. Not who you think you should be.” 

Your heart swells so big you’re certain it might burst out of your chest. Lando knew exactly what you needed to hear in this moment of self doubt and didn’t hesitate to tell you. 

You smile at him, leaning forward to press your lips against his with all the love and affection you can muster, because words aren’t enough to explain just how lucky you are to have found someone like him. 

Lando sighs against your mouth, having no hesitation in swinging himself to hover over you. 

You let him nudge you back gently against the pillows, knees falling apart easily to accommodate the thigh he slots between them, and it has him pushing in even closer, chasing the breath right out of your chest with the way he’s kissing you. 

Safe to say, sleep does not take you until a long while later, not until you're both wearing a lot less clothes, tangled in each other’s embrace, fighting to keep your eyes open. Lando tells you he loves you one more time before you drift off for good, a whisper pressed against your temple in the darkened room. 

You’ll sleep well tonight with the ease of knowing that there is no question of how Lando feels about you, about your relationship. Everything is perfect. 

-------

“No, that’s bullshit. I’m not doing that. I don’t care if that’s what they want, I’m not doing it.” 

Lando’s hushed voice is what wakes you up, quiet but still sharp. Firm. 

Light from the bathroom pours in one beam through the cracked door on the other side of the room, piercing the darkness of early morning. You can see him pacing back and forth too, phone pressed to his ear, and it piques your concern. Whoever is on the other side of the line has obviously said something to get him heated. 

Work again, maybe? 

“Is everything okay?” You yawn, squinting at him through the sleep in your eyes as he shuffles back into the bedroom after the call ends.  

“Sorry for waking you,” He says stiffly. You pull yourself into an upright position.

“S’okay. What’s wrong?” Lando just tosses his phone into the mess of clothes in his bag on the chair. You’ll take that as a no, everything is not okay, and yes, something is wrong. “Lando.” 

He sits at the edge of the bed, facing away from you, elbows braced on his knees. You scoot towards him, smoothing a gentle hand over his back as your chin presses into his shoulder, his skin still warm under your fingers. You’re not sure what's wrong, but whatever it is, you’re there for him. 

“There’s pictures of us from the other night, at the club, and the beach. People took pictures of us together and now they’re all over social media.” 

Your heart sinks. “Oh. That’s not great, is it?” 

“No. Not really.” 

“Was that your PR officer calling?” You ask. Lando nods. “What did they say?” 

“Best to not go online today. And turn off your notifications too, because they’ll find you fast. Honestly, just turn off your phone.” He stands abruptly from the bed, away from you, pacing and muttering and raking his hands through his hair. You can almost see the cogs in his brain spinning from where you are.

This is foreign territory to you. You haven’t the slightest idea on how to deal with a situation like this one. You’re not even sure Lando fully does, given the way he’s acting right now. 

Still, it feels…violating. Having photos taken of you without your knowledge or consent, then having those photos spread around like they’re some sort of gossip. Even more so because you’ve felt safe around Lando up until this moment. 

Now he’s telling you to stay offline, to turn off your phone because strangers on the Internet will find you. You don’t even want to know what’ll happen when they do. 

“Will you slow down for a minute, please?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. He doesn’t answer, just continues in his back and forth actions. “Can we talk about this, or have you gotten everything about our relationship figured out on your own already?” 

It’s a bit petty, a little bratty of you. Of course he hasn’t gotten much of anything figured out—he’s only just been made aware of the situation that had likely progressed overnight. It isn’t something he should be having to deal with on his summer break, but he does. 

He stops in his tracks, stares at you blankly, and for a second, you think he’ll sit down and listen to you. But then he’s on the move again, rifling through his bag for something. “I think I should take you home.” 

You let out a sharp exhale, raising a skeptical brow. “Are you serious right now?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be? This isn’t a joke, this is my image we’re talking about.” He procures a wrinkled shirt from the depths of his bag, wasting no time in pulling it over his head. 

That leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re very aware that you have no idea what it’s like for him, no idea what it’s like to have your every move be so up for public speculation. That being said, you do know how a biting jab like that makes you feel. 

“Your image!” You chuckle wryly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, you’re right. You need to keep up your image, my bad.” 

There goes the tic in his jaw again. He’s still not making eye contact with you either, which irks you to no end. “Let me find my keys, I’ll drive you home.” 

“No, that’s okay. I’ll just take an Uber. Wouldn’t want to put your image at risk any more than I already have.” You throw the blankets off yourself, going to find your clothes yourself. 

Lando lets out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat. He’s probably just as ticked off as you are, but you're not really thinking of that right now. “C’mon, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll drive you home, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. He’s being all pissy like this and he still has the nerve to call you that. You fight to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname. You’re still getting used to it. Right now, you have a love hate relationship with it. 

“Fine.” 

That’s the last word said by either of you until you're almost back to your place. By this point, you've cooled down considerably. You’ve gathered your thoughts enough to realize you were being a little bitchy about the situation. He’s frustrated, you're frustrated, but it's not either of your faults. 

The car pulls to a stop and the doors unlock automatically, so technically you could just let yourself out without saying anything at all. You almost do, but you don't want to leave things the way they are with Lando right now. 

“I love you,” You say softly, carefully watching him for a reaction. 

The clench in his jaw softens almost imperceptibly, but the crease between his brows, the set of his shoulders, the laser focus he's got on something off in the distance, those still remain. 

It’s an entire world away from the way his face had lit up brighter than the sun when you said the exact same three words to him for the first time, just last night. “Text me when you get back so I know you're home safe?” 

“Yeah, sure.” His voice is clipped, void of any emotion. He doesn't want to talk. That you can see loud and clear. 

Still, you try again. “I’m sorry about the photos, Lan.” 

“Not your fault.” 

It’s not your fault either, you want to say. You want to look him in the eyes and tell him everything will be okay, that things will work out in the end. You don't—you can’t—because he’s angled himself away from you. 

Tears burn at the edges of your eyes and you think you can feel your heart crack a little bit, but you will yourself to get out of the car before he can see them fall. The last thing you need is to add to whatever is going on inside his head right now. 

Yeah, maybe you’d been a little combative with him at first, but at the end of everything, you love him now. You still want to figure things out together. But judging by the way he won’t even look you in the eye right now, it isn’t what he wants. 

How could you go from basking in the light of newfound love to barely being able to get a word out of him, with just one phone call? A phone call about you, your relationship with Lando, one where you don’t even know what was said. 

You hear him pull away as soon as you shut the door behind you. 

Is it bad that a small part of you is glad he waited for you to get inside? It means he still cares about you enough to make sure you’re in safely, even though he might be upset with you. 

Then you’re hit with the fact that he is upset with you, and that sliver of hope vanishes. 

You sink down onto the cold tile of the entryway, back against the door. Everything was so good and now it’s all going to shit, and you hate to think about how you’ve messed things up. 

“Tell us everything and don’t leave a single detail—” Maren’s gleeful shout dies in her throat the second she comes barreling around the corner and sees you on the floor with your head in your hands. 

She’s quick to call for the other two, rushing to your side in a second and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“I’m gonna kill him. Do I need to kill him?” Samira sounds beyond angry. You’ve only ever seen her this angry a few times, all of which you were glad to have never been the source of. 

Camille hushes Samira’s threats, kneeling by your other side. “What happened?” 

“Too much,” You mumble, half muffled by the sleeve of your jumper. Lando’s jumper. You want to rip it off and chuck it in the bin, but it’s the same one he’d been wearing the first night you spent together—soft and well loved, smelling like his cologne. Instead, your hands clench into fists around the worn cotton, squeezing the material tight between your fingers. 

You eventually find your way to the couch, where you remain until nightfall nears, a half empty bottle of wine sitting open on the coffee table in front of you while your comfort show plays quietly on the television. Realistically, you should be getting ready to go for a night out on the town, but you’re all in your pajamas, curled up against each other nicely. 

You’d managed to tell them what was going on through tears that had stopped a while ago, but the thought of Lando putting up walls to keep you out of the situation still burns bright in your mind. 

The doorbell rings suddenly and you wrinkle your nose, confused. 

Camille untangles herself from the pile, squeezing your hand gently. “I’ll get it! It’s probably our food.” You didn’t even know she’d ordered dinner, but you won't complain. All this wallowing in your hurt feelings has really spurred an appetite. 

But then Maren and Samira leave for the door too and you're alone on the couch, even more confused. 

“Don’t get mad at us, okay?” 

Your mouth pulls into a confused frown at your friends who’ve just reappeared, but then you see Lando step into the room. He looks disheveled and just like you were hoping he’s been feeling—guilty. 

Your eyes flick to the girls. You don’t feel betrayed, but rather the thought of them reaching out to Lando brings you a surge of love. 

They’ve always known what you need, even if you don’t know it yourself. 

“You two need to talk things out, so we’ll be in the kitchen. But if you make her cry again and I’ll kick your pretty rich boy ass, I swear to—” The rest of Samira’s threat is cut off by the other two pulling her out of sight. 

That just leaves you and Lando, staring at each other, expressions unreadable. He steps forward, hesitant feet bringing him to the edge of the couch, where he perches awkwardly. 

“Hey,” He says meekly, shoving his hands into the big pocket of his jumper. You can’t bring yourself to greet him back. “You weren’t answering any of my texts or calls.” 

He looks like he wants to reach out for you but refrains himself from doing so. You’re partly glad he does, because if he did, you’re not sure you could’ve stopped yourself from burying yourself in his arms. 

Instead, you stare at him blankly. “You told me to turn off my notifications.” 

Lando sucks in a breath through his teeth, head bobbing slightly. “I did say that, didn’t I?” 

“You shut me out, Lando. You wouldn’t even tell me what was happening,” You grit out. You’re hurt, to say the least. You hope he knows that. “Don’t you think I have the right to know what’s going on?” 

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry,” He insists, almost pleading. “I didn’t mean to shut down like that. I guess I’m just used to doing these kinds of things on my own, y’know? Usually when my name trends on social media, it’s something I’ve done. Something I’ve got to deal with the aftermath of. But now, this time…” 

“This time, there’s me,” You finish, frowning.

“Yeah. It isn’t just my life I have to think of, it’s yours too. Having your every move watched and judged by people who don’t know you is the last thing I want for you to have to go through. I can handle it because it comes with the job, but you shouldn’t have to. It isn’t fair to you.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“Isn’t it? We’re in this situation because of me. Because of who I am.” 

“You didn't ask for this. Like you said, it comes with the job, no matter what you do.”

“Yeah, but I—”

“Lando, I’m not mad that the photos got leaked, I was hurt because you just took me home and left me here without telling me what was going on,” You say. Your voice only wavers the tiniest bit, and you fight it even more. “It felt like you didn't want me to have any input on our relationship, and that's not what a relationship is supposed to be like. At least, not one that I want to be in. I would hope you’d feel the same way.” 

“I do. Baby, I do feel the same way. I love you, and I should’ve said it back in the car, I know. And I was angry this morning, but not at you, and I should’ve made that clear too. I was upset and I made some rash decisions, and I’m so sorry,” He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When he opens them again, there's pain swirling within them. “I just wanted something to be just mine for once. I wanted our relationship, I wanted you to be that something, because in my life, everything is public. Even if I’d rather it not be, somehow it always ends up out there for the whole world to see, and I don’t want that for us. I know you don’t want that. I don’t ever want you to feel like you're giving up anything to be with me. That being said, I understand if you want to call things off.” 

He doesn’t look at you when he says it, but the pure sense of defeat in his tone makes your guarded posture finally soften.

Despite how things were left this morning, the thought of calling things off with Lando had never even crossed your mind. The fact that he thinks it was enough to make you want to break up with him has every ounce of frustration you have towards him leaving your body. 

“I don’t,” You say firmly. His head flies up, gaze snapping to yours, a mixture of relief and confusion. “I don’t wanna break up, Lan.”

“Thank god, ‘cause I don’t either.” Finally, he reaches a hand out towards you, and you feel okay enough to crawl over and curl into his side. He immediately presses a smattering of kisses against the side of your head that makes your stomach feel all fuzzy again. “I hate that your privacy was stripped away so soon.” 

“Honestly? Part of me knew something like this might happen,” You admit, pulling his arm around you snugly. “I’ve made my peace with it.” 

“You have?” 

You shoot him a tiny frown paired with a sharp exhale. “Well, obviously it’s not great, but it was bound to happen at some point, right?” 

“So you’re cool with it?” 

“I’m not ready to make it publicly official, if that's what you're asking. But I’m…not as upset as I thought I’d be.” You shrug, humming thoughtfully. “Can I ask what your team said on the phone?” 

Lando lets a mirthless scoff escape from the back of his throat. It stings less now that you know he's not upset with you for asking about it. “They wanted me to say you were just some random girl. That you were a fan, or something, and that I didn’t know you.” 

“Well, that seems a little excessive.” 

“Yeah, I know, I said the same thing! Nobody with half a brain would believe it either. I mean, just look at us.” He digs his phone out of his pocket, scrolling around until he finds what he’s looking for and flipping it around for you to look at. 

Turns out you’d been right on the nose about someone recognizing Lando at the club. The photo is grainy and a little blurry, but you can tell it's him cozied up behind you even though his head is tipped down. There’s no mistaking that messy head of curls. 

Then there’s the one at the beach, of the two of you holding hands as you walk along the shore with your heels dangling from Lando’s fingers. There’s a video too—Lando brushing your hair away from your face before leaning in to kiss you gently. 

It’s still an invasion of privacy, definitely, but there's something romantic about it. Like, at least it's nothing bad. It’s just an outwards expression of your love. You might not be quite ready to share that love with the world just yet, but one day, you might.

“Y’know, if you ignore the whole gossip mill of it all, the pictures are actually kinda cute.” 

“Ha! You think so?” 

“Sure do. My boobs look great in the club one.”

Lando draws his lower lip between his teeth, shamelessly zooming in on the specific photo. “Mm, yeah they do, huh?” 

You scoff, digging your elbow into his stomach lightly. “Stop that!” 

“What? You said it, I’m just agreeing!” He protests, holding his hands up in surrender. Then he tilts his head hopefully. “We’re okay now? I’m forgiven for being a big stupid idiot?” He asks, tilting his head hopefully. You chuckle, nodding, and he beams. “Mint! Love you.” 

“I love you too, you big stupid idiot.” 

"Fuck, I love hearing you say that."

"What, big stupid idiot?" You tease, dodging the decorative pillow Lando swings your way.

"Funny. The first part, obviously. Say it again for me?"

"I love you, Lan," You say again, looking directly at him.

The giddy smile that curves his lips and makes his whole face brighten is worth everything to you. You'd tell Lando you love him every single day if it'd make him happy.

“Am I allowed to ask you all to come over? Max is fetching Pietra from the airport and she wants to meet you all so badly, I don’t think I’ll be allowed back in the house if I don’t bring you back with me,” He says, smile turning sheepish. “D’you think the girls are gonna try to kill me?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure? It’s a yes or no answer, baby.” 

“I’m ninety percent sure you’ll be fine.” 

“Ninety?” 

“Eighty five.” 

“That’s so much worse.” 

When you inevitably do make it back to Lando’s villa, Max and Pietra have just arrived home too, still outside as Lando pulls up right next to their car. 

Max folds you into a hug once you’re in range, pausing briefly to say quietly into your ear, “I knew you’d work things out. I’d have kicked his ass if he didn’t.”

You squeeze his shoulder gratefully, because you know he’d had something to do with getting Lando to make things right. 

Pietra and Lando bicker kind of like siblings, but even then you can tell they're close. He introduces her to all of you, and she instantly melds in so seamlessly with you and your girls it feels like you’ve been friends for ages, chattering away about what Max has told her about your adventures in Greece so far.

Finally, things really are all perfect in your little world. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new chapter :)

[dilfismz]

Hi! Can you write jealous professor dom!cho sangwoo x student sub!reader. Can you make sangwoo become real mad and some spanking too? Thank you so so much 🥹🥹

Mine

Summary: Turns out Professor Cho doesn’t like it when stupid young boys touch what’s his.

A/N: there are a few flashback scenes in order to build a backstory so don’t be confused!

Warnings: age gap, inappropriate teacher/student relationship, spanking, some degradation?, p in v, no prep (Sangwoo is desperate), dom/sub dynamics, and hair pulling.

In all honesty, you and Professor Cho had become close by complete accident. If you could even call it close…more so acquainted. You could recall every detail of your night spent together as if it had just occurred. Every single time you step foot into his lecture hall you can’t help but reminisce.

⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆

The bar was quiet that night, many students in their dorms studying for finals. Luckily for you, yours had concluded in one long, godforsaken day. It was tough but the reward was getting to celebrate the end of the semester early.

Sliding into a seat with your friend you spot him. He was seated a few spots down, leaning casually against the bar. He looked out of place in his crisp, tailored shirt and sharp jawline—older than most of the patrons and far more composed. His presence seemed to draw attention without trying, though he didn’t seem interested in anyone else around him.

You weren’t sure why you caught his eye, but you did. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he spoke, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

“Not a regular here, are you?”

You smiled faintly, shaking your head. “Does it show?”

“Just a little,” he said, taking a sip from his glass. “You seem…young for this crowd.”

The comment made your cheeks flush slightly, but you held his gaze. “Maybe. But you don’t exactly blend in yourself.”

He chuckled, low and warm, and moved to sit closer. “Fair enough. I’m Sangwoo.”

You gave your name, and from there, the conversation flowed with surprising ease. You told him about your studies, your aspirations, and the stress that had driven you here tonight. He listened intently, asking thoughtful questions that felt more probing than casual small talk.

“I have to say,” he murmured at one point, leaning in just slightly, “I don’t usually find myself talking like this with someone… your age.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. “Maybe age doesn’t matter as much as you think.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze flicking to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Maybe.”

The air between you shifted, heavy and undeniable. When he suggested leaving, you didn’t hesitate.

The night blurred into stolen kisses in the cab, whispered words, and the heat of his hands on your skin. You fell into his bed with reckless abandon, the difference in your years forgotten in the haze of passion.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, forcing your eyes open. The unfamiliar room was quiet, save for the soft sound of breathing beside you.

You turned your head to see Sangwoo lying on his back, his arm resting over his eyes. The sharp lines of his face were softened by the light, but there was a tension in his expression that hadn’t been there the night before.

“Good morning,” you said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

He let out a soft sigh, finally lowering his arm to look at you. His eyes were darker now, clouded with something that felt like regret.

“This… probably shouldn’t have happened,” he said, his voice low.

The words stung, even though you’d expected them. “Why not?”

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “You’re young. Too young to be tangled up with someone like me.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was a firmness to it that made your stomach twist.

You sat up too, pulling the sheet around you. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

“That was a mistake,” he said, glancing at you briefly before looking away. “I should’ve known better.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the warmth of the night before replaced with a cold, sinking feeling. You wanted to say something, to argue that you were old enough to make your own decisions, but the look on his face stopped you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, standing and reaching for his shirt. “You’re… incredible. But this can’t happen again.”

As he moved about the room, dressing and avoiding your gaze, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever been more than a fleeting distraction to him.

⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆

Another thing you always thought of when you’d step into Professor Cho’s room is the moment you’d realized just how disastrous your night together actually was.

The first day of the new semester carried the usual energy—a mix of fresh starts and quiet dread. Students milled into the lecture hall, some chatting excitedly, others scrolling through their phones or sipping lukewarm coffee. You were somewhere in the middle, adjusting the strap of your bag as you stepped into the massive room.

You hadn’t given much thought to your schedule beyond the requirements you needed to fill. This class—some upper-level finance course you had reluctantly signed up for—was just another stepping stone toward your degree. You were more concerned with surviving the workload than anything else.

That was, until you looked up.

Your heart nearly stopped.

There, standing at the podium, flipping through a stack of papers with an air of quiet authority, was him.

Cho Sangwoo.

Your throat went dry.

For a second, you thought you had to be mistaken. But there was no mistaking him—not the sharp jawline, not the dark, intelligent eyes that had lingered on you once in the glow of a streetlamp, not the hands you could still feel on your skin if you let your mind wander too far.

You froze mid-step, the chatter of the other students fading into white noise. The last time you’d seen him, he had been pulling his shirt over his head in a dimly lit bedroom, his words clipped, his expression guarded.

“This can’t happen again.”

And yet, here you were.

And here he was.

As if sensing your gaze, Sangwoo glanced up from his notes.

The reaction was instant.

His confident posture faltered, his fingers tightening slightly around the edges of his papers. His brows lifted just barely before his eyes widened in unmistakable shock. You saw the exact moment recognition hit him, watched the composed, professional mask he undoubtedly wore every day crack—just for a second.

A blush rose to his face.

It was slight, barely there, but enough for you to notice. Enough for you to know that despite his careful words that morning, despite whatever lines he had drawn in his mind between you, the sight of you standing in his lecture hall had caught him completely off guard.

The confident, articulate professor—who had surely done this a thousand times, who commanded rooms full of students without hesitation—had lost his composure.

Your stomach twisted.

For a fleeting moment, it felt like you were back in that dimly lit bar, your bodies too close, your words laced with the kind of reckless flirtation that had led to this. The memory burned through you so suddenly that you were sure it showed on your face.

But then, just as quickly as the moment had come, you watched him shove it back down.

Sangwoo cleared his throat sharply, turning his attention back to his papers. The color in his face faded as he schooled his expression into something unreadable, his professional demeanor snapping back into place like a steel trap.

But you had seen it.

You had felt it.

And now, you had to sit through an entire semester pretending it had never happened.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to move, slipping into a seat near the middle of the lecture hall. Around you, students continued their chatter, completely unaware of the silent war raging inside your head—or his.

Sangwoo took a breath, straightened his tie, and finally spoke. His voice was steady, controlled.

“Good morning. Welcome to Financial Strategies.”

If you hadn’t seen the way his hands curled slightly against the podium, you might have believed he was completely unaffected.

But you had seen it.

And you weren’t sure either of you would be able to ignore it.

That day, after class ended you sat frozen in your seat, your fingers gripping the edge of your desk as if that could steady the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

Sangwoo hadn’t looked at you once throughout the entire lecture.

Not directly, at least.

Instead, his eyes had skimmed over you like you were just another student, his voice measured, his posture rigid. But there were moments—fleeting, barely-there moments—where his fingers tensed slightly on the podium, where his breath hitched in the smallest, most imperceptible way before he forced himself forward.

And now, as you remained seated while the rest of the students shuffled out, he still wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Stay after,” he had said near the end of class, his voice neutral, yet somehow sharp.

You knew this conversation was coming. There was no avoiding it.

Sangwoo stood by his desk now, organizing papers that didn’t need organizing, straightening his laptop screen only to close it again. It was almost frustrating—watching him fidget with anything but you.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose, as if bracing himself.

“If you wish to remain in this class,” he started, his voice clipped, “you will forget about what happened between us.”

You swallowed, gripping your bag strap tightly, but said nothing.

He continued, his expression carefully blank, though you could see the tension in his jaw. “It was… inappropriate. A mistake.” His fingers curled around the edge of his desk, the only sign that his control wasn’t as steady as he wanted it to be. “And it cannot affect your education.”

Your throat felt tight.

He was speaking to you as though that night had been some careless accident, as though it hadn’t been charged with something real. And yet, even as he spoke, his voice was too deliberate, too forced, like he was convincing himself as much as he was convincing you.

But you didn’t miss the way his fingers twitched slightly against the desk.

Your gaze dropped to his hands—the same slender hands that had once roamed your body, tracing paths of fire along your skin.

You could still feel them if you thought about it long enough. The way they had tangled in your hair, how his fingertips had brushed over your bare waist with aching slowness, how they had tightened possessively around your wrist just before he kissed you—

“Are you listening?”

Your head snapped up.

Sangwoo was watching you now, his brow furrowed slightly, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

You nodded, trying to ignore the heat rising in your face.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before crossing his arms. “Good,” he muttered. “Because I can’t have distractions in my classroom. Whatever… that was, it’s over. Understood?”

His words were cruelly impersonal, but his body language betrayed him. The stiffness of his shoulders, the way he seemed almost restless standing still, as if part of him wanted to move, to do something else.

You wondered if he was remembering it, too.

The weight of him pressing you into the mattress. The way he had looked at you, his usual self-control slipping with every kiss, every touch.

You sat up a little straighter, ignoring the pang in your chest. “Understood,” you said quietly, though the words felt like a lie.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

His fingers tapped once against the desk. Then again.

Then, as if snapping himself out of something, he turned away, collecting his things with more force than necessary. “You’re dismissed,” he said, not looking at you.

You hesitated.

But there was nothing left to say.

So you grabbed your bag and walked toward the door, feeling his eyes on your back even though he had told himself not to look.

————-

Now here you are today and you have done exactly what Sangwoo asked.

For months, you kept your distance, pretending as though nothing had ever happened between you. No lingering glances, no hesitation when he called on you in class, no trace of the night you had spent tangled in his sheets. You became cold, detached—indifferent.

And it was driving him insane.

At first, he convinced himself that this was what he wanted. That this was the right thing.

But then Jisoo happened.

A boy your age. Bright-eyed, eager, always quick with a joke that made you laugh—actually laugh. You had never laughed like that in his class before. Not when you were with him.

Sangwoo ignored it at first.

But then it happened again.

And again.

Soft whispers shared between the two of you, your heads leaning close as if nothing else in the room existed. His blood simmered every time Jisoo touched your arm, every time he caught you smiling at him—every time he saw you looking at Jisoo the way you used to look at him.

But today was the worst of it.

Today, Jisoo had whispered something in your ear, and your face had gone warm—cheeks flushed, lips parting just slightly in surprise before you giggled.

Sangwoo gripped his pen so hard it nearly snapped.

The moment class ended, his voice cut through the murmurs of students packing up their things.

“Stay after.”

Jisoo glanced at you, curious. You barely reacted, nodding as you finished gathering your notes.

The last student filtered out.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Sangwoo remained standing at the front of the classroom, bracing his hands against the desk, his head tilted downward. You could see the tension in him—the way his fingers curled, the way his breaths left him in slow, controlled exhales.

You knew this was coming.

You waited.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Tell me,” his voice was low, measured. “Do you plan to seduce him the way you seduced me?”

Your heart stuttered.

The accusation hung heavy between you, thickening the air, making it harder to breathe.

“What?”

Sangwoo lifted his gaze, and for the first time in months, his carefully constructed mask had cracked.

No indifference. No feigned professionalism. Only raw frustration—barely-restrained jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

He took a step forward, slow and deliberate.

“You heard me,” he murmured, his voice dark. “Is that your plan? To make him desperate for you? To make him think, even for a second, that he can satisfy you the way I did?”

Heat pooled in your stomach, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “That’s not—”

He scoffed. “Not what?” Another step forward. “Not true? You don’t think I see the way he looks at you? The way you let him lean into you, whisper in your ear?”

His jaw clenched.

“Do you think he can touch you like I did?” His voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. “Think he can even attempt to please you?”

Your breath hitched.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, knuckles whitening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you forced out.

His lips quirked up—not in amusement, but something far crueler.

“Liar.”

Your stomach flipped.

You hated how easily he unraveled you.

Sangwoo exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t care,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “I told myself I wouldn’t.”

You swallowed hard.

“But then I see you with him,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I see you laughing, smiling, and I—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply as if disgusted by the confession sitting on his tongue.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

“You’ve been punishing me,” he murmured. “All these months, Ive been trying to forget, trying to pretend it never happened—but it did. And here you are pulling this shit right in front of me.”

His fingers twitched.

“And it still matters to you…”, you intended to ask but it came out more like a statement.

Sangwoo inhaled sharply, and before you could react, his hand shot out—grasping your wrist.

Your breath caught.

His fingers, long and slender, wrapped around your skin. Not tight. Not pulling. Just holding.

A mistake.

A reckless, dangerous mistake.

But neither of you moved to stop it.

“You don’t get it,” he murmured, his voice lower, almost pained. “I broke the rules for you once.”

Your throat went dry.

His fingers slid down, tracing your palm before hesitantly releasing you.

Then, barely above a whisper—so quiet you almost missed it—he admitted:

“I think I’d break them again.”

Your stomach clenched.

Sangwoo exhaled slowly, looking at you as if he were already regretting saying it out loud. But it was there now. It couldn’t be unsaid.

For the first time in months, he wasn’t telling you to forget.

He wasn’t telling you to leave.

Instead, his voice was quiet. Measured. Unsteady.

“Stay, it’s your turn to be punished.”

You take a tentative step in his direction, testing the waters. Sangwoo blinks slowly, looking you up and down, “You stay there”, he commands while walking to the lecture hall door. He locks it with a flick of his wrist and returns.

He sits on his chair behind the large desk he often spends hours sitting at. He spreads his thighs, patting them expectantly.

You take this as a sign to straddle him but he immediately grunts in dissatisfaction. “No, bend over my knees, face down ass up”.

You flush at the command, all self respect fleeing your body as you comply without a second thought.

Tch tch

He clicks his tongue mockingly, all while lifting your skirt up to expose your plump ass, barely covered by a tiny thong.

“Now did you wear this for me or him”, Sangwoo asks, a scowl etched onto his features.

“You Sangwoo, always for you-”, before you could finish your sentence a loud smack echoes throughout the lecture room. Before you can even register the pain another red hot slap lands on your bottom, leaving you breathless.

“It’s sir”, he commands, a shit eating grin already overtaking his features.

“Y-yes sir”, you respond.

“Good fucking slut, finally you do something right. Maybe I should’ve done this right away, then we never would have had that silly little problem huh?”

You simply nod, his words going in one ear and out the other. Sangwoo pulls your hair harshly, forcing your head back to look at him.

“Speak when you’re spoken to”, he commands, his other hand landing another firm slap to your stinging ass.

“Yes sir-“, you moan as he kneeds the sensitive flesh, “-wish you would’ve done this sooner.”

He nods in approval, forcing you off of his legs and pushing you against his desk.

You can hear him unbuckle his belt and all but shake with anticipation. You’ve waited oh so long to feel him again.

Suddenly his swollen tip is prodding at your entrance, your thong pulled to the side. Sangwoo lets out a heavy sigh and declares, “I’ve waited way too damn long to do this again…now tell me have you been whoring around campus or is the last time your pussy got stretched with me?”

“Y-you sir, haven’t done anything since that night”, you splutter out, backing up into him, hoping he’ll just push in already.

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear”, he says right before completely bottoming out in one harsh thrust.

Sangwoo doesn’t start out gentle, he keeps thrusting into you slowly but oh so roughly. You swear you can feel him reaching spots even he didn’t hit last time.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as his hands grip your hips with a bruising force. He scoffs at your desperate mewls, “I won’t last long sweetheart so you’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful, ya?”

“Yes sir”

Sangwoo can feel his glasses slipping down his nose as his pace quickens. The entire room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and its filthy.

“Please don’t stop sir I’m close”, you beg as you feel that all too familiar feeling within you.

He doesn’t stop. His hands gripping you even tighter as he grits his teeth, cock twitching as your gummy walls suck him in.

“Fuck, it’s like this pussy was made for me, can’t believe I stayed away for so long”, he gasps out.

That’s all the praise you needed to reach your peak. Your walls spasm around Sangwoo and he continues his assault on your insides, coming to an abrupt stop as you feel his warm seed fill you up.

The both of you are a panting mess and he runs his hands through his own hair, pushing him glasses back up his nose.

When Sangwoo finally pulls out he sighs and looks at your pathetic form in front of him.

“Clean yourself up and we’ll have a serious conversation about how this arrangement is gonna work.”

[sim0nril3y]

Oml I love your weighting style so much!!!!!

I have no idea if you’ve already done something’s like this but I think a cute little fluffy moment where reader is at the shop and one of Simon’s men run into her, they don’t know she’s daiting Simon and start flirting but soon realizes she’s Simon’s gf when he like calls or something!

Feel free not to do it but just putting it out there ❤️💗

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Note: This was such a fun request, thank you so much for requesting it! Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), canon-typical swearing.

Your eyes lingered on the wall of spices and ingredients before you. Now, what was it that Simon had said to get? Was it ground cardamom or cardamom pods? Bugger, why hadn’t you been listening? Maybe it was because you were thoroughly distracted because Simon had just gotten out of the shower, standing there in all his nude glory, water trickling down his big burlychest…

Concentrate.

Now, he had said… oh, which one was it? Think. Think… think about his strong chest and broad shoulders… his tummy and that wonderful happy trail… the way his hair was all ruffled and wet. Fuck, you were so damn lucky-

“Is there a reason that you’re looking at that spice rack like you’re about to tackle it to the ground?” A charming tone came from beside you, glancing over to see a young man standing with basket in hand, handsome smile on his face, eyes filled with humour. “Do you find spices that offensive?” He quizzed.

“What? Oh, no…” A laugh sprung from your lips then, shaking your head. This man was unreasonably pretty, tall and an intense but welcoming gaze. “No, no… I’m just trying to remember what I need…” Then your eyes wandered back to that wall of spices again.

The man hummed and then said. “Ah, so you didn’t write it down?” He quizzed, stepping forward to be beside you. “Now, that is a problem cause… I mean, there are quite a few aren’t there…” The heavy dose of sarcasm to his tone made a laugh spring from your lips. “Luckily for you I am an absolute genius when it comes to spices, so I can help you out.” The way he grinned was bordering on cocky.

“Oh, my hero~” You replied back resisting the urge to roll your eyes, but he simply chuckled and returned back. “Well, some people call me that, but you call me-”

A curt tone came from behind you. “Private Stone.” You saw the fear that shocked through him then, clearly recognising the sound of Simon’s voice with far less affection that you did. “Lt. Riley.” He hiccupped back, standing a little straighter, face far less charmingly smiley now.

Just as Simon moved to be standing by your side his arm wrapped around your waist and the message was very clear to the young man. “I’m surprise to see you swanning around off base when you have you re-test tomorrow morning. I would have thought passing that might be more crucial than chatting up birds at the supermarket.” He watched the way the Private shook his head all too quickly and held up a firm hand in his direction. “I don’t want to hear it. You better make yourself scarce.”

It was only a moment later that the Private went rushing off down the aisle away from the two of them and Simon chuckled to himself as he stepped forward to pick up the cardamom pops from the row of spices, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?” “You had far too much fun with that.” You smirked back to him.

“Maybe.” Simon answered, stepping over to wrapped his strong arms around you, forcing his hand into the back of your jean pocket and squeezing in a tender way. “I know a way we can have more fun. C’mon, we should get home.”

Masterlist | Ask | 30-01-2025

[wcnderlnds]

bae bae | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: after a night out at club pentagon you end up in bed with your friend who has zero shame ・❥・word count: 1.6k ・❥・warnings: 18+. mdni. oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, thanos is rough. swearing. mentions of drugs, female reader. ・❥・ authors note: ... this is pure filth, im so sorry. also this is pre-squid game <3 i also havent added my taglist in case people dont want to be tagged in smut but if you do let me know!!

The whole night had been a blur. How you’d ended up back in your own bed you had no idea but thankfully you’d made it home safe. The music from Club Pentagon still echoed through your ears like an anthem constantly playing in your head. You opened your eyes, your hands coming up to rub them with the palm of your hands. What time was it? You leaned over, grabbing your phone off the bedside table to see it was 3am. With a groan, you buried your head back into the safety of your pillow making a mental note to yourself to never drink so much again. All you could remember was that it had been a rough day, so bad that your friend Su-bong had decided a night out at his favourite club was the perfect remedy. So much for listening to him. That was on you, really. None of his ideas were ever good. They mostly consisted of drowning feelings in alcohol or taking one of his colourful little pills to forget what was going on.

As your thoughts drifted to him, a quiet groan filled the room causing you to perk up. It was coming from next to you so you just had to assume it was Thanos making noises in his sleep. He did that often – his nightmares coming frequently. If he was next to you that meant he had been the one to bring you home. A big thank you was in order for him in the morning when you could handle being awake. If your pounding head was anything to go by, you were going to have one hell of a hangover. Your eyes closed once again as you tried to drift back off to sleep. Just as you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard a grunt.

Okay, what was going on here?

You turned around, sitting up slightly as you took in the scene before you. Yeah, there Thanos was. Everything seemed normal until you saw his chest rising and falling rapidly, movement under the blankets catching your eye. Your brows furrowed. This man wasn’t doing what you thought he was doing in your bed, was he? Only one way to find out.

Maybe it was your hungover mind but the thought of what you might find excited you. The way he was biting his lower lip to keep quiet only fueling your intrusive thoughts. Your fingers grasped the blanket, pulling it off. Well, you were right.

There he was, hand wrapped around his cock as he jerked himself off. Your eyes fixated on his hand that began speeding up, his hips bucking off the bed for more friction. Oh, he was really into this. How had he not realised you’d caught him? Part of you wanted to watch him finish, the throbbing between your legs thinking for you more than your brain. You hadn’t even realised how into this you were until you caught yourself slipping. There had been moments in the past where the two of you had almost hooked up but it had never gone past making out. Something always got in the way whether it was his friend Nam-gyu interrupting or his need to take another pill – it never led anywhere.

You cleared your throat deciding it was better to let him know you’d caught him than let him carry on. His eyes flew open, his hand still as he looked at you. He wasn’t embarrassed – you were certain he didn’t even know that emotion. He just looked at you expectantly, pushing himself to sit up slightly, his erection still standing for the world to see. 

“What?” He asked unbothered, annoyed even that you’d stopped him.

“I just caught you jerking yourself off and you don’t care?” You blinked at him. This was Thanos, of course he didn’t care. He had no shame.

“Why the fuck would I? Now, you gonna let me finish or help me out here.” He gestured towards his cock, his hand slowly stroking himself again.

As you watched, you couldn’t help but be transfixed. He knew what he was doing and it was working. The cogs in your brain were working overtime as you fought with helping him or ignoring him and letting take care of himself. He could see it, the smirk on his face making him look even more attractive. ‘Fuck it’, you thought. 

“Fine, you’ll owe me one, though.”

“No problem, Senorita. Now get those pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

You didn’t have time to react before his hand came up to your head, pushing you down towards his hardened length. Your tongue darted out, teasing the head but he wasn’t having it. He was too horny for teasing. He needed to have his cock stuffed down your throat or he was going to go insane. So, without warning, he pushed your head down onto him. It took you by surprise, almost choking but you steadied yourself, hands gripping his hips as you finally found a rhythm. Your lips moved up and down his length, tongue flattening out against the underside of his cock.

“Mhmm, just like that, pretty girl,” he rasped in that deep voice of his, his fingers tangling in your hair pushing you down onto him. You felt him hit the back of your throat almost gagging on him before he pulled you back up. “You’re doing so good.”

The praise was turning you on more than you’d like to admit. Your lips wrapped around him again, taking him as deep as you could without choking but it wasn’t enough. His hips bucked up into your mouth, his hand firmly tangled in your hair. You decided to give up and let him have his way. He felt your mouth slacken, the feral grin on his face letting you know he was more than willing to fuck your mouth stupid.

His grunts and groans filled the room as he thrust up into your mouth at a rapid pace. You could feel his cock twitching each time he hit the back of your throat. Tears sprang at the corner of your eyes as you gagged on him, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

Just as you were sure he was about to finish, he yanked your head off him, pushing you back down onto the bed. In a frenzy, he pushed the skirt up you were wearing, pulling your panties to the side. He slid his index finger along your pussy, almost groaning at how wet you were when he hadn’t even done anything. You were so damn desperate, he loved every second of it. “Wanna come inside this sweet, little pussy. You gonna let me, baby?”

He dragged his cock along your folds coating himself in your slickness and that was game over for you. Frantically, you nodded your head. That was all he needed. He pushed himself inside you in one deep thrust. The loud moan you let out surprised you, Thanos’s eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of finally being inside you after all this time. No interruptions, no need for a high. This was the only high he needed. He’d been missing out. He pushed your legs up and over his shoulders, pulling his cock almost all the way out and thrusting inside once again. His pace was anything but gentle, the tight grip he had on your hips sure to leave bruises. Your hands gripped the bedsheets below you as he pounded into you. There was no way you were going to last long if he kept this up but then again neither was he. You could tell with the way his eyebrows scrunched up that he was holding back. At least he wasn’t selfish in the bedroom.

“Su-bong,” you moaned, back arching as you felt your orgasm fast approaching. The moaning of his name was almost his undoing.

“Yeah? You like that, huh? Like being fucked stupid by your best friend?” He panted, the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoing off the walls of the small room. The bed occasionally banging against the wall with the intensity of his thrusts. Your neighbours were definitely going to have something to say about it in the morning. “Come for me. Wanna feel you squeezin’ the life outta me.”

One particular hard thrust and that was it. A loud, almost pornographic moan fell from your lips as you saw stars. Your fingers pulled at the sheets, legs quivering as your orgasm washed over you. Thanos didn’t let up his pace, his eyes drawn to where your bodies were joined as he fucked into you. The feeling of your walls squeezing around his cock bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck, fuck. Gonna come. Gonna fill you up real good.”

It took one, two more thrusts when he stilled inside you, his cock twitching as he came harder than he had in his life. He was sure he saw the whole damn universe, throwing his head back as he groaned. His hips shallowly thrust into you, pulling out once he’d finished. Did he clean you up? Nah. He flopped back down next to you, grabbing his vape off the bedside.

“We should’ve done that a long time ago,” he chuckled, taking a puff. He handed it over to you, his lazy eyes meeting yours. “Do I still owe you one?”

You took a hit of the vape, nodding your head as you passed it back to him. “Oh, hell yeah you do. Not getting out of it that easily.”

“Was hoping you’d say that,” he winked at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you into his side. It wasn’t cuddling but it was something to show you his appreciation. Better than nothing.

[monster-effer]

Oh okk my wifi been acting up lately💀 I requested hcs with all the l&ds men about how'd they react to finding out reader can secretly pole dance, sfw and nsfw hcs if you do nsfw please! Thank you!!💕

This was a really fun concept to write about!!

It seems I am incapable of describing things concisely because this turned out much longer than I expected LMAO, I hope you enjoy 💗💗💗

Sylus

Funnily enough, this starts from a game of tipsy Truth of Dare with Luke and Kieran. You chose truth and they asked you to tell them one unknown fact about yourself. You are a certified yapper when you’re tipsy so you blabbed about your pole dancing hobby then passed out and forgot about your confession.

Of course this info made its way back to Sylus (most likely that same night). And he was intrigued. He would tease you while asking why you’ve been keeping such an interesting hobby from him.

The very next day he would have a pole installed in one of the spare rooms of his home base.

The room would be decorated with in dark, seductive colors with ceiling lights that  showcase the pole and the immediate area around it.

There is no furniture in the room besides a plush black arm chair and a side table.

Sylus calls you over to the N109 Zone saying that he has a surprise for you.

When you arrive he’s all smirks and being more vague than usual. You also don’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes.

As he lets you walk into the room first, you are speechless.

“Forgive me if this is too presumptuous kitten, but I couldn’t get the image of you pole dancing out of my mind. I have a request, why don’t you show me what you’ve learned so far?”

“What’s in it for me?”

Sylus chuckles huskily before replying “Have I ever left you empty handed? You know me better than that.”

You gulp at his offer and quickly don the outfit and shoes that are placed neatly near the pole in the room.

Sylus dims the lights in the room, with the ceiling lights over the pole brighter than the rest. He settles into the armchair and pours himself a glass of whiskey. He adjusts himself in his pants, already feeling his cock stiffen from the anticipation.

You stretch and take a few breaths to get yourself in the zone.

You connect your phone to the speaker in the room then play the first song from your pole dancing playlist.

Once you feel confident and ready, you make eye contact with Sylus and begin to sway to the seductive music.

Although you took several classes in person, you have never performed for anyone before.

You begin to slowly whine your hips to the beat and spin while maneuvering around the pole.

With Sylus’ full attention focused on you, you can’t help but feel like a goddess.

Sylus’ gaze is practically searing your skin. You begin to perspire from the effort you’re putting into this performance. Feeling bold, you slide all the way down the pole until your thighs are flush with the floor. Then, you crawl towards Sylus.

Sylus sharply inhales and puts down his emptied glass on the side table as he eagerly awaits what’s to come.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his knees and slowly rise to your feet. You flash a mischievous smile at him before straddling his lap. Then you wind your arms around his neck and look into his eyes as you grind down hard onto his lap.

Your breath intermingles as you hypnotize him with your undulating hips. When your performance ends you are lightly panting, nervously awaiting to hear his thoughts.

Sylus is mesmerized by the gift you’ve just given him. And he can’t help but to cup the right side of your face before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Your lips glide against one another before you both have to pull away to catch your breath.

“Does that mean you enjoyed the show?”

“You were exquisite my sweetie,” he says as he places his hands under your thighs and rises from the chair. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he walks towards the door of the room.

“Now, let me give you your prize for that outstanding performance.”

Zayne

Zayne is walking around downtown Linkon when something catches his eye. He sees someone that looks suspiciously like you in the window of a fitness class. He has eyes for no one else as he watched you swing effortlessly around the pole. Not wanting to be mistaken for a pervert, he only watches for a few more moments before continuing on his walk.

He ends up walking past his intended destination because he was lost in thought over what he saw. So many questions pop into his mind. Luckily it is Thursday, and he has plans with you this weekend.

Saturday morning finally arrives, and you are at Zayne’s door holding an assorted box of fruit flavored macaroons.

As you let yourself in with your key, you find Zayne washing dishes in his kitchen. He is lost in his thoughts because he doesn’t immediately notice you’ve come in. You place the macaroons on the kitchen counter before circling his waist with your arms and resting your head on his back.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he says softly.

“I just arrived. A penny for your thoughts?”

He finishes washing the dish in his hand before he dries his hand on a clean dish towel. He untangles his body from yours so he can face you.

“I saw something interesting when I was taking a stroll in downtown Linkon earlier this week.”

“Oh? And what was so interesting that it’s stayed on your mind until now?”

Zayne pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as a light blush overtakes his cheekbones.

“I saw someone who looked exactly like you a few days ago. They could have been your doppelgänger.”

It doesn’t immediately register in your mind that he’s talking about you yet.

“Oh? And what was my twin doing?”

He clears his throat before continuing. “Pole dancing,” he says in a low tone.

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots.

“O-oh,” you say shakily.”

“It’s a new hobby that I picked up recently. I didn’t think you, my doctor, would complain about me building muscle,” you reply cheekily.

“It seems you misunderstood me. I am far from complaining. I do have a request though.”

“And what is that?”

“I request an encore performance, just for me. Considering your medical condition, it is not advisable to begin a new exercise routine without first consulting your doctor.” He says with the smallest grin on his face.

“When is your next available appointment? I had a pole installed in my apartment a week ago. We can conduct your assessment there.”

Rafayel

Rafayel comes across your knee pads and skimpy outfit when he visits your apartment one day.

“What kind of event calls for this outfit cutie?” He asks while holding up your short shorts and knee pads.

IMO Rafayel would be very curious about your pole dancing skills. He would teasingly request a demonstration of your skills and he’d be adorably flustered as he watches your body wind up, down and around the pole.

The man would be flabbergasted and turned on at this demonstration of strength and the expression of freedom as you perform for him.

The sensual nature of this private show is heavy in the room. He’s never seen you look so confident and carefree before. He lets out a weak moan as he watches you and begins to palm his erection through his dress pants.

As a result of your performance, his libido and creativity are at an all time high.

He would have a pole installed in his studio and call you over one day.

He would request that you to hold various poses for him as he attempts to capture the raw sensuality you exude.

Rafayel would get so worked up while he paints that his ever steady hand begins to shake. Before he is done, he is begging for you to use him for your own pleasure. Whether it be riding his face, his cock or his fingers. Any of those get him off because your pleasure is his.

This develops into a pleasurable cycle.

One, two, three paintings later result in Rafayel being desperate and needy for you. More so than he already was. He is never letting you go.

And the paintings of you begin to pile up in his studio. But they aren’t for sale of course, they are for his eyes only.

Because to Rafayel you are the most captivating work of art he’s ever seen, and he will not share this side of you with the rich schmucks that can afford his art.

Caleb

Caleb finds out about your new hobby during one of his visits to Linkon. Instead of heading to his apartment in Skyhaven, he came over to your apartment for a change of pace.

When he walks into your apartment, he is immediately greeted by the pole you had installed in your living room.

He playfully raises his eyebrow and tilts his head to the side as he says, “I didn’t know you have this in you pipsqueak.”

You shrug and say, “I’m not a kid anymore Caleb.”

He slowly eyes you up and down. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. How exactly did you start this new hobby?”

As you explain that you got into pole dancing for fun and strength building Caleb is nodding along with your reasoning.

“Strength building huh? Show me what you’ve learned so far princess.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. But you eventually agree then go change into the performance outfit that gives you the most confidence.

Caleb is already feeling flustered when he sees the skimpy outfit you changed into. He has tried not to act on his long held crush but today may push him past his limit.

As you stretch you wonder if this is crossing the line for what is acceptable to do with a childhood friend/pseudo brother figure. Although you’ve denied it on multiple occasions, your feelings for Caleb lost their innocence well before this moment.

You grab your bluetooth speaker and turn on some music. As you lock gazes with Caleb you feel like this is the point of no return.

Caleb looks suspiciously comfortable seated on your living room couch, thighs spread wide and arms resting on the back of the sofa.

You gaze trails away from him as you close your eyes to get yourself into the zone. After taking a deep breath, you begin to strut around the pole. You seamlessly transition into a routine that you’ve practiced multiple times. But today it feels different, somehow more intimate because Caleb is watching you.

You lose yourself in the music as you climb the pole and twirl slowly down it. You feel so seductive in this moment as you lock eyes with Caleb and take in his reaction.

Caleb was already attracted to you because how could he not be? But tonight, he is struggling to hold back his possessive urges to stake his claim on you. In his mind, you have always been his and tonight he’s going to make sure you know it.

He doesn’t even wait for you to finish your routine before he activates his evol and pulls you right into his lap. His violet eyes were filled with lust as he takes in the surprised look on your face.

You are shook to say the least. Caleb doesn’t use his evol on you often, and when he has it was never for something like this. The tension between you two is thick as you look into each other’s eyes.

“I take it that you liked the show?”

“I’m sure you can feel how much I enjoyed it princess. From now on think I’ll be crashing at your place whenever I’m in town,” he says before pulling you into a messy kiss.

Xavier

Xavier finds out about your new hobby from overhearing a conversation you were having with Tara and Simone.

From the brief snippets he heard, it seemed like something you were really excited about. It made him wonder why you haven’t mentioned it to him yet. Since you two talk practically every day there have been plenty of opportunities to do so.

A few weeks pass before Xavier feels like he’s given you enough time. He decides to bring it up while you two laze around his apartment.

“I heard you talking to your coworkers about your new hobby.”

You choke on your boba tea.

“Did you now?”

“Yeah,” he answers breezily. “What is it?”

“I’m learning how to pole dance. It utilizes multiple muscle groups and I like how it makes me feel.”

Xavier is shocked but he doesn’t let it show on his face. “How does it make you feel?”

You whisper out “Strong…and beautiful.”

Xavier hums lightly at your answer.

“Are you allowed to record yourself in the classes you take?”

“I would have to check. But, I had a pole installed in my apartment a few days ago.”

A small smile appeared on Xavier’s face. “Can you show me your moves bunny?”

You send a flirtatious smile his way before standing up and walking towards his front door.

Let’s just say that Xavier is mystified by your hips. You show out for him just to see what causes him to lose his composure. It happens to be the moment that you slide down the pole, proceed to stand up and swivel your hips in a figure eight motion that does it.

Xavier flashes over to the pole, grabs you, then sits back on the couch while holding you in his lap. “Continue dancing,” is all he says in the commanding tone that makes your heart quiver. When you look in his eyes you realize you may have pushed him too hard.

You gyrate in his lap as you hold his gaze, charmed by his blue eyes that have darkened with lust.

His thumbs are digging into your hips, holding you in place. As if you’re trying to escape.

Xavier would 100% whisper some nasty shit into your ear while you continue to grind on him. Once he’s had enough let’s just say that your bed frame and pussy never recovered ♡.

[a-pute11as]

clear intentions - jenni hermoso

word count - 3.2k | summary - jenni has very clear intentions, but r is determined to not fall for her charm.. again

MDNI 18 + - 18+ themes & suggestions of smut

team nights out were always fun, some alcohol, a lot of dancing and outfits that probably showed more than they needed to especially when you were celebrating your recent cup win. somehow your ex-situationship had made an appearance at the celebration, and whilst you were known for falling for her charm ridiculously quickly you knew you couldn’t give into her too easily.

“jenni is here” patri smirked, fully aware of the whole backstory surrounding the two of you.

“do not fall into her trap nena, it’s always a bad idea” cata insisted, rolling her eyes at the thought of how many times she had said that to you before.

“i won’t okay, the last time i saw her was after the bronze medal match, and that really was something but it’s not happening again” you reminisced, biting your lip slightly, remembering an incredible night fueled by a lot of frustration on jenni’s end. 

“jodete, you came to that game to come and support your teammates and ended up fucking your ex” cata said, shaking her head, slightly disappointed in your actions. 

“of course idiota, we’ve all heard how good it is, how can she say no with those tattoos and muscles and how good her tong-” patri commented, mocking the excuses you had previously given to your friends every time the situation happened before you could cut her off. 

“oye no mas” you interrupted your friend, not letting her finish her sentence, “i won’t say yes tonight, i’m going to get with someone else tonight instead” you insisted.

you knew your friends didn’t believe you, but you also knew jenni was expecting you to go running back to her, which you were determined to not let happen. well that’s what you thought.

the three of you made your way over to the bar, joining a few of your other team mates who were just about to take shots. pina handed one to you, a smirk on her face as she nudged her head in the direction of jenni who was talking to people on the other side of the club. you rolled your eyes before letting the liquor hit the back of your throat with speed.

pina raised her eyebrows at you, her shot glass still in her hand, “no jenni tonight?” she questioned before taking her shot. 

“no pina i’m not, it’s like you guys don’t trust me” you shook your head, reaching for another full shot glass, before pina blocked your hand.

“amiga slow down, just be careful” pina reasoned, dropping your hand beside you with a reassuring smile. 

you did follow her advice, not having another drink until slightly later on in the evening, spending the majority of time on the dancefloor with your friends.

it wasn’t until kika approached you that reminded you of your goal to get with a different girl tonight, she tapped you on your shoulder causing you to turn your attention to her “creo que a mi amiga le gustas”.

“cuál?” you asked, eyeing up her friends who were standing a few metres from you. 

“la rubia” she confirmed, pointing to the blonde who stood on the right. 

truth be told, she wasn’t your exact type, but she was hot. she was probably 5’5, her blonde curly hair sat mid back, and she was wearing a shirt that made your eyes focus on a very specific area. you were interested enough to forget about jenni for a short amount of time. 

you approached the blonde, offering to buy her a drink, taking her hand in yours and leading her to the bar. ordering two shots of tequila, she lined herself up behind you, her hands instinctively finding home on your waist as the two of you waited for your shots to be prepared. 

“is this going to be a normal shot, or a fun shot?” she asked, pressing herself against you as the tequila was poured into tiny glasses in front of you. 

you turned yourself slightly in her grip, seeing jenni out of the corner of your eye, her eyes watching you like a hawk, “why don't we have some fun”. 

she brought the small glass up to your lips, resting her hand on your jaw as she tilted your head back, her thumb caressing your bottom lip as you swallowed the sour liquid. before removing her hand, she ran her thumb across your bottom lip painfully slowly. just as you reached down to grab the shot for her, you were rudely interrupted by a figure behind you.

“what’s going on here?” she asked. 

you quickly turned around, greeted by a tall, dark haired, heavily tattooed figure. “jenni what are yo-”.

“i’ll talk to you later, i wanna know why she thinks it’s okay to touch my girlfriend?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head, a mix of jealousy and possessiveness covering her words.

“girlfriend?” the blonde questioned, “kika said you were single” she argued, incredibly confused by the random women who had interrupted the fun moment you were having.

you turned your attention back to the blonde, giving her an awkward smile “i am single, she is just desperate, ignore her honestly”.

“desperate? mi amor we both know those words suit you more” jenni mocked, her tongue flicking across her bottom lip, clearly trying to put you off. 

you turned back around to face her, slightly angry at the interruption she had caused “i’m not talking to you jenni, you shouldn’t even be here”.

“and yet you’re talking to me right now princesa” she remarked with a cocky smirk. she knew the effect her nicknames had on you, they always did, especially when she switched between slightly broken english and her native tongue. 

“i’m only talking to you because you’re practically stalking me and won’t leave me alone” you stated, trying to be firm, yet it didn’t appear to be working. 

“ahh stalking? if you wanted to roleplay you could’ve asked” the cocky smirk only growing further at the lewd suggestion. 

you could’ve sworn you were about to turn around and kiss the blonde girl behind you, until you began to turned around and she was no longer there. “jennifer now she’s gone, thanks a lot!’ you thanked her sarcastically.

“si efectivamente, thanks to me” she shrugged nonchalantly, clearly completing the task she set out to do, not seeing a problem with her actions. 

“hermoso, leave me alone!” you half shouted, quickly taking the leftover shot before walking away from the spanish footballer. 

you quickly found your friends, filling them in on the situation that had just occurred. “i can’t believe she thinks i would bend over for her whenever she asks!” you protested. “pero lo hiciste, many many times” cata commented.

“isn’t that her favourite position?” patri asked, trying to hold back her laughter. 

you shot her a glare, “hijas de puta, she is not ending up in my bed tonight!” you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, at this point you were trying to convince yourself just as much.  

soon enough you were pulled onto the dance floor with your friends, trying to forget about your previous jenni encounter, yet all your mind could think about was her. the way her head would automatically tilt when she showed that stupid cocky smirk or the way her tongue flicked across her bottom lip when she said something that she knew riled you up, but especially the way her hands would roam your body whilst your back was arched or something stupid like that. 

zoning out, you let the music take over you completely, you were genuinely enjoying yourself. you felt familiar hands grip your waist from behind, not even bothering to pay attention to who they belong to, assuming it was one of your teammates who came to join in on the fun.

you had stayed that way for at least a few minutes, if not more, until you recognised a whole too familiar move. the person behind you had tugged at the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly as her fingers lightly drew patterns on your waist before gripping onto it firmly. attempting to turn around in her grip you were stopped by being pulled closer into the individual, there now being absolutely no space between the two of you. 

“at least talk to me princesa” she muttered in your ear, giving you all the confirmation you needed of who was behind you. 

“hermoso you can’t keep doing this” you tried your best not to give in, but you could feel yourself starting to relax in her grip with a weird sense of familiarity,

“i know they don’t make you feel as good as i do” jenni purred, her breath making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, “mi amor, let me show you how good i can make you feel”.

it was her classic line, and she knew the effect her words had on you, but as much as you started to relax in her touch there was a voice in the back of your head that sounded a bit like cata telling you to not let her ‘trap’ you. 

all of a sudden you pushed your way out of her arms, running to the outside smoking area that was luckily incredibly quiet. you leant against the wall, trying to catch your breath, whilst also trying to think of what to do next. closing your eyes, you tried to block out the seductive words that were playing through your head, not only was the heat rising to your cheeks but it was also growing in between your legs. 

“why are you avoiding me?” your eyes shot open, being met by jenni stood directly in front of you. 

you rolled your eyes, “i’m not playing this game with you jenni”.

“then why are you letting other girls touch you? sabes que no me gusta” she replied, her head tilting with a genuinely confused look on her face, taking a step closer. 

“i can get with whoever i want, i don’t need your permission” you fired back. 

“you never have a problem asking for permission when i’m on top of you” she retaliated, your cheeks instantly flushing a bright red. 

“jennifer shut up, we are in public” your eyes now diverted down to the ground to avoid her gaze. 

she laughed slightly before replying, “mi amor when has that ever stopped us before”. 

you couldn’t even figure out a way to respond to her, she knew she could say all the right things to make you weak at the knees and the heat between your legs was proving that. with that she closed the space between you, her hands landing on either side of the wall behind you as her neck craned down to meet your ear, “you know i’m better, stop running from me”. 

as if it was a reflex, your eyes shut as your breathing grew heavy, it was ridiculous how easy this woman could have you but you knew you couldn’t give in. the heat from her breath was a subtle reminder of the lack of space between the two of you. 

“you don’t have to say anything carino, i know exactly what you’re thinking, you’re the only person i’m taking home tonight so when you finally realise that i’ll be waiting” the audacity that she had to assume that you would give in was ridiculous… ridiculously right but you knew you had to long it out for your own sanity. 

as if your body suddenly came alive again, you pushed past jenni, walking straight back into the club, leaving her standing alone in the smoking area. on your way back to your friends, you grabbed yourself another drink, needing a little more to push you over the edge. 

“you’ll never believe what just happened” were the first words that left your mouth as you approached patri, cata and pina.  

the ideal response would be them being shocked at her actions, yet they all knew her game play and had seen it all before. 

“i mean why not? you’ll end up doing it anyways” patri said shrugging her shoulders. 

“no callate, don-” cata said, trying to interrupt and be reasonable before being cut off by pina. 

“maybe this time will be different and you two can finally admit you’re in love with each other” pina added, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“joder, shut up, don’t tempt her” cata responded, trying to put a stop to the two girls who were now giggling slightly. 

“cata you’re only saying that because you live next door” pina responded, her laughter increasing. 

“si and i don’t want to make another noise complaint” she shook her head as she spoke, “so many noises and ‘jenni please’, it haunts me” she mocked which only set patri and pina off further. 

“todos ustedes son idiotas” you muttered.

“no, no entiendes, there were so many noises i did not want to hear” cata firmly said, her eyes wide as if she had seen the most traumatising thing possible. 

you shook your head, dismissing her last comment as patri and pina were still hunched over cackling as cata continued to mock the noises she had heard from your apartment. 

your eyes drifted around the club, obviously trying to find the spanish football that had you between her arms only minutes ago, yet you were met with the sight of a random girl smiling up at her as her hand rested on jenni’s bicep. 

“si, es material de novia” you heard her say, a clear smirk planted on her face as the shorter girl giggled at her terrible joke. 

“i can’t believe her” you muttered, clenching onto your glass that was now empty, which concerned cata enough to take the glass from your hand. 

“dame esto, you know she’s doing it for a reaction” cata said, wrapping an arm around you as she put the glass down onto an empty table. 

your eyes fixed on jenni, watching the way she made another girl laugh and smile whilst she stood there with her stupid smirk. “she told me she’d be leaving with me and now she’s about to fuck another girl in front of everybody”

“and yet you will still fuck her” cata muttered, turning her attention back to your other teammates, knowing her words would be no use. 

still focused on jenni, you watched as her eyes flickered in your direction, giving you a wink before turning back to the girl whose hands were still all over her. 

refusing to watch any longer, you made your way towards the bathroom. bursting through the door, you leant against the sink as your head dropped with the shame she had made you feel. yet again, it reminded you that you were only there when it was convenient for her. 

you heard the door open and close, not even bothering to look up, assuming it would be anyone else but her until you heard the door lock, which made your head shoot up. she stood against the wall, arms crossed with a cocky smirk on her face. 

“oh did you get bored of making stupid flirty jokes to random girls?” you spoke, clear jealousy in your voice. 

“mi amor come on, that was a great joke, my shirt really feels like girlfriend material, see” she laughed, brushing her hands down her chest as if she was showing off a new purchase. 

“ah so you’re only leaving with me but you had no problem with her touching you?” you questioned, head tilted as you challenged her actions. 

“it worked didn’t it?” she shrugged casually, her arms back to being crossed against her chest. 

“go fuck her then, see if i care” you said, your voice raising higher than before “eres una bici? getting all these girls to ride you”, you muttered. 

jenni’s eyebrows raised at your response, “watch your attitude, no me hables asi”. 

“or what? go use your stupid rules for that side hoe you were about to fuck” you spat, mocking her dominance  as if it was a challenge. 

she approached you, her hands dropped to her side as she cornered you against the sink, leaving a painfully close gap yet not laying a hand on you. 

“you know exactly what i’d do to you” she remarked, looking you up and down, leaning closer to your ear as she whispered exactly how she’d leave you overstimulated and struggling to walk like the last time you gave her this kind of attitude. and just like usual, she could tell what her words did to you, your breath picking up as your mind filled with the exact feeling of what she described. your thighs pushing together to find some kind of friction that you were lacking, “but i think i’d rather watch you squirm right now” she added, pulling away from you as she let out a slightly sadistic laugh.

you tried to speak but you couldn’t form any words, struggling to think of anything but what she had whispered to you. 

“or are you going to run away from me again?” she remarked, taking a step back from you, putting more space back between the two of you. 

closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to evaluate your options, your friends had been telling you all night how much of a bad idea this was and yet you were so close to jumping into her arms and letting her do what she wanted to you. 

“is it more than sex?” you quickly asked, not even thinking as the words left your mouth. 

“que?” jenni looked at you with a puzzled face. 

“you heard me jenni” you stated, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were standing your ground. 

her hand reached out to cup your cheek, “do you think i would act like this if it was just sex? i turned up just to see you and i’ve literally not kept my eyes off of you, i could have killed that girl for having her hands on you and i still plan on it, the only reason i talked to that girl was so i could find another reason to talk to you”.

“lo siento, i should’ve just talked to you instead of trying to get with another girl” you dropped your arms in defeat. 

she pulled you closer, one hand on your hip and the other still on your jaw, her eyes flicked between your eyes and lips before she crashed her own into yours. being with jenni felt so familiar, it felt like home and you knew for sure you’d be taking her home tonight too. 

she pulled away, giving the two of you a chance to breathe, “esta bien mi princesa, but you’ll be really sorry later when i remind you what happens when you give me attitude”, she smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“jenni please” you pleaded, hinting for her to go easy on you, knowing it would probably not work but it was worth a shot. 

“si! that’s what you’ll be saying, muy bien cari” she used her hand to squeeze your cheeks together, making your lips form a pout, giving you another quick kiss, she took your hand and led you out of the club.

whilst you were determined to not let the spanish footballer into your bed for the night, there was no other way you wanted the night to end other than that exact way, which was more than ideal.

a/n - not proof read, any spelling errors lmk x

[sloaneispunk]

“a real man”

dbf!in-ho x you

when a family party takes place, you finally met the one and only hwang in-ho, your father’s best friend. when unsettled disputes take place, you find shelter with the man who was thrice your age.

“y/n, get the door will you?” your dad asked, taking the plates from your hands as you made your way to the front door.

you yanked the door open, mumbling under your breath. why did he have to throw this party anyway? it’s not like it was the first time you were home, why was he making such a big deal out of it?

“hey, sweetheart. is your dad home?” a man said.

you took a good look of the man that stood before you in the doorway. holy shit.

“in-ho! there you are! was starting to think you were ditching your old pal!” your father’s voice boomed from behind you, pushing you away from the door as he took your place, inviting the unfamiliar man in.

“it’s good to see you too, man.” he chuckled.

“i’m assuming you’ve met y/n?” your father introduced, stepping aside, revealing your confused face.

“i did…” in-ho nodded, “quite a pretty one.”

a blush crept onto your cheeks. “thank you.”

“polite too? you raised her well.”

“of course i did. don’t know what her mum’s been teaching her though, been a little angsty lately.” your dad revealed, making your eyes grow wide.

“can we not do this now?” you gritted, glaring at him.

after that, you never saw much of in-ho, being cooped up in the house while everyone was having the time of their lives outside with your dad in the party that he had organised for you.

eventually, you grew bored, grabbing a drink and hopping onto the kitchen counter as you watched the party unfold in the backyard with your father.

“hey, what are you doing here?” in-ho’s gentle voice rang in your ears, snapping you out from zoning out.

“these aren’t even my friends, they’re my dad’s.” you said defeated, peeking at the ongoing party outside.

“guessed it. didn’t think you’d be friends with all us older men.” he joked, making you chuckle, shaking your head. “you know, if it’s not pushing your boundaries, can i ask-why did your dad throw this get-together again?”

“i’ve been living with my mom for a few months, today’s the first time i’m back in awhile.” you told him. “oh, i’m sorry, do you want a beer or something?”

“don’t be silly, kid. this is your party, i’ll get it myself.” he smiled.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence as he leaned against the counter beside you, giving you the silent company you needed.

“you know for what it’s worth, i think you look beautiful.” in-ho broke the silence, turning his head slightly to face you.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” suddenly, he felt a sense of pride overwhelm him. he couldn’t possibly grasp the thought of you finding him attractive as he found you. afterall, he was almost thrice your age.

when it was finally time for a sit-around at the dining table, you were way out of your comfort zone. eyes burned holes into you from every angle, giving you no space for privacy whatsoever.

“so, y/n… youe dad tells me that you’ve been living with your mom?” a friend of your father’s questioned.

there we go. “uh, yeah.”

“how’s it like there? she any better than your dad?” he teased, making your father let out a low laugh as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“c-can we don’t talk about this-”

“of course it is!” youe father interrupted. “couldn’t even get her to come over for a good few months, must have been really great.”

only in-ho noticed you were in distress, your breathing getting faster as your leg shook under the table. testing waters, he placed a hand on your thigh under the table, hoping to give you some stability to get through the dinner.

when you felt his warm hand on your thigh, you jerked away initially, thinking that it was one of thise old creeps who had touched you. but upon realising that it was only in-ho you shifted closer to him. as if you were silently begging for his help.

“we can all be gentleman at this table, let’s not give the lady any trouble, huh?” in-ho had intervened, anger slowly building up inside of him as they continued to press you with uncomfortable questions.

“hey speaking of your mom, she ever bring anyone home recently? like a colleague? maybe a friend?” you father asked.

“no.” you stated bluntly, you could already feel your eyes being welled up with tears.

but it didn’t stop there, you father as well as his friends made no effort to stop their interrogation.

eventually, you broke, letting the tears spill onto your lap as you tried your best to play it off without drawing anymore attention to yourself, but it was in vain.

“kid, are you cryin’?” one of them laughed, catching the attention of the rest.

“she is!”

“why are you crying, little girl?”

“do you want your mommy?”

in-his fist grew tighter around the handle of the fork he was holding, he couldn’t sit there and watch as you were being tormented by these sick bastards.

“boys, that’s enough!” he suddenly yelled, causing the room to go dead silent.

without another word said, he stood up, his chair scraping ear piercingly on the wooden floor as he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the table and out the front door.

luckily for you, in-ho was only staying a couple blocks down, no more than a good three minute walk. the whole time, he said nothing, only changing his grip on you from the hand to your waist, leading you to his porch.

when you got to the doorstep, you stopped on your tracks, making him turn around, quickly taking a quick scan of your face to see if he had hurt you on accident.

“hey, talk to me, what’s wrong, love?” he asked in a soft tone, as if he were talking to a little girl.

“i can’t be here.” you said, looking up at him teary-eyed. “my dad will kill me.”

“nonsense… i won’t let him lay a hand on you, i promise. it’s better to stay here than with all the rascals there anyway.”

you winced at his harsh words, reminding you once again of the conversation at the dinner table.

“let’s not think about any of that anymore, alright? come in, you must be exhausted too, pretty girl.” he said as he ushered you inside.

in-ho’s house was warm. it smelt like him, the dim yellow lights bluncing off the perfectly decorated walls of his home. it was so quiet, just perfect.

“here, you can change into this. make yourself comfortable.” he said as he offered you a shirt and sweatpants which looked like it was his.

you thanked him and headed to the bathroom to change out of your clothes. when you were returned bacm to the living room, he was already on the sofa, legs spreaded out cozily as a tv programme played.

“there you are, do you have anything you wanna do in mind?”

‘no’ you shooke your head.

“then why don’t we just stay here and watch some movies. how does that sound?”

a smile broke on your face, making him feel a sense of relief. but to his surprise, you didn’t take just any emoty end of the sofa. you shuffled up close to him, merely centremeters away as he could smell your perfume that hadn’t worn off. it was driving him crazy.

as the two of you sat in silence, watching the show, in-ho noticed how your head was starting to fall closer and closer to his chest. he took a peak, seeing that you were now barely awake, struggling to keep your eyes open. he chuckled, pulling away, making your slowly open your eyes and lifting your head.

“no, no, stay there.” he cooed, moving closer in a more snug position for the both of you. and wirh his signal, you laid your head on his chest, your body and legs curled into a ball as he draped his arm over you while the other found its way to your hair. he combed through the soft, lush strands, lulling you to sleep as he did so.

“goodnight, y/n.” he whispered before leaning down carefully, placing a kiss on your forehead, watching as you tried to snuggle up closer to him.

in-ho knew he was doomed. it was a dangerous game he was playing with his best friend’s daughter. but at that moment, he realised just how bad he had had it for you. and there was no turning back.

[wstviewvidal]

homesick- w. maximoff

summary: at last.

pairing: rich!wanda x r

a/n: (real) last chapter of dirty cash! thank you to those who were patient with me. life is crazy!

minors do not interact

the brisk walk to wanda’s office building had you holding your coat shut and your face hidden beneath your scarf. the thick material doing nothing to shield you from the sharp gusts of wind slicing through the street.

the following days after your first kiss were filled with hour long phone calls and dinner dates around the city, the kind that lasted hours because neither of you wanted them to end. you two rivaled that of two lovesick teenagers— not that either of you really minded.

you couldn’t ask for someone as thoughtful and sweet as wanda. she made you forget that you ever wanted to swear off of relationships after jess.

the breakup between the two of you was brutal, the kind that left wounds you struggled to heal.

but then came wanda— who came into your life and swept you off your feet, gentle and electric. a surprise you never expected to love and cherish so much.

you push through the front doors of the building and greet the receptionist with a wide grin as you walk into the building.

she looks away from her computer, peering over her thick glasses, “you here for miss maximoff?”

the subtle smirk on her lips causes you to roll your eyes playfully. you respond with a sarcastic tone, “it’s either for her or to discuss how to buy a share of her company.”

swatting her hand at you playfully, she picks up her desk phone to alert wanda that you are on your way up to her office.

in your hands, you carry a lunchbox filled with a homemade lunch— a small excuse to steal wanda away for a bit.

knocking on her office door, you patiently wait for a response before you walk in.

given the green light, you walk in cautiously, unsure if you’d be intruding on a conversation. you scan the room, noting her degrees framed on the wall and the warm light lamp that’s turned on for ambiance.

wanda stands from her chair, walking over to you with a warm smile, “hi, beautiful.”

you meet her halfway and stand on your tip toes to meet her in a brief kiss, “hi,” you say softly as you pull away.

wanda holds you by your waist, looking you over with a subtle smirk. her eyes have a glint in them, a glint you don’t think you’ve seen before.

“i brought you some lunch,” you gesture to the pink lunch box in your hand, “you have time for me?” you tease gently, rubbing a hand on her forearm.

a small chuckle escapes her lips, her thumbs brushing over your waist in a gentle manner, “for you? always.”

the two of you sit adjacent to each other, enjoying the homemade pasta you’d brought. as you eat, wanda updates you on on the latest work drama that’s been going on— little bits and pieces she’s picked up from afar.

you nod along, finding it humorous that someone so polished and professional would enjoy work drama— especially sharing it with her.. girlfriend?

the title flits through your head and your heart stumbles over it.

the two of you have yet to discuss the topic of labels, wanting to take it slow. you don’t know where wanda stands on labels, or if she wants to take this any further than what it is now.

your heart feels heavy at the thought of wanda not wanting to pursue anything further than what you two are right now. wanda is a busy body, always throwing herself into her work. you can’t blame her for that, but you wonder if this is all she will want from you.

wanda watches you, the small frown on your lips causing her concern, “hey, you okay?” her voice is soft, one she uses with valerie when she’s upset.

you look up at her with a confused look, blinking away the thoughts, “yeah, why?” your voice is slightly high pitched. wanda catches it immediately and raises an eyebrow at you.

she sets down her plate and looks at you with a gentle expression, “what’s wrong? work? your friends?” wanda studies you, as if the answer is written on your cream knit sweater.

a soft sigh escapes your lips and you shake your head, “one day when you’re older,” you poke fun at wanda’s words to valerie when she asks too many questions beyond her age.

with an eye roll, wanda drops the topic but not before nudging your foot with her shoe. you two continue to eat, enjoying each other’s company. you glance at each other with playfulness, not hiding from each other for once.

you glance at the clock on wanda’s wall, a small sigh escaping your lips, “let me call my boss before she thinks i abandoned ship.”

wanda lets out a small laugh and nodding in understanding, “of course.”

you step outside of her office, quickly making the call. you’re just about to put your phone in your pocket before a blonde woman walks past you, a smirk on her lips as she slows down just in front of you.

“didn’t know we had any new hires, are you new here?” she asks, a devilish look in her eyes that you’re not sure you’re a fan of.

you politely shake your head and give a small smile, “just here visiting someone important.”

the woman looks over you, something of a satisfied look taking over her features, “well, when you’re tired of that, we could use some more pretty faces around here.”

the woman’s boldness catches you off guard, causing you to blink at her. a nervous laugh escapes your throat, “good to know.”

before the woman can shamelessly flirt any further, you politely excuse yourself and slip back into wanda’s office. she’s scrolling through her computer, a concentrated look on her face.

holding back a smirk, you decide to tease her, “you’ve got a really good environment going here, you know? very welcoming.”

you’re leaned against the door frame, eyes tracing over wanda’s poised face. her tailored suit enamoring you in the easiest way.

wanda raises an eyebrow, moving to face you completely, “oh?”

“yeah,” you’ve cross your arms over your chest, “one of your employees said i would add to the… camaraderie.”

wanda’s expression doesn’t fade, but you can see how her jaw clenches slightly and her eyes narrow just the tiniest bit, “really? who was it?”

laughing at her subtle jealousy, “not like you’re going to fire them.”

wanda’s eyebrows raise at that, “are you forgetting i have the power to do that?”

playing along, you act like you’re thinking pensively, “i mean, she did call me pretty…”

wanda hums, looking alarmingly calm, but the way her nostrils flare a bit and the way her head tilts to the side— yeah, she’s definitely jealous.

“that’s funny,” she murmurs, “i was under the impression you were already taken.”

before you can even process your next words, you say, “well, i wouldn’t be a good girlfriend if i let people at your company flirt with me, wouldn’t i?”

silence.

the realization hits you like a truck. your face instantly heats up and your stomach does flips.

the both of you freeze, but the expressions on your faces differ drastically. you look mortified at the idea of assuming too far ahead, wanda looks like she just won a game you weren’t even aware you were playing.

“girlfriend?” her voice has a hint of amusement.

you squeeze your eyes shut, as if wishing you could teleport yourself out of the situation you put yourself in.

“wanda, i didn’t mean-“

she leans back in her desk chair, a smug look on her face as she watches you squirm, “am i your girlfriend, baby? when did i earn that title?”

if you weren’t already mortified, that would’ve done it. a nervous smile tugs at your lips and you glance over at her, “are you?”

wanda’s smug look slowly morphs into a warm expression. she stands from her chair and walks over to where you’re standing, her hands finding their familiar spot on your waist.

wanda’s exhales a small breath as she looks over your face, “am i your girlfriend?” her voice is low and soft.

you swallow, hands instinctively finding the lapels of her jacket, “unless you don’t want to be.”

your voice is laced with nervousness and you’re sure wanda can hear the slight shakiness in your words.

a warm laugh escapes wanda’s lips as she places gentle kisses along your jaw, “of course i do.”

she pulls away from you slightly— just enough to look you in your eyes, “is that okay with you?”

you nod softly, taking in the warmth in wanda’s eyes— the genuine sincerity laced in her words, “yeah.”

and then she leans in, placing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. it’s not rushed or urgent— slow and promising. when she pulls back, she places her forehead against yours.

“i like the sound of that,” she whispers.

you two stand there for a moment, enjoying the moment— wrapped in each other’s arms and letting the weight of it settle.

then—

“now tell me about this employee of mine who thought they stood a chance,” she says, pulling back from you.

laughing, you nudge her shoulder playfully, “relax, maximoff, they never stood a chance.”

wanda’s scoffs, rolling her eyes, “of course they didn’t.”

and just like that, the air in the room is lighter and filled with promise. promises of stability and trust. you and wanda, together. no guessing and no more hesitation.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Blue for a while | Buddy & Monkey: Double The Trouble

summary: monkey's loan spell in the 2022/23 season.

double the trouble masterlist

The Manchester rain felt different. It wasn’t just that it was heavier, colder, or lingered in the air longer than it did in London.

It was lonelier.

And you hated it.

You hated the city. The constant rain, the grey skies, the way it was always cold. You hated how the wind cut through you even when you wore three layers. London was cold too, but it never felt this miserable.

You hated the shirt. You especially hated how the blue felt wrong against your skin, and how every time you pulled it on, it made your stomach churn.

You had grown up in red. Arsenal was your home, your family. 

This? This was nothing but a punishment.

Or at least it felt like it was.

And more than anything, you hated Jonas for sending you here.

You had been absolutely fuming when you found out about the loan.

“You’re joking? I’m not going there!” You exclaimed, outraged even at the thought of it.

“You don’t have a choice, kid,” Jonas had said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“You… You can’t make me! Leah–” You turned to her, desperate, “Le, can’t you stop this? You can’t let this happen!”

Leah’s jaw had been tight, her fingers flexing at her sides. She was just as frustrated as you were, but the fight had already been lost before it even began, “It’s out of my hands I’m afraid, my girl,” Her voice was strained, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to go,” You had pleaded.

“I know,” Leah exhaled a sigh, running her hand through her hair, “But you’re going to be fine. Kei, G, and Lucy are there. Just think of it like an adventure.”

Of course, Leah tried to make it sound like it was better than it was, but it wouldn’t be.

You scoffed, shaking your head in protest, “But I don’t want an adventure, I want to stay here.”

Jonas, however, didn’t look the slightest bit phased, “You’ll be expected to arrive in Manchester for your medical tomorrow. The club is sorting your transport out.”

Your stomach had twisted at that. It was happening, whether you wanted it or not.

“Where am I even gonna stay?” You asked, confused as your voice was small.

“Don’t worry, Monkey. I’ll speak to Kei and Luce, and I’m sure you can stay with them,” Leah said, she was trying to be reassuring but you saw the way she was struggling with the idea of this herself.

And then, just like that, the club’s announcement post dropped the following morning after you found out.

It was official.

“Remember, it’s going to be an adventure,” Leah said, forcing a faint smile.

You scowled, “A terrible adventure. Why do I have to go?”

Leah sighed, barely managing to get a spoonful of porridge into Buddy’s mouth, “It was the club’s decision, Monkey. I can’t do anything about it.”

But you didn’t want to hear that. You wanted her to fix it.

You hated it here. And you were vocal about your feelings.

“I hate it here. It’s so shit,” You grumbled, collapsing onto the bed in Lucy and Keira’s spare bedroom after another miserable training session.

“Stop swearing,” Leah chided through the phone, “It’s only for this season. You’re going to be fine, and you have Kei, G, and Lucy, remember? It’s going to be alright.”

You huffed, rolling onto your stomach, “You’ve sent me to live with a crazy woman, Le!”

Leah sighed, “You’re being dramatic, Monkey,”

“Am I? Lucy tried to shove pineapple on my pizza yesterday. I barely made it out alive,” You protested, dramatically.

“Relax, squirt. Auntie Kei is here to keep you safe,” Keira popped her head around the bedroom door with a cheesy grin, “Don’t yer’ worry, Le. She’s safe with us!”

You wrinkled your nose, “Did you seriously just refer to yourself in the third person? So lame.”

Keira cackled, “You’re just mad ‘cause I scored that banger past you in training.”

You groaned. You hated that too.

You hated how Keira and Lucy had been given orders from Leah before you even arrived. 

Don’t let her spend too much money.

Don’t let her stay up late.

Make sure she eats properly–no sweets, no energy drinks.

You weren’t a child.

Okay, sure, you were only seventeen, but still. You could take care of yourself.

Except… you were currently banned from Uber Eats because Keira caught you trying to order a McFlurry for breakfast. Lucy had physically taken a pack of Haribo Goldbears out of your hand at training. And when you tried to sneak an energy drink before the match, Keira snatched it and took a sip right in front of you–just to be annoying.

“You’re the worst,” You grumbled, arms crossed.

“You’re predictable,” Keira had shot back, grinning.

You just wanted to throw something at her.

But the worst part?

It wasn’t just that you hated Manchester. 

You hated City. 

Their football was different, it wasn’t Arsenal’s football, and you felt it in every training session, every match. The movement was different, the patterns weren’t the ones burned into your brain from Hale End. Even when you did well, it didn’t feel right.

And the dressing room? It wasn’t the same. Sure, everyone was nice, but they weren’t your people. You missed Katie’s loud, chaotic energy. You missed Lia trying to make sure you ate before training. You even missed Kim’s usual Captain’s mannerisms and stern words.

You missed Leah. You missed Jordan.

And most of all, you missed your favourite little buddy.

The Arsenal group chat was still very much active on your phone, but it didn’t feel like yours anymore. The first few days, the girls had kept you included – talking about training, sending memes– but then the messages started to feel different. The jokes weren’t ones you were in on anymore. You saw pictures from team dinners–moments that you weren’t a part of.

You tried to pretend it didn’t sting.

Jordan and Leah, of course, always checked in.

Jordy: How’s City treating you, little one?

Your answer was always the same.

You: Shit.

Jordan sent a laughing emoji. That bad?

You didn’t hesitate to show how much disinterest you had for the city or the club.

You: Yes. I hate it. I fuckin’ Jonas. I hate the shitty weather. I hate the stupid fuckin’ football. I hate everything.

Followed by a phone call from Leah, usually to scold you about your vibrant language.

“Stop swearing will you,” Leah chastised in her usual manner, “Jord told me about the text you sent her. I know it’s hard, but…”

You didn’t say the worst part.

You didn’t say how much you missed home.

You didn’t say how much you missed your family.

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter, “I want to come home,” You muttered, quieter this time, “What if Buddy forgets who I am? I can’t let that happen.”

“Monkey,” Leah’s voice softened instantly, “She’s not going to forget who you are. She’ll still remember her big sister.”

“She’s just a baby,” Your voice cracked, “Babies forget things.”

Silence stretched between you. Then, the call flickered into a FaceTime request. You accepted it without hesitation, and the screen filled with Buddy’s tiny face. She was clutching your old stuffed monkey, babbling your name like it was the only word she knew.

Leah smiled, tilting the camera, “Someone’s missing their big sister. She won’t let go of it,” She teased, her voice warm, “Does this look like’s forgetting you anytime soon?”

Your throat tightened, eyes burning as you fought back tears, “That’s not fair,” You mumbled, voice thick, “You can’t just make me cry like this.”

Leah’s smile softened, “It’s just this season, my girl. You’ll be back home in London before you know it.”

That season felt like an eternity.

© scribblesofagooonerr

[steddieas-shegoes]

i don’t know why i can’t take my eyes off of you

for @steddielovemonth day one using You and Me by Lifehouse

rated t | 1186 words | no cw | tags: future fic, second chances, mutual pining, idiots in love, songwriter Eddie, teacher Steve

🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒

Steve’s walking down the frozen section of Melvald’s when time stops.

Not literally. The watch on his wrist is still ticking. The clock on the wall at the front of the store is still moving. People around him are still grabbing their groceries.

But Eddie Munson is standing in front of the ice cream section like he belongs there.

Eddie left Hawkins five years ago.

He kissed Steve on the lips, then the forehead, and left.

Steve’s thought about it, about him, every day since.

Eddie hasn’t noticed him yet. Maybe Steve should leave before he does. Last he’d heard, Eddie was working at a recording studio as a songwriter, halfway making his dreams come true.

He’s happy, or at least that’s what all the kids have said when he’s brought up. They don’t know about the kiss, at least Steve doesn’t think they do. He’s never told them.

It’s busy enough in the store that Steve’s pretty sure he can sneak away before Eddie sees him. He starts to back away, but immediately bumps into an old woman.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He’s asking, and she’s brushing him off and saying she’s fine. He feels terrible.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice is like music, always has been a melody made specifically for Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve says as the old woman walks away. “Hey.”

Steve forgets he’s in public as the world around him fades and all he sees, smells, wants, is Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were still in Hawkins,” Eddie says quietly, leaning forward on his toes. He’s got a new battle vest, though it looks well-worn. Steve wonders if he knows that his old vest is hanging in his closet, if he knows that Steve pulls it out every once in a while so he can put it on and feel a little less alone.

“Yeah. Never left.” It sounds worse than it is. Steve always said he’d leave when all the kids left, but once they did, he didn’t know where to go. It’s not like he could follow them around, couch-surfing across the country a month or two at a time, burdening them with his self-imposed loneliness.

“You look good,” Eddie says, changing the subject.

Leaving Hawkins was a touchy subject for Steve the last time he’d seen Eddie. It still is. Eddie must sense that.

“So do you,” Steve breathes out. He does. He looks healthy and happy, something Hawkins had completely drained from him before. “What are you doing back?”

“Just visiting Wayne. Usually he comes to see me, but he insisted he didn’t wanna deal with the ‘big city’ this time. And I’m the best nephew, so I said ‘sure, old man, I’ll go back to the town that hates my guts!’ And here I am trying to find my favorite ice cream at the store. They don’t have it,” Eddie shrugs. He rambles when he’s nervous, still. “He hasn’t mentioned seeing you around or anything, though.”

“Yeah, I guess we don’t cross paths much,” Steve laughs awkwardly. He can’t remember the last time he saw Wayne. Must’ve been around Christmas, when Steve was helping Joyce with her decorations while Hopper worked overtime and Wayne stopped by to drop off some lights. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s good. Stubborn as hell. Won’t retire even though he could,” Eddie shakes his head. “Think he’s scared of being bored.”

“Or lonely.”

The words escape Steve before he can hold them back.

Eddie’s face softens, but it’s not full of pity. Everyone always gives Steve this look, like they know he’s putting on a brave face. Not Eddie.

“Wayne’s always been content alone. He’s got friends, and he calls me when he has something new to argue about,” Eddie leans in closer. “I don’t really worry about Wayne. Other people, sure.”

“Like who?” Steve swallows.

“You settle down yet?” Eddie asks in response.

Steve’s so shocked by the question, he doesn’t answer.

“I figured the kids were just being nice by not telling me if you did, but you’re not wearing a ring and you’re grocery shopping alone, so…” Eddie rambles again. Steve feels his heart flutter in his chest.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you dating someone?”

Steve shakes his head. “Haven’t really found anyone interesting.”

“Interesting? Since when does Steve Harrington want someone interesting?”

Since the most interesting person he knows kissed him and then left. Since everyone else is boring in comparison to you. Since he realized he was dumb to let you go.

“I guess what I thought I wanted is different now. Has been for a while,” Steve shrugs.

It’s strange how easily Steve becomes wrapped up in Eddie’s orbit, how quickly everything else didn’t matter the moment Eddie started talking to him. It’s just the two of them.

“Excuse me,” a man says to their left. Steve jumps back and apologizes for blocking where he needed to be. Eddie’s eyes never leave Steve.

When the man walks away, Steve clears his throat.

“How long are you in town?”

“How long will it take me to convince you to come back with me?”

Steve chokes on his next breath. “What? Come back with you? To…”

“New York or Chicago. I’m getting a promotion and they’ll let me pick where I wanna go. I’ve been leaning towards Chicago because more of the music I enjoy is making a mark there,” Eddie explains. “And there’s plenty of options for you there, too. Dustin said you just finished your teaching degree.”

“Dustin talks about me?”

“Only when unprovoked,” Eddie grins. “Have you been waiting for me?”

It’s blunt, but Eddie always has been. Steve can hide a lot of emotions from people; It’s been a survival tactic for most of his life.

He’s never been able to hide shit from Eddie.

“Not on purpose.”

Eddie looks at his basket of items. He was really only here for a few things, but he saw his favorite cookies were on sale and he couldn’t resist stocking up. He looks between the basket and Eddie’s eyes.

“You wanna come to mine for dinner?”

“Is dinner cookies?” Eddie laughs, poking at the package closest to the top.

“That’s dessert,” Steve laughs, too. He finds it easy. He never thought it could be this easy after the time that’s passed, the distance they had between them.

“First dessert.”

“What are we, hobbits?” Steve asks.

Eddie’s jaw drops open. “Steve, please. Not in public.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you read it!” Eddie groans, but he’s smiling, so Steve’s not actually worried.

“I’ve read a lot of things! I’ve been waiting for you, remember?”

An announcement starts in the store— someone’s car is blocking a delivery truck entrance— and they both take a step away from each other. They were much closer than they should be in the grocery store.

This is still Hawkins, and people already don’t like Eddie. Looking cozier than two dudes normally would might be dangerous for both of them.

“So. Dinner?” Steve asks again. It’s easier to remember there are other people around with some distance between them.

“Sure. Dinner.”

Time starts again.

[vampzity]

stimulate me | J.WY

★ DAY ONE: VIBRATORS WITH WOOYOUNG ★

pairing: bf! wooyoung x f! reader

watching a movie with your boyfriend sounds a normal task right? Not when your new toy comes into play. Every time you lose focus of the movie, he’ll stop, but when you pay attention the speed only intensifies.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+ !!!, literally no plot, smut, begging, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), fingering, praising, vibrator is used on reader, pet names (baby, good girl, sweet girl), wooyoung’s a jackass, marking, cursing

word count: 1.1k

You laid with your legs in your boyfriend’s lap, watching the movie intently as the gang began to escape their captivity. It was so interesting to you and you were looking forward to sharing this night with Wooyoung, as he’s been so busy at the company. He however, paid no attention to the movie— in fact he didn’t even care for it.

His mind was rushing with anticipation, excitement. Dirty thoughts coursing through him like an animal in heat. Every few seconds he’d glance at you, noticing how unaware you were. His dick twitched under his sweatpants every time he admired your body; the way your breasts were perky under your not-so-baggy top and how your thighs made your pajama shirts roll back slightly.

God what a perv.

“Everything okay Woo?”

He snapped out of his trance, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck shyly. He got up from the couch, quickly retreating to the room. You paused the movie, sitting there confused as you looked down the hall.

“What are you doing? You’re interrupting movie night!” you crossed your arms, a bit annoyed at his sudden change in demeanor.

Wooyoung came back hurriedly, stuffing something into his pocket as he sat back on the couch next to you. You gave him a look, eyes falling to the crowded pocket that he failed to play off.

“What’s in the pocket?”

He laughed nervously, grabbing the remote from you and unpausing the movie. He pulled you closer to him by the waist, resting his chin against your shoulder and making the hairs stand up on your neck from his breathing. He pulled out a small purple vibrator; its head shaped like a rounded cube. Your eyes widened, meeting his as he lifted his head up.

You usually wouldn’t resort to buying anything sexual without telling Wooyoung. Only because he wanted to pay for any of your needs or desires, but you grow so needy in moments when he’s gone. You simply couldn’t help yourself.

“Bought a new toy without consulting me, hm?” He pulled your shorts, throwing them into the ground as you were left in only a tshirt and panties.

“Why don’t I test it out for you?”

He kissed your neck softly, spreading your legs slightly as he placed the vibrator in between your folds. You moaned softly at his touch, his hand holding your chin. A small smile crept on his face as he turned on the toy, the sudden feeling startling you.

“Watch the movie angel. Focus on it real good for me, yeah?”

He leaned closer to your ear, turning the setting to the highest possible. You let out a loud moan, your legs opening wider to allow more access to your sensitive bud.

“If you can’t, don’t bother asking me to cum. Understood?”

You nodded hesitantly, your breath becoming staggered as the vibrations went back to low. Wooyoung moved the toy around your bud, earning a small whimper escaping your lips. Your eyes fluttered as you tried to keep focus on the movie, but it felt so good.

You moaned quietly, feeling his lips peck your neck. He tilted your head slightly, allowing him more access to your sweet skin. His tongue swirled around your skin, sucking against it softly and leaving small red marks.

“Hmm good girl. Wanna cum badly, don’t you?”

You threw your head back in pleasure as he raised the setting, the toy practically pounding against your clit. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, moving it up and down as your moans grew louder. Wooyoung raised his eyebrow at you, turning off the vibrator and shooting you a stern look. He grabbed you by the chin, pulling your face to meet his eyes. He rolled his eyes, laughing in your face as you whined.

“I told you to pay attention to the movie, didn’t I?”

You nodded hesitantly, your head slowly turning back to the television. Wooyoung smiled, turning the vibrator back onto the lowest setting. Wet was an understatement— he could hear the creamy sounds of your cunt from where he sat, and boy did he want a taste.

With every passing scene, the setting got higher, making your moans louder. He pressed it harder against your clit, rubbing it in slow circular motions.

“Tell me how it feels baby, use your words.” You looked at him for a second, his small nod making your knees buckle.

“Need more.”

That’s all he needed to hear. In that moment he could no longer give a crap about the shitty movie that played because all he wanted was you.

Wooyoung pulled you toward him, your body now facing him. He kissed your inner thigh, sucking on them softly to leave small red marks. He ripped off your underwear, throwing them to the floor.

“So fucking needy.” he cooed, sticking a finger inside of you. You whined in pleasure, the mix of the vibrations and his finger hitting your sweet spot being too much for you.

“You like that, don’t you?”

He looked up at you, watching as your mouth was left agape and nothing but small whimpers escaped it. You scrunched your eyes closed, feeling your stomach spasm at the sensations. Wooyoung pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing it softly. He came up to you, pressing the vibrator against your nipple lightly. Your body jolted slightly, breathy moans filling the room.

“Woo,” you mumbled, your hand reaching up to grab his face.

You pulled him to you, your lips crashing against his as he let his fingers toy with your clit. Your nipples grew sore at the constant vibration, leading you to groan into each kiss. Wooyoung kissed your jawline, soon reaching your ear.

“Cum for me baby.”

His whisper felt like music to your ears and within seconds you came undone under him. Your body trembled, chest rising as you tried to catch your breath.

“That’s my sweet girl. Just like that.” He dropped to your legs, kissing your clit softly as he lapped up your juices.

You grinded softly against his tongue, attempting to push his head away. He turned the vibrator back on, placing it against your sensitive bud as his tongue fucked you. You cried out, begging him to stop as you felt the overstimulating pleasure build in your cunt. Little did you know, Wooyoung was far from done with you. He loved to play with you, tease you, see you reach new highs with his little mind games.

He turned the toy up a notch, pressing it harder against your clit. He moved it up and down, watching as you fell apart in front of him. This is exactly what he wanted, to undo your sweet soul just by his touch.

“So cute when you listen.”

Wooyoung grabbed the remote, pausing the movie and turning up the setting just one more time. You let yourself go another time, his tongue licking up the warm liquid that spilled out of you.

“Mm.. taste so good. Can’t wait to fuck this pretty cunt of yours baby.”

back to valentines masterlist

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