#eye focusing issues? right side
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researching the anatomy of the lower back/pelvis/legs/feet to try to figure out what the FUCK is causing my sciatica bc dear GOD am i in agony rn
#it has been!! so bad lately!!#as SOON as i get back from the island im gonna try to see a dr abt it again#its been long enough since my last Traumatic Healthcare Experience that my desperation outweighs my aversion#it feels better when i walk on it but like. fuck. its 5 in the morning and im supposed to be SLEEPING#what am i supposed to do just pace in my room for hours until it goes away??? 😭#i think someone should simply laterally bisect me and throw away my right side#just throw it directly in the trash#literally all my problems are on my right side#tension headaches/migraines? right side#eye focusing issues? right side#earaches? usually right side#fucking. shoulder EVERYTHING? right side#chest pain/weird rib pain? right side#lower back pain is usually bilateral but whatever#sciatica? right side#all the way from my pelvis to my foot#dont even get me started on my right ankle#fuck that thing#foot pain is bilateral too#anyway#yeah#im left handed i dont need a right side just fuckign. get rid of it#godddd i hope my painkillers kick in soon i want to dieeeeee
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Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3
Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love
Astarion:
He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.
Gale:
He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.
Halsin:
Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.
Karlach:
She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.
Lae’zel:
Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.
Shadowheart:
Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.
Wyll:
You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.
#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 imagines#bg3#bg3 imagine#gale x reader#astarion x reader#halsin x reader#karlach x reader#lae'zel x reader#shadowheart x reader#wyll x reader#gale imagine#gale of waterdeep#astarion imagine#astarion ancunin#halsin imagine#bg3 halsin#karlach imagine#lae'zel imagine#shadowheart imagine#wyll imagine#gale bg3#astarion bg3#karlach bg3#wyll bg3#wyll ravengard#lae'zel bg3#gale x tav#astarion x tav#halsin x tav
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Don't Call Me Kid - prologue
(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 3k words)
series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
Your mom called you a late bloomer, and even though you always hated the way she said it, so full of pity and condescension, you couldn’t argue that she was wrong. You were a late bloomer, physically and socially. Your whole childhood and into your teen years, you were painfully insecure, so you tended to hide and shy away from situations that would stretch your comfort zone. You had a good childhood growing up on the ritzy side of the island. But nothing ever felt…complete. You always had this nagging feeling that something was missing, or rather, that you were missing something.
Your older sister, Carter, was the exact opposite of you. She knew who she was from the day she could walk. She developed physically years before you did, even though she was only 18-months your senior. In school, Carter was one grade ahead of you. Everyone knew her, and everyone loved her. She played sports, won class president four years in a row, and was the obsession of every boy in every grade. She was the best known girl on the island, and you were best known as Carter’s sister.
All of these things should’ve been reasons for you to resent her, for the two of you to compete and grow a bitter rivalry, but you were best friends from the start. Carter never made you feel left out or left behind, folding you into her friend group from the time you were kids.
Your mom didn’t have to force Carter to invite you to hang out with her friends, it was always Carter’s idea, dragging you to parties and begging you to keep her company, even though you knew she didn’t need it. She would encourage you to put yourself out there, to leave your books at home and jump in on the fun, assuring you that everyone wanted you around just as much as she did. Carter always saw something in you that you didn’t see in yourself.
From middle school on, Carter casually dated just about every guy in your friend group - Topper, Kelce, several others. She never committed, and they were all fine with having her for just a little bit. There was only one boy she never gave the time of day. The one that she knew was off limits, without you ever really having to tell her, it was just understood.
You had been in love with Rafe Cameron since the moment you first saw him. He was a year above you, in Carter’s grade, and his family lived down the road from yours. You met him on the school bus your first day of kindergarten.
You were so nervous, your mouth going dry as all the kids on the bus looked at you with judging eyes, but Carter just grabbed your hand and pulled you along with her, plopping you into a vinyl seat a few rows from the back. As soon as you sat down, a pair of blue eyes covered by floppy blond bangs popped up over the seat in front of you.
You noticed him right away, eyes wide as his sudden presence startled you, and your cheeks burned bright red for reasons that you didn’t understand yet. The boy didn’t notice your blushing, his attention fully focused on Carter as he reached his hand over the seat and pulled at her braid.
“Quit it, Rafe!” Carter swatted his hand away.
The boy, Rafe, smiled, a small dimple creasing his cheek. You weren’t sure why, but you wished more than anything that he was smiling at you instead. After bugging Carter a little longer, his gaze finally shifted over to you and your eyes shot down nervously to your lap.
“Who is that?” Rafe blurted out, talking about but not to you.
You looked at Carter in panic, tongue-tied as you tried to stammer out your name, which you were struggling to remember. Carter noticed your look of desperation, you were so shy and she had gotten used to speaking for you.
“That’s my sister,” Carter said with pride. “She goes to school with us now.”
“Oh, hi,” Rafe said, polite but unimpressed.
“H-hi,” you managed to squeak out, tucking your hair behind your ears, which were burning red.
Rafe disappeared back into his seat. Carter looked at you, noticing how you were nervously biting your lip, your go to tick when you were nervous. She folded her hand protectively in yours and didn’t let go until she dropped you off at your kindergarten classroom.
This is how your interactions with Rafe would go for the rest of elementary school, and middle school, too. He’d ignore you most of the time, tossing you a word or a look here or there, and you’d melt into an absolute puddle everytime. Your tendency to blush at everything he did never went away, meaning everyone knew you loved him.
Your crush was common knowledge among your sister’s friends, hell among the whole school, but no one dared mention it or tease you about it, lest they tempt Carter’s wrath. But they knew, and you knew they knew, and you knew he knew.
As a freshman, you quickly became first in your class, taking sophomore math and science courses. You ended up in the same first and last period as Rafe, who always struggled in school. After a few weeks of chatting during labs and lending Rafe your notes, you actually started to feel like he had become your friend. He played every sport, and you were right there in the bleachers for every game. Sometimes, when he’d make a great play, he’d look at you in the stands and wink, making your whole body blush, feeling like the most special girl in the world. But then, on his next play, he’d wink at another girl or playfully bow to the cheer squad and it’d make you want to die, suddenly invisible again.
“He’s such a douche,” Carter would nudge you with her elbow, trying to downplay the moment because she knew you were crushed.
You dreaded the day Carter would graduate and leave you at this school alone. You weren’t friends with anyone in your own grade, it seemed the year you were born produced more mean girls and fuck boys than the one before it. Carter would tell you the girls in your grade were just jealous that you got to hang out with her class, but you always thought it was more that they didn’t understand you, and people tend to attack what they don’t understand.
Cassie Bryant was the worst of them. She was the Kook princess of your year, as pretty and popular as anyone could be. From early on, she mastered the art of being mean to you in a way that crushed your spirit but looked totally friendly to everyone else. She’d make backhanded comments like “the way you dress is so…interesting” or “you’re lucky you have so much free time to study, I’m way too busy.”
She was even worse when Rafe was around. It was like Cassie had a radar for when he was finally giving you some attention, and the second you felt comfortable, she’d be there playfully stealing his baseball hat or pouting at him and saying “Rafey, do you have a J?” Then as she pulled him away, she’d laugh at you and say “it’s okay, we know you’re too cool to smoke with us.” No one saw the smug look she’d shoot you as she hung on his arm. You’d try to explain to Rafe why her words hurt you, but he never understood. He’d just shrug and say “that’s just Cassie, she has no filter.”
At least Carter believed you.
“Pick-me bitch,” she’d spit as she watched you watch Cassie steal Rafe away yet again.
You and Rafe saw each other every day. You’d tutor him for tests and help with his homework, you were in advanced classes and he had to retake most of his credits. He’d call you “Einstein” and “smarty pants,” always finding a way to address you without actually using your name. You never thought much of it, convincing yourself that his nicknames were coming from a place of affection. When he wasn’t copying your homework or convincing you to stay up after all of your work was done to help him with his, you found other ways to feel needed. You’d bring him lunch from his favorite spot when he got in-school suspension, bake him brownies before his big games, and give him rides to all his practices since his dad took away his truck so often.
Every afternoon at 4:45, you’d stop by the gas station across from your school and get a Redbull and protein bar for him, and a bag of your favorite candy for yourself. You’d park by the field house, waiting in your car with his snacks for sometimes a half-an-hour before he decided to stop messing around with his friends and head out. When you’d give him his snack, he’d kiss your cheek and say, “thanks, kid.” Even though it wasn’t really meant to be romantic, you lived for those moments when you could pretend you were his girlfriend, smiling at the way the cheerleaders eyed your car judgmentally when you pulled out of the lot with the Rafe Cameron in your passenger seat.
“He’s just using you,” Carter would say when you got home.
“No he’s not,” you’d shrug, “we’re friends.”
“Sure,” she rolled her eyes.
Even if Rafe broke your heart everyday, you were fine with it as long as he put it back together the next with some small gesture that made you hope…maybe someday.
Then, in the spring semester of your junior year, his senior year, you were parked outside the field house like usual after one of his baseball practices. You saw his figure emerge from the brick building, his hair wet and clinging to his forehead. You smiled wildly, your heart fluttering every time you saw him, even after all these years. You got his snacks out and set them on the seat for him, ready for your daily thank you.
But he didn’t head for your car like usual, instead he veered toward the group of cheerleaders gathered on the other side of the lot. You frowned, eyes furrowed as you watched him approach the gaggle of girls. When he reached them, he grabbed one of their hands and pulled her out of the huddle. Your heart sank when you realized who it was.
Cassie giggled as Rafe pulled her toward him, the other girls in the circle laughing and catcalling toward them. Clearly everyone in this parking lot knew something you didn’t.
And then he kissed her.
Rafe pulled away from the kiss, hands still on Cassie’s waist, and watched with confusion as your car peeled out of the parking lot without him.
You didn’t speak to him the whole next week, but he was completely oblivious to your heartbreak, still texting you as if nothing ever happened.
Thursday, March 23rd
Hey kid, u coming to my game tomorrow? u know I need my good luck charm Read 11:03 pm
Sunday, March 26th
Babyyyyy in drvnk at top’s pick me upppp? :( Read 2:17 am
Tuesday, March 28th
yo dude u got the hw packet done for precal? I’m screwed for tomorrow Read 9:56 pm
You’d stare at the messages for a long time before shoving your phone in your desk drawer or turning it off all together, but always made sure to open the message so he’d know you read it.
Then you’d cry yourself to sleep.
Carter would sit in your bed each night, rubbing your back comfortingly, pissed that she couldn’t do more to save you from this hurt, muttering under her breath about how she was gonna kick his ass.
After only a week of unreturned texts and trying to get your attention at school with no luck, Rafe went silent. You thought you’d make him sweat for a few weeks before forgiving him, enough time to show you he cared that you weren’t speaking, but then he did the exact opposite.
“It’s for the best,” Carter tried to convince you.
Maybe she was right. After you no longer had Rafe in your life, you threw yourself into your schoolwork. You had always been smart, but now that you were more focused on yourself and not him, you were acing every class, top of the honor roll.
The gang all went their separate ways after graduation. Rafe to UNC Chapel Hill, Carter to Duke, Topper and Kelce to U of Florida. With your sister and her friends gone, you spent senior year alone, but opened acceptance letter after acceptance letter. Rafe faded slowly from your mind as you dreamt out your future.
Eventually you got the letter you were waiting for, your dream school. The day before you left the island, you promised yourself you wouldn’t miss out on the college experience the way you missed out in high school.
Then, hundreds of miles away from home, something miraculous happened. Far from the memories of your lonely childhood and Rafe Cameron, you bloomed. You made friends early on, feeling like you may have finally found your people in academia. You picked up intramural sports, now you were the one scoring goals and spiking balls and waving smugly to all your friends in the stands. You dated, and you dated. Never settling on one guy too long, having too much fun to tie yourself down.
Things just clicked so much easier, no longer living in your sister’s shadow, far enough away from all the shy girl stereotypes to explore and figure out who you were on your own terms. And slowly, all thoughts of Rafe Cameron faded from your mind. You only thought of him when he made cameos in your dreams, the high school nightmare variety - late to class, showing up naked on accident, a test you forgot to study for, and Rafe in the parking lot kissing Cassie Bryant. You’d wake up cursing your subconscious and feel off for about half a day, before your fast paced routine in your new city erased his face from your mind again.
You changed physically, too. Though you didn’t really feel any different, Carter would make comments every time you came home for a holiday or event.
“Damn, bitch,” she’d say, looking you up and down and wolf-whistling.
“Shut up,” you’d roll your eyes, feigning annoyance when it really made your confidence soar.
She’s just being a supportive sister, you’d tell yourself, clinging to the same insecurity you’d had your whole life. But she wasn’t the only one, boys noticed you now a way they never used to. You hooked up with enough guys to start to feel comfortable with the attention, but whenever you’d draw eyes at college parties or lecture halls, your cheeks would still go bright red, never quite figuring out how to turn off that particular mannerism.
You were almost done with your third year, a plane ticket to head back to North Carolina for Carter’s graduation already purchased. One night, as she showed you options for her graduation outfit on Facetime, she casually threw out, “some of us from Kildare are going to Miami to celebrate graduation.”
“Oh?” You said, not really listening, going over a term paper with a red pen for the fifth time.
“You should come…” she was nervous, trying to say it casually enough that maybe you might not overthink it and just say yes.
“Wait sorry, come where?” You put down your pen and actually looked at the screen, knowing she hated when you were listening without really listening like this.
“Miami,” she repeated. “A few of us are getting an Airbnb on the beach for a week after finals.”
“Who’s us?” You asked.
“Oh y’know,” she started listing names of her old friends, a lot more people than you expected, your throat tightening with a social anxiety you hadn’t felt in years at thought of being in a room with that many people from high school. “...Jack, Maddie, Sabrina. Topper and Kelce obviously,” she continued, at least ten names deep, going quiet for a moment before adding “...and Rafe.”
“No.” you said simply, propping the phone back up and returning to your paper.
“Oh, come onnnn,” she whined, not at all surprised by your response. “It’s been four years, and you’re thriving now! You can just pretend he’s not there.”
“Yes, exactly,” you snarked at her. “Just as I’m finally thriving, you want me to spend a week stuck in a house with Rafe Cameron. That makes sense.”
“You and I will hang out on the beach the whole time, we don’t even have to talk to him,” she reasoned. “And he can just sit in the corner and look at your hot body and feel like shit for being such a dick to you in high school.”
You laughed a little despite yourself. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that wished he could see you now. Even though you stayed away from Kildare as much as possible and barely went out when you were home, terrified of running into him, you also dreamt of a time you would see him again. New look, new confidence, new you.
“Hah! You’re thinking about it aren’t you?” Carter said smugly, interrupting your thoughts.
“Maybe,” you said, turning back to your schoolwork.
“I’ll take that as a yes!” she cheered victoriously.
“Or you can take it as a maybe, which is what it is,” you corrected her.
“Pleaseeee?” She begged. “It’s my graduation trip! And I don’t want to be there without you.”
You sighed deeply, weighing all of the pros and cons as you bit your lip. Carter had always been there for you, and if it was so important to her that you make this trip, it was really the least you could do. Plus, she was going abroad for grad school in just a few weeks, and you knew it would be your last chance to spend time with her for a while.
“Fine…I’ll come,” you finally conceded.
“Yay!” Carter yelped. “Best trip ever!”
“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Best trip ever.”
(Chapter 1)
a/n: hi, i'm nat and i've struggled with body image and anxiety my whole life and I have been the victim of countless unrequited loves, particularly in my teen years, though the sting never really goes away. writing this series has been really personal to me so far, and i'm having a great time. I hope you like it. ♡
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fic#obx fic#drew starkey#rafe obx#rafe fanfic#rafe fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#obx#outer banks#outer banks fic#topper thornton#x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff
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Independent
~10.6k words
From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.
Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.
Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.
Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.
Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍
Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.
She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.
Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.
“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.
She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”
*
Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.
It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.
Which was fine by Harry.
He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.
Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.
She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?
A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”
“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”
He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.
Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”
“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.
“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.
He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.
*
But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.
Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.
“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”
“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.
“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.
Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.
“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”
Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.
Her cheeks turned bright red.
“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”
Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”
The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.
This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”
Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.
“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.
“Water’s included.”
“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.
“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.
“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.
“In-unit washer and dryer.”
“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?
“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.
“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”
“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”
“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”
She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.
But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.
*
True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.
There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”
She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.
“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”
“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”
He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”
That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.
She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”
“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”
“Offer stands,” she assured him.
Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.
She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”
“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.
“Oh, I can take—”
“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.
“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.
“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.
When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”
“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”
She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”
“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”
Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.
*
Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.
Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?
Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.
No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.
It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.
He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.
But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.
She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.
“Yes,” he nodded.
“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”
“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.
*
Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.
But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.
She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”
“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”
“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”
The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”
She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”
“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.
“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”
He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”
“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”
He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”
“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”
“Course.”
They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” she smiled.
“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”
“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”
“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.
“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.
*
“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.
“Me?”
He chuckled. “Yes, you.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”
“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”
Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.
“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”
“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”
“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”
She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”
“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.
“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”
“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.
“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.
“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”
*
At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.
He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.
Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.
Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.
Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.
*
“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.
It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.
“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.
That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.
“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.
“Lint roller!”
They all called out items and she had every single one.
“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.
Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.
“I get it,” he chuckled.
“If you need it, chances are she has it.”
“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.
Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?
*
Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.
“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.
“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”
“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”
“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.
“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”
“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”
“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”
“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”
“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”
“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.
“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.
He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.
“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.
She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.
“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.
“Thanks, Poppy.”
*
Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.
Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”
“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”
She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.
Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.
The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.
She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.
After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.
“Are y’cold?” He asked.
She shook her head.
But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.
But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”
She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.
Harry really enjoyed holding her.
*
At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.
Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.
“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.
Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.
She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”
He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.
She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”
*
For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.
He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.
It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).
Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).
She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.
He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.
She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?
She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”
It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”
She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.
He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”
She giggled and shook her head. “No.”
“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”
*
When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.
She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”
“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.
She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.
“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”
“Harry—”
“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”
She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”
Harry frowned. “So?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”
But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”
“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”
The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”
Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”
The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”
“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”
He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”
It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.
“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”
*
She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.
Even when she should have asked.
Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.
Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.
When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.
“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.
“Harry,” she protested.
“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”
“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”
“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.
She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.
“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.
“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.
It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.
It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.
*
Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.
Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.
Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.
Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.
The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”
Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”
“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.
Then, he started reading.
Out loud.
“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.
“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.
“You don’t have to—”
He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.
Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.
*
Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.
He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.
One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.
Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.
Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.
He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.
“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.
“Yeah?” She whispered.
If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”
“I can’t.”
“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”
She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.
His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.
Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.
For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.
Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.
Hope bloomed inside him.
*
She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.
All he did was make her soup.
She deserved so much more.
It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.
“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.
“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.
She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“You haven’t said no.”
"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.
Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.
“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”
She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.
"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.
She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.
As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."
A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.
"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”
*
Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.
He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.
Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.
It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.
Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.
“Harry?”
He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”
“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”
He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.
He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.
He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.
“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.
Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.
"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.
Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.
"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.
*
Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.
But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.
“Harry?” Her voice was raw.
“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.
“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.
He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing t’be sorry for.”
"I have issues."
"We can work on them together."
"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.
"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.
She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."
"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.
She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."
Harry nodded. "Well—"
"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."
It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.
Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”
She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.
"What, Poppy?"
"Do you love me already?"
"Of course I do."
She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”
“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.
He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.
“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"
“I’m in love with you too.”
--
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intertwined. | preview
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
setting: omegaverse!au, university!au
genre: angst, smut, some fluff
contains: yandere, estranged childhood friends to enemies to lovers, mentions of self-identity issues, dubious consent, obsessive behavior, loss of virginity, mutual(ish) pining, gojo is bad at expressing his feelings so he’s kinda a jerk, lovesick!gojo
summary: you just want to lose your virginity, no strings attached. how could you have known that gojo satoru is in love with you?
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
release date: tbd | ask for taglist if interested
-
“I want you to take my virginity.”
Satoru’s cocky grin wipes clean off his face. His stare goes blank and his jaw drops open comically wide. For the first time in the twenty-one years you’ve known him, Gojo Satoru is at a loss for words.
“We never have to talk again afterwards,” you add quickly, your cheeks starting to heat up in embarrassment. “This is just gonna be a one-time thing.”
Satoru is silent, expression tense as he observes you carefully. His crystal blue eyes seem to darken a few shades as he takes your hand in his. His thumb strokes once, slowly over the back of your knuckles.
“Just a one-time thing,” he repeats languidly, lips stretching into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Perhaps if you weren’t so focused on the rapid, frantic beating of your own heart, you would’ve noticed Satoru’s gaze wander—only to lock right on the clear patch stubbornly covering your neck’s scent gland. You would’ve seen the way his pupils dilate and his tongue swipes over his lips, with hunger written all over his face.
“Well then,” he all but rasps out, voice thick with desire. Without warning, he pulls your body against his with ease, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. Satoru rests his forehead against yours, letting out a groan that is too soft, too vulnerable, too intimate.
He’s so big, you realize. You can hardly believe that you once stood a whole head taller than him. Satoru towers over you, his lean frame completely dwarfing you. His large hands squeeze at your waist as he presses a barely-there, tender peck to your forehead.
You feel like you can’t breathe.
“I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, sweetheart.”
You’ve heard stories about what he’s like in bed; it’s inevitable that as the most desired alpha on campus, he’s gotten around. You don’t expect tenderness or care; if you did, Gojo Satoru is the dead last person to approach. You’re waiting for him to start man-handling you, tearing your clothes off, chasing after the carnal pleasure that only sex can bring. You’ve prepared yourself for that.
Instead, Satoru cups your pretty face between his large hands, running his thumb along your cheekbone. His blue eyes are a swirling pool of emotions, burning with not only lust but something deeper. “Been waitin’ so long for this.” His hushed whisper falls on deaf ears as he leans in to kiss you.
You let out a surprised squeak as his lips press against yours; this isn’t how things are supposed to go. You’re not here to play romance with Satoru—yet, the slow gentle kisses he’s giving you and the gentleness with which he’s holding you are cutting it too close.
“W-Wait,” you gasp out, pulling away to catch your breath. Satoru is panting too, cheeks flushed pink as he stares at you like a man dying of thirst discovering an oasis. His hand trails down your side to rest on your waist, pulling himself forward so he can drop his head against your shoulder. “What are y—“ your words die in your throat as you feel his nose nudge against the most vulnerable part of you.
“You smell so fuckin’ good…” His groan against your neck reverberates through your entire body, shaking you to your very core. Your internal alarm flares to life, blaring loudly in warning. You can’t even pay much attention to that, though, not when—
“Y-You do, too…” The words leave you before you can even process them. You knees feel like jelly as his scent washes over you, deep, musky and addicting. Satoru stiffens against you, huffing out a short breath of frustration.
“You’re gonna kill me.” You feel it. You feel his teeth scrape against the spot your mating bond would be. Satoru knows just as well as you do that you don’t have one, and that if you had things your way, that would never change. He teases the edge of the bandage covering your scent gland, rolling it between his teeth. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging nervously.
“N-Not there,” you protest, stumbling over your words in panic. Satoru pauses, and for three very long seconds, neither of you move. The only thing you can hear the is the pounding of your own heartbeat, his shallow pants against your neck, and the hum of the air conditioning.
He’s close, too close—you’re terrified of what he’s capable of, only because you don’t know if you can count on your own willpower to stop him. You’re slowly going limp in his arms, becoming nothing but putty in between his fingers—you’ve never felt so weak.
You hate how he makes you feel. You’ve always hated how he makes you feel. Weak. The world has always told you that you are. You’re nothing but a little omega whose only fate is to be a strong alpha’s obedient mate. You’ve fought back, resisted, protested—yet, Gojo Satoru has always managed to put you right back in your place.
This time is no different. Once again, you find yourself at his mercy. Your stomach boils with bitterness, with anger, with hatred… with longing.
Too slowly, he pulls away from your neck, only to lock eyes with you. “Right.” Satoru’s lips quirk into a crooked grin. “This is just a one-time thing, huh?”
You recognize that smile.
It’s the one that Satoru gave when he broke his mama’s favorite vase and blamed the cat. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he stole a candy bar from the store and got caught by the cashier. It’s the one that Satoru gave when he claimed you were no more than a stranger and left you to fend for yourself through high school.
He’s lying.
Far too late, you realize you’d made a big mistake.
-
author’s note: i can’t even lie this little word vomit was just a way to get some gojo thirst off my chest. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever get around to writing a full fic because i’ve been planning this in my head for weeks and there’s so much i want to include. yet i have too little time because of uni :(
if you are interested in being part of a taglist just in case i ever actually get around to writing the full fic, just let me know in the replies.
thank you for reading this far :)
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere gojo#yandere gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo smut#jjk x reader#yandere jjk
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Channeled Letter From Your FS
reading by @thesirencult
Pile 1
I'm not your regular cup of tea. I'm strong, forceful and focused on going after what I want and what I want right now is you. From the first moment I will lay my eyes on you it's game on. I will approach you boldly, you will be taken aback but then you will love the thrill of the chase. My, oh, my! You will be a hard catch, but I don't care, I will pursue you in a way no one else ever has. I'm not pursuing you tirelessly or trying to win you because of ego issues, but because even if I'm not sure about myself, I'm sure about you.
You are so amazing and so worthy of love that I will get over my fears and anxieties just to be with you. Love takes courage and risk and I have nothing but that! I hope that is enough for you, in the long run.
I'm not an "one hit wonder" though! I have stamina and will never let you down my love. I know that at first you will not feel the same about me, but I will win you over once you realize I'm not the tyoe of person to hit and dismiss, pardon me!
In time, I will come to know that you were scared to let me in because no one ever showed you unconditional love and gave you without expecting anything in return. "You are the breath that I breath, you are my one lucky star..."
I'm the one who does what needs to be done. I'm a go-getter who goes after their goals. An endless flame burns within me prompting me to do my best and to take risks. I charge full steam ahead and I'm very passionate. You have not met me yet cause I'm doing "side quests" to grow and mature, so I will be ready for you.
Take care princess!
Pile 2
I'm not the best at expressing my feelings through words, although in our relationship, I will do my best to show you have precious you are to me, words will never feel enough to convey the feelings.
I'll start with this one though: You were my last hope. Your love broke all my defenses and woke me up from my slumber. How could I ever live my life thinking that I was okay being by myself, all alone in the cold embrace of the shadows while you were right there, so close to me, warmth radiating off your skin and warming up my heart. "One last time..." I thought. "I'm willing to risk it all again for her. It will either be my biggest heartbreak or the love of a million lifetimes."
You found me while I was trying to rebuild myself and mend my wounds. In reality, I healed more by your side than I coukd have ever healed on my own. You cultivated a safe space for me to open up and share my inner world with you. You made me the man I'm now.
I trusted my intuition and went after you. I never doubted our connection, just the nature of it. Were we better off as friends? But look at us, we are best friends, lovers, family and soulmates! I risked losing you to gain more of you, although, more is never enough. You consume my thoughts each and every day. I smile on my own at work and forget what I was doing while I think about you and your smile and your voice and your sweet words and kisses. This has been going on for a while, I must admit... It has been happening since our first interactions. I wanted more and more of you, begging the Universe to let us live out our fairytale. The moment I surrendered to your whims and love was the moment I freed myself from the prison of loneliness.
"You did your best!" you always tell me with a smile and I agree because you make it sound like it's not that big of a deal. That's what you said when I told you I couldn't help but fall in love with you and indeed, I did my best, the best I could have done. You outsmarted your opponent with your sweetness and I came bare to a battle I should have come prepared. I don't care though. I love the way you think and how smart you are. I love how you never let anyone or anything get between us and how your smile lights up a room. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you are thinking of something naughty or when you are trying to seduce me and influence my thoughts. I always let you win, cause I got the best prize once and I don't need any more victories.
My prize is sitting on the couch right now, wrapped up in a blanket, pregnant and with a dog lazily sleeping by her feet. Our friends just left from the dinner we held in the house that we built. A house that will host many more oarties and celebrations, but also many more quiet nights that we will be slow dancing in the kitchen to oldies playing in the background. I wish everyone got to experience that type of love just for a moment, they would never doubt this magical force exists and I'm lucky, because my wife is full of it.
Thank you for everything my love. I'll do my best!
Yours forever and always and for each lifetime, x.
#astrology#tarot reading#pick a pile#pac reading#pick a card#tarot#level up journey#pick a photo#soulmate#pick a picture#future spouse#channeled message
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Night Reveries || F1 Dilfs
cw: vulgarity, pure obscenity, consensual somnophilia, soft approach, fetish for compliments, body worship — reader receiving —, use of pet names, dirty language, fingering, eating p-, p in v.
requested ( x ) yes ( ) no
by: anon
a/n: Unfortunately the epilogue of Moon Spell isn't coming out the way I want and I'm very, very angry about it nothing is going the way I want and I can't finish Moon Spell just any way, so I'm going to move up the requests I have, After all, an empty mind is the devil's workshop and I'm not going to let the devil work in my head.. I hope it met your expectations, it's been a while since I've taken orders.
p.s.: suggestions on how to finish Moon Spell?? Plsss
starring: Toto Wolff, Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Jenson Button, Mark Webber, Kimi Raikkonen.
TOTO WOLFF:
The day was dawning when he resolved all the pending work issues, he was so focused on getting everything organized that he didn't even notice the tiredness in his body, but when he finally finished, could feel how tense and sore his shoulders were. He closed his laptop and left his eyes on the desk. Toto wouldn't be available to anyone for the next few days, except his wife, who was sleeping peacefully at the end of the hallway.
Lazily, he dragged himself to the guest room's bathroom, where you and Toto usually left a few pieces of clothing for situations like this, where they ended up working late and didn't want to disturb each other's sleep. Toto put on some light pants and went to the suite he shared with you, and there he found you, sprawled on his side of the bed, wrapped in his pillows. He felt his heart warm at the sight and decided to lie down on your side of the bed and wrapped his arms around your waist, you gave a satisfied sigh and snuggled into him, making Toto feel all your soft curves, he breathed into your neck, feeling your perfume and He ended up grunting when you pressed your ass against his hip, without interrupting your sleep.
He buried his face in her neck, feeling filthy from the thoughts he was having, he couldn't stain the innocence of her rest with his perverse desires, but it didn't make it any easier to have her ass against his dick. God, it made it seem like you hadn't had sex in weeks, when he had made you cum just the morning before.
You moved completely in his arms, and turned to lie facing Toto, wrapping your leg around his waist, fitting yourself as best you could into the larger man's body, making Toto growl softly. Just when he thought it was going to get better, you made it worse, because now Toto's cock was right under you, hardening even more in your heat.
“mein gott” He groaned, pressing you tighter against him. How selfish would he be to wake you up just to fuck you?
It was better to try to sleep, to ignore the stinging heat building in her stomach and the moisture that escaped from your panties and stained his pants. What the hell had he done to be tortured like that?
But his ramblings were thrown into space when he felt you mount him, moving your pelvis against Toto, he took advantage of the consent you had given him and He pulled the lace of your panties aside, he couldn't see, but he would give you all his money if you weren't glistening with wetness.
“It’s almost a sin to waste such a feast, schatz,” he said, licking his lips. Toto got rid of his cotton pants and rubbed his cock against your pussy, drawing cute moans from you, he held you by the waist, high enough to reach your breasts so you could ride him. “You’re dripping in me, fuck,” and with that, he entered you slowly, stretching you around him, his grip making him bite his lip until it bled. In slow, gentle thrusts, he managed to hit her cervix over and over again.
“Toto? What are you-” you fell silent as you felt the thrust harder, hitting sensitive spots on you. “Toto...” you moaned, grinding yourself into him.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, love, I’ll take care of you,” he assured, letting you enjoy what he wanted to give you. You moaned again, digging your nails into him.
It wasn't selfish if you wanted it too, right?
SEBASTIAN VETTEL:
Six weeks, three days, nine hours, twelve minutes and thirty-one seconds.
This was the time that you and Sebastian had not seen each other, the racing season was in full swing, Seb was still at the top with an impeccable performance, and your job didn't allow you to accompany him on his trips. All this distance was driving you both crazy, he couldn't wait to be home again, enjoying the two weeks of summer vacation allowed. He couldn't even think about anything other than you, nothing else was occupying the pilot's mind as he parked in the garage of the house you shared.
But since nothing was perfect, he had only managed to return in the middle of the night, it was around four in the morning and he would find you sleeping soundly. With that in mind, he went straight to the bathroom, since sleeping with you was all he had left. Sebastian took a quick shower and returned to the room wearing only a towel, to see you in nothing but his shirt, his heart clenched with the longing he felt for everything about you: your loud, spontaneous laugh, the way you frowned when you read, your unique habits. He missed the way you hugged him or ran your nails down his back. Of everything.
He put on a pair of sweatpants and lay down with you, at the same time you literally trapped him between your legs, thinking he was his pillow. Sebastian's hips fitted into yours, exactly where he needed them.
You sighed sleepily and moved your pelvis, rubbing yourself against him. He muffled his heavy breathing, wrapping his arm around your waist as you buried your face in his neck, as if the scent of his soap — that you wore every day he was away — would be different on his skin. He pressed you tighter against him, feeling you grind your pussy against his half-pumped cock.
“scheiße, puppe” (fuck, doll) he swore in German, biting her lip hard. “you’re not making this easy for me, love,” he murmured, holding you.
He took a deep breath, trying not to let it affect him any more than it already did, but feeling the familiar heat of your pussy against his cock was melting his neurons.
That was something common between you, you and Sebastian had already woken each other up several times with sex, and he considered waking you up this way.
But shit, it was too early for him to wake you up and there he was, hard as a rock and you were rubbing yourself against him without knowing it.
He tried to distract himself, not to think about you grinding against him, the wet spot spreading across his pants as you moved against him, your heat radiating off him, as if the sweatshirt was nothing between the two of you. Sebastian drew circles on her thigh, not even close to feeling as sleepy as he should, and slowly he slid his fingers across her skin until he reached the elastic of her panties and without much difficulty, Sebastian tore the seam of her panties, giving him easier access to her folds.
And by God, you were dripping.
He slid his fingers between your labia, groaning at how slippery you felt, accepting his touch so well.
“oh my god, baby, you’re killing me,” he said, playing with your clit, feeling you thrust your hips into him. “okay, okay, I got you, puppe.”
He gave up on maintaining his composure — if ripping your panties and fingering you wasn't already inelegant — and pulled down the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing, he used it as a relief when freed from the restraint of the clothing, he let you rub yourself against him, letting your soaking wet pussy lick his cock. You breathed heavily, moaning sweetly as she ground your clit against the glans of his penis. Sebastian helped you mount his cock, sniffing in your ear as you slid down his shaft until your hips were joined.
“like this, love” he slid until only the head of his cock was inside you, smiling evilly as you wiggled, still fast asleep. He thrust slowly, feeling you slowly open around him. “your sweet pussy already has the shape of my cock, doesn’t it puppe?” he asked rhetorically, increasing his thrusts as her moans became more frequent. You whimpered, digging your nails into his back, rubbing yourself against him, feeling the friction of his hips against your clit making you even more horny. You tightened around him and Sebastian literally growled in your ear.
“Seb” now you were wide awake, wanting him to go faster, harder. “Seb, mhmm, please”
“whatever you want, puppe, anything” Sebastian growled, this time the sound of the clash between you echoed through the room. “i missed you so much, baby.”
“me too, me too,” you stuttered, wiggling your hips.
You two didn't stop, not even when the sun came up in the sky, after all, you had weeks of longing to appease.
FERNANDO ALONSO:
He sat up in bed, in disbelief at what had just happened. At forty-something, Fernando had come in his sleep, just like a teenager going through puberty. If he wasn't so pissed off, he would have certainly laughed at how absurd the situation was, he looked at the state of his underwear, completely wet with cum; he could blame himself, mainly because his last thoughts before going to sleep involved you, in situations that couldn't be talked about at family lunch. So it was your fault.
You were the one who made him have a wet dream and made him cum while he was still asleep. He got up, furious with rage, and went to take a cold shower, to try to get rid of the heat that had taken hold of him, and even under the cold jet of water, nothing could lower his extremely hard cock. Quite the opposite, it only left him cold and angrier. “i don't have fifteen fucking years left to masturbate in the shower, shit” he complained to himself, feeling his cock throb and resting his head on the cold bathroom tile. Fresh memories of the dream came back to him, your soft mouth welcoming him so well as he fucked your throat until he heard you choke.
“Fuck” he complained, getting out of the shower, the cold water didn’t help at all, the only thing that would calm him down was you, sitting on him until you both came. He barely dried himself and went to the bedroom, finding you asleep between the blankets, you hated pajamas and any nightwear, so you slept almost naked, if it weren't for your panties. Fernando grunted as he climbed onto the bed, not caring about wetting the bed, he wanted to eat you, so that's what he would do, after all he had your consent since you started dating.
Somnophilia was your favorite fetish, much to his surprise.
He kissed your body sloppily, leaving small marks on your belly, thighs and breasts, but none of this interrupted your sleep, you remained asleep as if nothing was happening. Fernando bit and sucked your nipples until you spoke, nothing he could understand, then he continued, moving his hands down your waist until he got rid of your panties, the Spaniard opened his legs a little to look at your sex, slightly wet and that could get soaked in a few minutes with his mere touch. He dragged you to the edge of the bed and literally buried his face between your thighs, growling at the scent of you. No other woman had such an effect on him as you did, you could make Fernando excited just with your doe-like gaze, your scent then, drove him crazy.
He wasn't gentle, so what if you woke up? Then he would have an opportunity to fuck you hard, just like he did in the dream. Fernando grabbed her legs tightly, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her thighs and in the roughest way possible, he ate your pussy. Licks, sucks and even light bites were given, making you writhe in your sleep, he could hear your confused moans, but that didn't stop him, the pilot kept eating you until you were grinding on his face, wanting more kisses, more bites. You didn't care much about the pain, quite the opposite, you loved it when he was rougher.
“Nando?” you woke up confused, finding your boyfriend between your legs, his mouth still glued to your pussy. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you fell back onto the bed. “w-what hap-happened?”
“nothing,” he grunted without pulling away, you wiggled in his mouth, sighing in pleasure as you felt his tongue on you, where you needed it most. “I'm enjoying my privileges of being able to fuck my little whore whenever I want”
You trembled, about to cum, but he pulled away and pulled you to your knees in front of him, your face level with his hard cock. You looked at his hard penis and then at Fernando, he traced the outline of your lips with his thumb and stuck his finger in your mouth “suck”
And you obeyed, wrapping his thumb with his tongue, as if it were his cock in his mouth. Fernando got even harder, if that was possible.
“good girl” he praised before slamming his cock into her lips, “open your mouth for me, tesoro”
JENSON BUTTON:
Once again, you obeyed, and damn, who said dreams don't come true?
As he had done for years, Jenson woke up in the early hours of the morning to get some exercise, he liked to spend his time on the treadmill or hitting the sandbag in the small gym you kept at home. He lost count of how many times he called you to train with him, but you were not a morning person and you would never trade a few extra hours of sleep for morning workouts.
It was close to nine in the morning when he returned to the suite you shared, his plans were simple: set out some clothes, take a shower and let you sleep as much as you wanted, but when he entered the room, nothing went according to his plans.
Because, you see, Jenson had just had an intense workout and He was bursting with endorphins and serotonin, but none of that compared to the way his body reacted to seeing you sleeping. Clinging to his pillow, with the sheets piled up on her hips, wearing nothing but socks. Nothing special, right? Not for Jenson, fuck it, he didn't need much to get hard and ready for you, just like a boy in puberty.
He tried to push away the dirty thoughts that permeated his mind, not that the two of you were against somnophilia, but you had never actually tried it. He remembered an old conversation between you about achievable fetishes.
“being woken up with sex” he said simply and your eyes widened as you bit the straw of your gin and tonic, that made you think. You never stopped to think about that and the prospect of waking up to Jenson fucking you made you squirm in your seat. “what does that look like to you?”
“interesting, we can try it someday... but we need to establish signals so we can understand when this will be well received by the other person”
“fair, what do you suggest?”
Having a good night's sleep was the main point, and the absence of clothes, since you were both fans of pajamas. He took two long steps towards the bed and confirmed his theory by lifting the sheet, except for your socks (because you hated sleeping with cold feet), you were completely naked. He cursed in a grunt and Jenson felt his erection throb.
“fuck, peach” he cursed and kicked his sneakers away, and his workout clothes followed suit, he also threw the sheets away and gazed at his sleeping figure, your breasts crushed against his pillow, your pussy exposed by the position you were in. “and one more time i’m going to take your first time, peach” he murmured, wetting his fingers in his mouth before sliding them into your folds. you grunted but didn’t wake up. “relax baby, I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, and carefully, He made you lie on your back and spread your legs.
He rubbed your folds again, cursing as he felt your juices wet his fingers, making it easier for him to move against your clit. You were so responsive, responding so well to him. Jenson saw your chest fill with more oxygen, you gave a loud and long sigh at his touch on you, but none of that shook your sleep, on the contrary, you seemed to be far from waking up; he caressed your thighs before leaving small kisses down your breasts, abdomen and groin, no matter how many times Jenson saw you naked, you were still the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And he never seemed to get tired of watching, ever.
He lay down on the bed, feeling the sheets rub against his erection, eliciting a hoarse moan from him, all he wanted was to get inside you right away, but fuck, he'd be damned if he didn't taste you. He rubbed his hips against the bed and before everything became torment, he kissed your pussy and placed your legs over his shoulders. Jenson hummed at the taste of you on his tongue, and it seemed to fuel his hunger for you, he spread you open with his fingers and licked your clit until you whimpered in your sleep. Like an addicted man, he suckled your clit until the bud was swollen and shiny with saliva and stimulation, Jenson made sure to rub his mouth all over you, just like you did when you rode his face, using him to bring yourself to orgasm; his fingers played with your needy entrance, feeling you throb around his digits, eager for anything he could give you.
“holy shit, peach,” he cursed, licking you with increasing need, Jenson felt you wet his chin to the point of dripping onto the mattress. You were about to wake up, because your grumbling increased and all your attempts to close your legs were useless, Jenson was holding them as if his life depended on it. “you’re so fucking wet, can you feel how easily my fingers enter you? Imagine what it will be like when it’s my dick instead of my fingers.”
He spread his fingers inside you, making you arch your back and thrust your hips against him, your eyes flew open and you whimpered. Not that he would complain about being strangled by your thighs.
“Jense, fuck I-I was-” your voice trailed off as he licked his fingers from your still-filled hole to your aching clit. “Oh my God, shit!” you swore, grabbing his hair and pushing him further against your pussy.
“was what, peach?” he whispered, kissing your folds as if they were his mouth, making you roll your eyes and grind against his mouth. “Huh?”
“i-it doesn’t matter” you breathed between moans “please Jense, please let me ride you” you begged him, shaking “I-I want to cum in you”
Jenson gave you one last lick before pulling his fingers out of you and giving your pussy a light slap, making you scream. He still took his time, fingering your folds, letting your pleasure completely cover his fingers. He pushed his fingers against your lips and you sucked every drop of your juices, moaning at the taste of you, making him groan at the sight.
“come ride me, peach” he pulled your thighs until you were on his lap, the pink head of his cock pressed against your clit, which made you both moan. You were close to cumming, He then, no need to say anything. “ride me until you cum, princess” he pushed his thick member against her throbbing hole. You moaned and he grunted, thrusting in until you felt the swollen head of his cock hitting your g-spot.
MARK WEBBER:
You wouldn't mind waking up early if that's how Jenson was going to wake you up.
He woke up with sudden movements in bed and it and it wouldn't be a surprise if you were in the middle of a nightmare, with your thesis approaching the final stage, you rarely had a peaceful night's sleep. But not that night, Mark caught a glimpse of the time on the clock radio, six thirty in the morning; he rubbed his eyes and prepared to wake you before you woke up in tears, however, a plaintive moan made him freeze in place, just looking at you sleeping.
“Mark... Please” you begged, still asleep. He watched your fingers twist the comforter and your legs close tightly. “Please!”
Your pleading voice made his hackles stand on end, he blinked in astonishment a few times until he came to the conclusion that you were having a wet dream. About him. This certainty made his blood run thicker through his veins, warming his entire body; you and Mark had an unspoken agreement, if one of you woke up with the other having this kind of dream, could and should move forward. Have you ever had the chance to wake Mark up with a blowjob or literally sitting on him sometimes, but the Australian has never had the chance to have you in his sleep.
If hearing you moan his name in your sleep hadn't already turned him on, the knowledge that he could fuck you while you were asleep did.
Fuck, if he wasn't feeling like a teenager there.
He carefully pulled back the duvet so as not to wake you and settled between your legs. The wet spot on your pajama shorts made him smile; Mark lay in the space between your thighs and pulled the delicate fabric away from its glossy folds.
“what do you need, doll?” he asked, sliding his fingers slowly into her pussy. A fun fact about people who talk in their sleep: will answer anything they are asked.
He saw your face scrunch up and he circled your swollen clit with his thumb, chuckling softly as he saw you jump.
“i-i want you,” he replied softly, still sleeping soundly.
“really?” he continued to tease the sensitive little spot, you trembled even more
“yes yes please” she begged him
“okay baby, anything you want” he ripped her shorts and covered her pussy with his mouth. He himself couldn’t contain the moan of satisfaction as he felt his taste flood his mouth. You were incredibly wet and his fingers slid easily inside you. You cried out at the suction on your clit and melted completely when he let his teeth roll lightly over the swollen bud. Mark watched as tears wet your closed eyes and you squirmed more, letting go of the comforter to grab his hair.
“Mark!” you exclaimed, your back coming off the mattress and your eyes flying open, but they didn’t stay open for long. “f-fuck, so good!”
He hummed, letting go of your thigh to grab your breast over your shirt, you placed your hand over his, tightening the grip. You were close, your cloudy mind couldn't identify anything other than his mouth eating you with such desire and your orgasm growing in your stomach.
Whimpering whimpers escaped her throat as he pulled away, his chin soaked with her juices and his dark eyes shining.
“come sit on my face, doll” he lies down on the bed and you crawl on top of him. He hugged your hips and made you sit on his mouth, hitting exactly where you needed it, you held on to the headboard so you wouldn't fall on him, your legs went weak with each stroke of his soft tongue on your clit. You wouldn't last much longer.
He made you move, riding his tongue like it was his cock.
“Mark- baby, I-I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered, biting the inside of your cheek.
"come on doll, cum for me, go" he asked without taking his mouth off you and you gave in, your body shaking violently as you came in his mouth. It took all of Mark's self-control not to cum in his pants like a teenager. He felt rock hard and his balls ached with the urge to cum, but this moment was about you.
Always about you.
He carefully placed you on the bed and saw you smile, tired, the thin layer of sweat made you shine and he brushed away the strands of hair that stuck to your forehead.
“was it good?” he asked, watching the white t-shirt stick to her breasts, outlining the hard nipples.
“fucking very good, love” you replied breathlessly, but your tiredness seemed to evaporate when you saw the bulging mark of his cock against his pajama pants. “but it might be better” and you pushed him on the bed, sitting down exactly where he wanted you.
KIMI RAIKKONEN:
That was one way to wake up.
“i want you to fuck me while I sleep,” you had blurted out as he read the newspaper over breakfast. Few things could surprise Kimi Raikkonen, and you were certainly one of them.
He choked on the tea he was drinking and put down the newspaper, you were too focused on your own magazine to notice his incredulous look. How did you say things like that so naturally?
“what the fuck, Y/N?!” he said a little exasperated.
“why the surprise? I didn’t say anything out of the ordinary, Raikkonen,” you said, still focused on your magazine. He dropped the paper for good and ruffled his blond hair, becoming even more exasperated. “i really want you to fuck me while I sleep, I’ve always wanted to, but I’ve never trusted anyone enough,” you confessed, finally looking at him, “but I trust you and I want you to do this, as rudely as you can.”
Ever since then, your request has been plaguing his mind (both of them, to be honest), he couldn't distract himself from your words and whenever he actually stopped to think about it, he ended up excited. You really were a surprising little thing.
At night, you put on your cute pajamas, kissed him and didn't let him forget your request, giving him your best puppy dog look “please, Kimi, I want it so bad” and your lip trembled, making the request even more believable. “you have my consent to be as hard as you want, I will love it”
And with that, you rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly, leaving him awake with a hundred questions and an aching erection between his legs. Kimi watched the first few hours of your sleep, her mind still spinning around your request, if you wanted it, there was nothing wrong, right? You had assured him that you wanted it. But Kimi was still reluctant.
He never considered the idea of having sex with you while you were sleeping, nor did he expect you to want it. Who would have thought that behind her cute baby face was hiding a little whore who likes hard sex? He rested his head on the headboard, the clock indicated that it was past two in the morning.
He looked at you, your fluffy silk pajamas that hid nothing from his imagination, your soft curves, your sleeping face. You were driving him crazy.
“fuck” he cursed and kicked the covers away, watching you try to snuggle against him. Kimi saw your nipples harden from the cold, marking the delicate silk of the babydoll.
i want you to fuck me while I sleep
i want you to fuck me while I sleep
i want you to fuck me while I sleep
Your request reverberated in his mind as he watched you until the moment all fear left him and Kimi ripped your pajamas, dividing the silk into two pieces. Kimi made you turn over in bed, with your chest against the bed and your ass in the air, high enough for him to be able to fuck you in your favorite position.
He should have picked up on the signs that you weren't so innocent, that you didn't want to be treated like a princess. His beautiful little girl wanted to be treated like a prostitute, how could he refuse? Kimi grabbed your hips and brought your wet pussy against his mouth, humming with your taste, you let out a cute little moan, without waking up, Kimi loved your taste, loved knowing that no one else left you dripping like he did and all he had to do was give you a few kitten licks and you would lick his chin. He took his time, eating you out until your lube dripped. He ran his fingers through you, taking what he could and slid your juices onto the tip of his member, and without any shame, he thrust into you until there was no space between you both, his moan mixed with yours as you slowly woke up, with each raw beat of his hips against yours, your naughty smile grew. Kimi took your hands and pinned them behind your back, holding you while his cock hit all the right places inside you, you would wake up sore, used and happy. With his other hand, he landed a hard slap on your ass that would leave marks the next day and grabbed your hair, leaving you on your knees on the bed.
“is this what you wanted, pretty girl? to be used like a dirty little whore? just for my pleasure?”
Yeah, yeah, yeah Kimi!” She exclaimed, writhing for him to go deeper, but Kimi held her back.
“No, no, quiet”
“But Kimi-” she cooed, wanting more. And in response he landed a slap on her clit, which made her moan louder and roll her eyes.
“I told you to be quiet, or you won’t cum today.”
a/n¹: oh jeezz, this was 🔥
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.
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#f1 imagine#f1 smut#f1 headcanons#sawturn headcanons#sawturn#toto wolff x reader#sebastian vettel x reader#fernando alonso x reader#jenson button x reader#mark webber x reader#kimi raikonnen x reader#formula 1 smut
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how bout overstim with jongseong. like u and him had an argument (it was ur fault) so to make it up to him, for the first in ur relationship, u make the first move. teasing him the moment u two got in the car then seducing him even more when u got home, making him cum more than once and not stopping until he gives u his forgiveness
pairing: jay x reader
contents: reader takes lead, overstimulation, reader is a lil mean at the end, handjob, kissing, making out, pet name: baby, hopefully that’s all!
a.n: ty for the request! i had fun writing this and it ended up longer than i wanted it to be 😭 w.c 1.1k
deep down, you knew you were being irrational, overreacting over something that wasn’t even a real issue. but instead of apologizing, you just grew more frustrated, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.
the drive home was quiet. jay’s usually easygoing demeanor had shifted into a defensive silence, and you could feel the distance between you growing with every minute that passed. jays knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, and his brows furrowed as he drove. you took notice of this, guilt immediately creeping in.
“jay,” you trailed off, but he didn’t respond, eyes staying focused on the road in front of him. you reached out, hand landing on his thigh. his eyes darted to your hand for only a moment before they were back on the road. “jay, i’m sorry. please look at me,” you pouted, but jay wasn’t letting up. you internally rolled your eyes. fine— if he didn’t want to forgive you, you would make him forgive you. your hand remained on his thigh for the rest of the ride home, ideas plotting in your mind.
when you finally got home, you immediately ran upstairs to slip into something a little more comfortable. you grab one of jays t-shirts, stripping yourself of your own clothes and replacing them with it. you hear his footsteps approaching, and your plan immediately sets into action. you quickly scurry over to the bookshelf, leaning up on your tippy toes as if you were trying to reach something, allowing his t-shirt to ride up, exposing your plump ass. the door opens, jay’s presence filling the room immediately. his breath catches in his throat when he first notices you, eyes scanning up and down your figure. he begins to approach you, and just when you think he’s going to stop, he continues his strides straight past you and into the bathroom. well that didn’t work.
you huff to yourself, arms crossing as you sit yourself on the edge of the bed. you hear water running and use this time to devise another plan.
some time passes before jay is out of the bathroom, and here goes plan b. jay comes out in nothing but his boxers and a t-shirt, coming over to settle on his side of the bed. your eyes follow his every move, yet his don’t meet yours once. “jay,” you pouted, “please look at me.” you were practically begging at this point. when he doesn’t respond yet again, you crawl over to him, perching yourself atop his lap, legs straddling either side of him. he has to look at you now.
his eyes only meet yours for a split second before he’s looking down, as if you weren’t even there. you lean in, placing a kiss on his cheek and down his neck. "please, baby.." your tone is desperate, but there's a dominant fire in your gaze. sinister thoughts clouding your mind. he still doesn’t reply, but he moves his head slightly to one side, letting you have more access to the skin of his neck. you smirk to yourself; you knew he couldn’t resist you. your hands trail up his stomach to his chest, ultimately perching on his shoulders as you feel him up. your lips work expertly on his neck, moving to kiss and suck at his adam’s apple. this causes a small groan to leave jays lips, a tent beginning to form underneath his boxers.
your plan is working. you lips trail back up to his face, stopping right at the corner of his mouth before pulling away to devote your attention elsewhere. your hands leave his shoulders, fingers dancing down his torso and stopping at the waistband of his boxers. you toy with the hem, teasing him, hoping to get another reaction out of him. you feel him tense up underneath you as your fingers dip underneath to pull down the garment. his breath hitches in his throat when his rock-hard cock springs free, a light blush coating his cheeks, obviously embarrassed with how easily turned on he was.
you chuckle to yourself, bringing your hand down to his cock. his hands fly to your thighs once you begin stroking him slowly, fingertips digging into your bare skin. you sigh as you continue stroking his cock, which is pulsing underneath your touch. “you’re mine. only mine,” you coo as you bring your thumb up to swipe over his sensitive tip, applying light pressure. his hips buck into your hand. “do you honestly think i could possibly want anyone else when this is what you do to me?” jay finally speaks up, sighing as pleasure takes over his senses. your head snaps up, surprise and accomplishment filling you as you realize you finally got him to properly acknowledge you.
your strokes on his cock have quickened, bringing him over the edge faster than he’d like to admit, and as his hips buck into your hands and his cum shoots out onto your hand, you don’t slow down one bit. his hips stutter, his fingertips digging even harder into your skin as whines start to escape his lips. “y/n,” he breathes, “t-too much.”
you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, ignoring him completely while you continue your ministrations on his length. his head is thrown back; overstimulation is oh so apparent. he can’t control how quickly he cums all over again, thick white ropes coating your hand, but you don’t mind the mess, once again not giving him a break as you continue to stroke him. tears begin to form in his eyes as a choked sob leaves his lips. “y/n, p-please, i forgive y-you,” he pleads. satisfaction coats your lips, but you aren’t ready to let up yet, recalling his stubbornness with you earlier.
“cmon baby, you have one more in you, don’t you?” you coo, a smirk splaying on your lips as you reach up with your free hand to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. you slow your movements just slightly, feeling a little bit bad for him as he shakes beneath you, pathetic whimpers leaving his lips. you lean in, capturing his lips in yours, giving him a distraction from the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling. it’s not long before he’s cuming all over again, hips stuttering as his legs shake and incoherent babbles fall against your lips. you finally remove your hand from his cock, pulling away from his lips at the same time. his eyelids are heavy, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are swollen. he looks so fucked out, and you love it. you cradle his head in your clean hand, caressing his cheek with your thumb.
“not nice to be ignored, is it?”
.
..
…
#evnseokz#✫ quinn posts#enhypen headcanons#enhypen jay smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen jay#jongseong x reader#park jongseong#jay x reader#jay smut#jongseong smut#enhypen jongseong#enha hard hours#enha smut#enha x reader#enha imagines#✫ quinn answers#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours
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Love Is Not My Right | Sukuna x M!Reader
W/C: 1.1k
#NSFW, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, reader is early thirties, sukuna is mid twenties, reader is a uni prof, sukuna is a uni student, DON'T SLEEP WITH YOUR PROFS IRL PLS THANK YOU, questionable relationship, smut, fluff, angst, self-deprecating reader, soft sukuna?, sukuna has daddy and mommy issues, not edited that much lol IT'S A DRABBLE STFU
tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork (SOZ IF Y'ALL HAVE ALREADY READ THIS HFOHGIOHG JUST REMEMBERED I DIDN'T ADD TAGS)
“Fuck, Teach,” Sukuna groaned. His hips pistoned against yours harder, accentuated by the sharp clap of skin meeting skin. He squeezed your thigh, the one of the leg thrown over his shoulder, before slapping the side of your ass as his head tilted back with a throaty groan.
You, on the other hand, were a trembling mess--and at the hands of your student, no less. Everything about this was uncouth as could be; Sukuna was nearly a decade your junior, he was in your class, and he had zero qualms about the fact that you were his professor. He saw you, decided he wanted you, and would therefore have you.
It was easy saying no in the beginning. He was a typical punk with sharp wit and a sharper tongue--many men like him had made passes at you in the confines of your classroom, but Sukuna had the smarts and charisma to back up his flirtatious remarks and daring whispers.
But, if you were being honest, maybe it was because you'd been engaged twice, un-engaged thrice (long story). Maybe it was because you'd been cheated on and dumped on loop. Maybe it was because you'd given up on romance and sex and everything else and–well, maybe that was why you succumbed to his advances. Maybe you were just sad and lonely, willing to be taken advantage of under the man's misguided thought that you'd give him a better grade if he fucked you good enough. You wouldn't. But he never asked for it, either.
You jumped when another sharp spank sent ripples of bitter pleasure and pinching pain fluttering across your skin. The simple feeling had you clamping down around the man and gasping.
“Itadori-kun–”
“What did I say?” Sukuna groaned, spanking you again and adjusting the leg hooked over his shoulder. “First name.”
Your eyes blurred slightly from the embarrassment and pleasure of it all. “I--but that's–”
“I'm ‘boutta cum in your ass, ‘n you're worried about honorifics?” Sukuna cackled, holding your thigh with both hands as he focused harder on moving his hips faster and faster. “‘M fucking you…in your own fuckin’ bed…and you're–ah–worried about–fuck, you're so fucking good--fuck.”
The searing friction eating you alive tripled in Sukuna's frenzy to reach his second high of the night. You burned alive, shyly crying out as he hit your soft spot over and over, tightening up more and more until you plummeted into your third (fourth? Fifth?) orgasm dealt by Itadori Sukuna's hand. Well, hand, mouth, and cock.
“Sukuna,” you gasped, curling into yourself and subsequently toward him, fisting one hand into his dark hoodie to try and ground yourself against the relentless assault.
His hips stuttered when you called his name. His lips crashed against yours, then, with teeth clacking together and tongue bullying into your mouth as he trembled and slammed in with too-much strength to pour his cum into your core.
“F-fuck. Love that sh-shit,” he stuttered as his stomach tightened and contracted, his eyes rolling back before they fell closed to indulge in the pleasure crashing down on him. But his body's seizing didn't stop his hips from moving–he kept pushing and pushing, hard and sloppy and weak but so, so desperate to jam more and more deeper and deeper into you.
Eventually, when you were both threadbare and burnt out, he pulled out and collapsed beside you with a pleased sigh. You hugged a pillow and fought to catch your breath, but Sukuna, the brat he was, tugged away your life boat to replace it with himself.
You sighed, baffled and exhausted. “Sukuna–”
“What? ‘M allowed to fuck you but not–”
“You–I–we shouldn't be–I shouldn't be doing this,” you argued. “You're too young, I'm your professor. You should be looking for people your own age–”
“Not like I fucking chose this for the thrill,” he scoffed, tucking his arm under his head as he looked at your tired face. “This looks bad on me, too. Looks like I'm tryna fuck good grades out of you.”
You huffed and fixed his hoodie's tangled drawstrings. “You already get good grades. No one would believe that.”
“‘M a fucking genius. Everyone knows,” he agreed with a smirk. “But the other extras in your class? They'll act like it's somethin’ else. They'll jump on whatever the fuck they can to make their own pathetic asses feel less guilty for sucking so hard at life.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help a smile. “Well, this'll look worse on me. Either you did fuck grades out of me, or I'm holding said grades hostage ‘n making you sleep with me lest they suddenly drop.”
Sukuna hummed and slid a hand to your bare waist. “Ho? I like the sound of that. Guess I'll have to try harder to make sure I stay your favourite. I could go for a 4.4."
“Please–don't roleplay that,” you begged, feeling more tired by the second. “Just promise me you'll move on and forget about this after finals. Please. It's in your best interest.”
“Yeah? ‘N what's in your best interest, Teach?” Sukuna wondered. His knuckles brushed against the curve of your cheek, and you felt your heart ache with loneliness. But you'd never admit you wanted this. You'd never admit you wanted a cure for being unlovable.
“Keeping you safe,” you said, pulling his hand from your face and squeezing it tightly, “Is in my best interest. I want you to be happy, to stay out of trouble. And this? This can only breed trouble.”
“Trouble ain't so bad.”
“Sukuna.”
“After finals, ‘m not your student anymore,” Sukuna reminded.
Your face got a little hot. “Don't twist this–”
“Twist it? Tch. It's just facts.” He looped his arms around your smaller frame and tugged you in close. “So I'm gonna keep taking my daddy issues out on you even after the semester ends.”
You had to laugh. “That's–you're a little too self-aware–”
“Pretty sure that's a good thing, no?” He yawned and tugged the blankets up over the both of you. “You're starting to piss me off with all the resistance. Just take it. Like how you take my cock.”
You sighed and sat up, pulling the blanket over the younger man more. “You have a dangerous mouth on you, y’know that?”
Sukuna smirked. “Like hearin' that from you.”
“Right. Well, I need to wash up.” You brushed his hair back against your better judgment. “You need anything?”
The look he sent you made everything ache more; it was something so warm and lazy, half-lidded eyes fighting to stay open as your tender touches lulled him to sleep. It was so strange, the apparent peace you brought to such an explosive soul. It almost made you think this could work.
“Jus’ make sure you come back,” he grumbled before letting his eyes fall closed. “Fucking kill you if you don't.”
You smiled the tiniest bit as you brushed his hair back a few more times. “Promise I will,” you whispered, earning a soft grunt of approval in return.
But as you sauntered to the bathroom, shedding whatever clothes you somehow still had on, you cried.
#male reader insert#sukuna x you#sukuna x m!reader#jjk#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#reader insert#ryoumen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk smut#jjk x male reader#jjk x y/n#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryoumen x reader#itadori sukuna x reader
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A letter from your Future Self 📜🪽
𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌?
𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅 ~ 𝒫𝓈𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈
Group 1
Okay guys for this group i am sensing your future self wants you to understand the importance of the unseen right now in your life, the unseen powers, the etheric guidance you receive, clairvoyant, intuitive hits. The power of the unseen forces in your life.Your future self is telling you that the apparent dead ends in your current road have an important and necessary purpose, they are meant to be. You have a vision, and its important you become more conscious about it, about your sense of purpose, some of you felt it since very young, and if not, try to know yourself more, to de depth to understand what drives you. All that is happening now, is leading you to your vision, and to your purpose here, and much more you cant yet see, this is the biggest theme here, being led to where you really cant see, all the detours, road ends, side paths... all is subtly and succesfully leading you to where you need to be. Some of you guys have important father issues, you have to acknowledge these issues and start healing them. You have to become your own parent, a nurturing one, and use the masculine energies to hold and support your vision. The masculine energy inside of us is very important, it also help us protect ourselves, defend what is important for us, sutain us and our projects, responsibility, etc. You need nurutirng, again, this is very important for you. The nurturing side of the archetypal father energy. You lack and need a strong healed masculine energy. Nurture, balance and heal the masculine in yourself, it will help you to find a suitable partner with healed masculine energies. you must allow changes to come to your life. you msut trust in the power of syncronity, in order to fruition your goals. For some of you guys, you are really encouraged on just focusing and working on your present time, your gudes are like, winking at you and just giving you the present moment certainty because its the only way you could make things work right now, everything else is blurred so you focus on what youhave to focus till the fog disappears! And a very different and exciting landscape will be in front of your eyes. Work on celebration, celebration of this present moment, gratitude, engage more with the people around you, finx excuses to gather or celebrate a party.
Thank you for reading dear group number 1 🤍 Lots of blessings 🦋see you in next PAC readings 🪽⭐️
𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅 ~ 𝒫𝓈𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈
Group 2
Okay guys, in this group, damn the messages are getting are so deep T.T. Your future self is calling for you to literally melt into oneness, in order to release, find divine acceptance, forgive, and then, let it go, let it fade into the light, let it destroy itself even. This is also a message of, closing the doors of past traumas, finding closure, in order to finally end them, to end the ways they influence your life right now, because they are not benefitting you. I keep hearing ‘’destroy’’. Maybe some of you have to give yourselves the liberating power of saying ‘’not again’’, of getting mad, of feeling the rage that initiates the fire to let all that that needs to be destroyed, burn. Rage initiates change. Sometime it is good and it is called sacred rage for a reason. Maybe some of you have supressed anger for a long time and, specially your true feelings for so long, trying ti behave, trying to react and behave in the proper way. For some of you this is a huge rock, tied to your foot that doesnt let you advance. How could you dance trhoguh life with such thing attached to your foot. It is time you claim your sovereignity, your power, it is time to do so and only you can do it. You are not meant to carry these stuff that holds you, you are meant to decide, choose for your life and embrace all your power, some of you are scared of that. Now for this group you are also encouraged to heal the mother energies, the mother wound, and integrate this aspect, healthily in your subconscious. Mohtering yourself, your inner child, the aspect of the mother energies that is capable of supporting you, holding you, loving you unconditionally while you are transiting this time is the one you need. You need not to feel alone and unsupported by yourself.
Your future self is telling you to call in the Queen archetype, the queen energies, the worthy, the one that knows her value, her deservingess, her power, she is sovereign, she chooses her own life, she knows what she wants, she has no doubts, she doesnt believe in ‘’no’’, i feel some of you in this group, restrict or have restricted yourselves a lot and your future self is telling you noooo dont do that. Embody this powerful archetype and believe all you want you can have and you will have because that is how the Queen believes so, eveyrthing is possible for her. Having a safe space is important but do not constrain yourself, do not put too many limits on yourself, for example you might be a bit shy, and you think it is okay etc, but at some point you will have to grow and for some situations you will have to need not to be so shy, it is just an example, it is not wrong to be shy, but the thing is that, for some of you, your path requires you to grow certain aspects for certain situations that you are not comfortable with.
Thank you for reading dear group number 2 🤍 Lots of blessings 🦋see you in next PAC readings 👑🍰
𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅 ~ 𝒫𝓈𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈
Group 3
Your future self is telling you is to stray from the enrgies of self judgment, be midnful how you use this archetype within you, if its limiting you. You are very wise, you have a lot of discernment, a lot of knowledge of the truth, but you need to stop the internal judge. And i am getting lush mountain vibes, you have to connect with your inner queen energy, again this archetype is coming up in this reading, like in the group two but in this case, this archetype might be less alien to you. You are called to own your sovereignity, self worth and the belief in your power and ability. You are called to do so, and to also find your own personal temple, some of the people on this group have gone trhough insane big internal changes, for you the time is for rest and restoration now. Your future self is telling you that you have worked so hard and that you need this period now. Your future self wants you to engage in more recreational, enjoyful non productive activities, stop working so hard for a while you deserve this rest and restoration. And very importantly, Love. Ahh love is essential, I feel the energies are telling you guys, that you are born warriors, you fight for your causes, it is in your core, however you are being called to, embrace the heart energies, connect to your dreams, connect to love. Not everything has to be a fight… put the warrior energies at rest. You have to understand what youre going trhough, face your shadow, your darkness. And love is a big theme here in the sense of, a positive influence that will come in your lives, you need to work on your relations, add more love into your life, allow love into your life.The big changes you went trhough or are going trhough are revolving your deepest roots. A need to reassess your fights, endeavours, a need to become more serious and awake about what is important to you, and to connect to your heart more and give it more space and presence in your life with healthy, meaninful positive relationships, let yourself love.
Thank you for reading dear group number 3🤍 Lots of blessings 🦋see you in next PAC readings 💘☁️
𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅 ~ 𝒫𝓈𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈
Alla 𓇬 @sirenmoontarot
#pac#pac reading#channeled message#channeled reading#tarot reading#tarotblr#oracle reading#free tarot reading#tarot cards#tarot#free tarot#tarot witch#free tarot readings#pac tarot#tarot blog#cartomancy#tarot pac#tarot community#marseille tarot#tarot pick a card#playing card divination#divination#free readings#free reading#pac readings#paid readings#energy healing#pendulum#pick a card#pick a pile
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The LaDs Men healing your inner child...
...they accidentally evoke your insecurities and comfort you.
❧ Part IV - Sylus - Tight Threads
Pairing: Sylus x You Synopsis: An ill-fitting dress triggers a panic attack during a date with Sylus. Word count: 963 Tags: sylus being a suggestive little tease, panic attack, body image issue, romance, fluff, comfort Side notes: Welcome to the last part of the mini-series! Fun fact: The plot (some parts at least) is based on true events, but unfortunately, there was no Sylus to comfort me back then 🫠 I refrained from going into details about MC's body type so that anyone can envision themselves in the role. A tight dress can be uncomfortable no matter the size and shape. However. Sylus loves you just the way you are! And with that, this series comes to an end. Thank you for reading 🩷 Part I - Xavier ❧ Part II - Rafayel ❧ Part III - Zayne
Ruby-red eyes gaze at you intently from across the round table as you nervously fidget with your dress. The restaurant he chose is even more lavish than you imagined and your nerves are on edge. In this dress that's way too tight and short, you feel as if you can't breathe, and you can't shake the impression that all the other guests are focused on your insecurities.
''Is everything okay, Kitten? You seem... tense.'' Sylus swirls his glass of red wine between his long fingers while you nervously shift in your chair. You blush as you suddenly feel his gaze on you and adjust your dress again. ''Sylus, I appreciate your invitation, but you didn't need to go this far.''
Maybe you should have mentioned that the custom-made dress didn't fit properly when he handed you the pink paper bag with it earlier. You remember standing in your bathroom, holding it up against your body and squeezing yourself into it while he waited in your living room—hoping he wouldn't hear you curse as you struggled to pull the zipper up at the back.
There was likely a mistake by the seamstress, but you still insisted on wearing it to honor his gift.
The silver-haired man takes a sip from his glass and leans back to make room for the waiter as he approaches your table with your orders. For him, it's just another evening in a high-end restaurant, but he has noticed that you're uncomfortable. ''If you'd prefer, we can move our date somewhere else. Would you like to leave?''
You shake your head as the waiter sets your plate down, unwilling to shift the date elsewhere. After all it's not his fault that the dress was poorly tailored, accentuating all the parts of you that you are self-conscious about. You grab your own glass nervously, hoping a sip of your drink will help calm your nerves. But instead, you both startle as you accidentally tip it over, sending it crashing to the floor.
"Oh dear, how clumsy." You hear whispers from a nearby table, accompanied by giggles, as the waiter gathers the shards from the floor. You can't help but feel sick as you cautiously look around, realizing everyone is staring at you.
Sylus's head immediately swivels toward the table of giggling women, and his serious glare silences them instantly. They sheepishly return their focus to their plates, poking at their food, and you could swear you saw a brief flash of red in his left eye.
But right now, you have other worries.
"Excuse me!" You quickly stand up from the table and hurry through the restaurant, heading to the restroom to escape. Your heart races as you crouch by the luxurious sinks, resting your head on your knees in an attempt to calm your quickening breath. A panic attack, of all times!
Just a few moments later, you hear the door to the restroom open, and someone approaches you slowly, crouching down beside you. Without looking up, you know immediately that Sylus has followed you. He lowers his head with a concerned expression and gently takes your hand. ''I'm here for you. What do you need?''
''T-The… the zipper…'' You stutter as you continue gasping for air, futilely reaching with your free hand for the zipper pull between your shoulder blades. Sylus follows your movement with his eyes and then yanks the zipper down your back in one swift motion. ''Calm, deep breaths, Sweetie. It'll get better soon.''
His rough, calm voice is soothing as he gently strokes your trembling back, careful not to overwhelm you with his presence. And finally, you feel the tension slowly lift from your body for the first time that evening as you take a deep breathe.
Sylus waits patiently beside you, continuing to stroke your back, and after a while, your breathing steadies. ''I'm so sorry… I've ruined the evening.'' You whisper weakly as he gently helps you stand up from the cold marble floor.
''Take off your dress, Kitten.''
Sylus doesn't answer immediately, giving you a moment to steady yourself before he moves closer with a charming grin.
Your eyes widen in surprise at his request, completely caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor as you look at him in disbelief. ''W-What?!''
Your heels scrape against the marble floor as you step back, feeling the sink behind you. This time it wasn't a panic attack that caused your heart to race in your chest! ''Here!? Now?? Are you serious!?''
''Dead serious.'' The attractive giant replies as he almost towers over you. It's only when he grabs a familiar-looking pink paper bag from the floor that his words make sense. Until now, you had been so focused on managing your panic attack that you didn't notice him bringing it into the restroom. He takes out your favorite jeans and a sweater, and hands them to you with a smug grin. ''I took the liberty of borrowing a few things from your closet before we left. I hope you don't mind.''
Surprised by his thoughtful gesture, you take the clothes and press them against your chest. He must have overheard you earlier in your apartment and snuck into your bedroom to get the clothes and empty paper bag while you were busy getting ready. ''But... what about the dress? This casual outfit would be completely inappropriate for a venue as expensive as this.''
You shift your gaze down to the dress, now hanging loosely from your shoulders. The zipper torn at the back. But Sylus shakes his head as he gently lifts your chin with his fingers so his gleaming eyes meet yours again.
''I don't care about that damn dress, Sweetie. You're the only expensive thing in this inappropriate venue. Remember that.''
Thank you for reading!
Cheri 🍒
#writercheri 🍒#cherimoyatea🍒#love and deepspace#love and deep space#love & deepspace#l&ds#lads#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x mc#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace fanfiction#love & deepsace x reader#love & deepspace fanfiction#writers on tumblr#lads fanfiction#lads fanfic#sylus love & deepspace#love & deepspace sylus
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Lieutenant Riley and his favorite thing (physio!reader) 18+ mdni - series crossover, alcohol, rough blowjob.
You've decided the Lieutenant is certifiable.
After he takes you home and babies you through your period, he disappears. You don't see him for weeks. The 141 is still on base, but he's turned into a ghost. The Ghost, you guess, the whispers circling around and around, twisting and turning into gruesome stories, long drawn out tales told between pints in a bar.
You don't see him, but there is something else. A feeling, a creepy, crawly sixth sense that comes from the sensation of being watched.
It's beyond weird. Like him.
The worst of it all is you find yourself looking for him now. Wondering about him. Almost wanting to know where he is, the question of why he hasn't come to see you again flourishing from a small niggling thought in the back of your mind to a full blown distraction.
It's unnerving. He's unnerving.
Because you don't want him, right? And clearly, since he's MIA for weeks now, he doesn't want you.
Right.
Your thoughts do stray though, to the night he tucked you in with a heating pad, the way he sat at the edge of your bed until you fell asleep, stroking rough, calloused fingers down your cheek when he thought you were completely out. He was murmuring under his breath, grit and grain in his throat impossible to make out, the sandpaper strain of it finally pulling you under.
Weird.
The weather is finally starting to turn. No longer boiling, the breeze is now crisp, and cool, a welcome reprieve considering the standard issue pants that suffocate your thighs at every turn.
You bask in it. Enjoying it so much, you're lost in breathing it in as you trek back to your place, not paying attention to where you're going-
until you physically run into another girl.
"Oh my god-" She bounces away from you, bag spilling over her shoulder, stumbling to the side. "Oh my god I am so sorry!" You snatch her by the arm, trying to keep her steady, and once she rights herself, she gives you a half panicked, half flustered look, eyes focused past your ears.
"It's okay, I'm okay." You recognize her. She's the big deal analyst, the one apparently flew in by the station chief. What do they call her? Cypher? She gives you a weak smile.
"I'm sorry," you apologize again, and she shrugs. "Really, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
"Oh," she looks down, "I do that all the time." Her fingers twist at the bottom of her jacket, gaze snapping back to your face after it leaves her feet. Something clicks in her eyes, some sort of recognition. "You're the physio." It's not a question. It's a statement, and the vowels turn downward, almost a hushed pitch. Weird.
"Um, yeah. My office is over there." You nod, and so does she. There's awkward silence for a beat, and you extend your hand, giving her your name.
"Right, Sorry." She smiles sheepishly. She is really cute, you realize, looking her up and down quickly. She returns the favor, giving you her name, but follows up just as fast. "- but most people call me Cypher."
"It's nice to meet you."
"You too!" She chirps, and then something catches her eye. Sergeant MacTavish of the 141. You blanche, trying to you school your face into a neutral expression. "Ah well, that's my... my uh..." she's flustered, words jumbled, before just giving up. "It was nice to meet you."
"Likewise." You call to her retreating form, but she's already out of earshot.
Weird. Again.
"He's so fuckin' annoying!" Your friend half shouts over the raucous pub, and you giggle.
"You're the one who dated him." You spit back, jostling your shoulder against her where you're both crammed into a corner table, two others still at the bar, getting another round.
You're drunk. You haven't stumbled into unreasonable territory yet, but the blood in your veins is thinning, world starting to wobble at the edges. There's no caution in you now, common sense quickly slipping away, but you're not worried. With four of you here, there's safety in numbers, and you're just off base.
"Alright, four tequilas," shots filled to the rim with golden sweet liquor slosh across the table, small plate of salt and quartered limes following. "Bottoms up."
Some guy across the room by the pool table lifts his pint to you as you swallow down the citrus rich burn, and your cheeks warm. Your friend leans in. "He's checking you out."
"No he's not."
"Without a doubt. He's practically-" she burps, and you laugh. "practically undressing you with his eyes. You should go over there."
"And do what?" Your focus shifts, remembering the Lieutenant stroking your cheek in the dark, surprisingly gentle but still rough on the edges. You shove it away.
"Talk to him!" She nudges, shoves, you with her hip towards the edge of the booth, and you hiss.
"Knock it off."
"No. You need to get laid. It's been years." She makes it sound like you're an old maid. "I know for a fact you haven't slept with anyone since you moved here. Time to dip your toes in, or at least flirt a little." Drunk, you're having a hard time combatting her badgering, and the insistence is shifting the tide, convincing you it's a good idea.
A little flirting won't hurt, right?
The floor squeaks under your shoes, sticky already, and the guy lights up when he sees you coming his way.
"Hey." It's lame, but what else can you say?
"Hey, beautiful." Okay, a little thick there bud. "Haven't seen you around before." It's loud, but he manages to push his voice out over the noise.
"Oh I uh... I don't come here often." His mouth opens, but whatever he's going to say dies before it can break free, his eyes widening in panic. There's real fear in his expression, and he stumbles back a step.
You feel the Lieutenant before you see him. Instinctively, you take a step away, like he's going to materialize in front of you, tipping off balance to one side as an arm, a giant arm, an arm you know well, one you've studied while it's laid on your table, traced it's tattoos again and again, wraps around your waist and jerks.
Oh my god, ohmygodohmyg-
"Fuck off," he snarls, full of venom, and you've never seen someone scamper away so fast. Everything spins. "Let's go pet."
"Wh-what?" You protest, but he's steering you out of the bar with a hand on your shoulder, past your friends who watch with flabbergasted, stunned expressions dropping their mouths in perfect circles. "Lieutenant-" You dig your heels in, but you're no match for him, not even close. Where are we going?
You get your answer. Swiftly.
It's the bathroom.
The lock clicks at your back as he shepherds you inside, and twists you to face him by your hips.
Fear slithers through the air like a snake. The look on his face is starved. Feral as a wolf in a barren winter. It’s unbridled, raw.
And not rooted in any kind of sanity.
It only swells when he folds his paws over your shoulders and forces you to your knees on the dirty, disgusting bathroom floor.
"Lieutenant..." Your voice is wary, but he only shakes his head.
"Simon." You're not sure what you're expecting. You're frozen, watching a movie play out before you, trying to determine what the characters are going to do next, except the main character is you, and she's thoroughly confused-
Until the Lieutenant unzip his jeans and fishes the heaviest cock she's ever seen out from his pants.
Your mouth drops open, and because you're flailing in this moment, free falling through every emotion known to man, you bark out a laugh. It's obscene. Too long, too thick, swollen red tip drooling milky white spend. He's stroking it, jaw clenching when he squeezes the base.
He steps forward, you jerk back. His lips twist into a scowl.
"Not gon' hurt ya." You look up and down, trying to put the puzzle together, thought the answer is glaringly obvious and literally staring you in the face. You peer upward, and his gaze snaps to yours.
What you find in his eyes... steals your breath.
The foreboding, carnal hunger is still there, almost akin to rage, but beneath it, so far beneath you can hardly recognize it, lurks something else.
Vulnerability. There one moment, chased away the next, but it changes everything about this. He's hesitant, lost, studying you for something, a cue, an indication, like he's not sure how to proceed.
You wrap your fingers around his length and repeat his own motions, a stroke and a squeeze, his shoulders stiffening at first, and then slumping with relaxation. The peace last only so long before he steps forward, and you lean into it, into him, and as he smears the head of cock against your lips, you don't pull away. You just open your mouth like a good little girl. His.
You stretch your jaw wide, and you swear it clicks. He's in the back of your throat with still more to go, but you try as hard as you can to take him, take it all, sucking hard, encouraged by the warm palm at the back of your skull. He grunts.
"Hold still." He covers your ears with both hands, unintentionally, you think, palms on your cheeks, and flexes his hips, forcing himself as far as he can down your throat. You gag on it, holding onto to his thighs for dear life, and when he does it again, your throat tightening with the reflex, he groans. He likes it.
You're totally fucked. He's going to suffocate you.
"Gon' be fast," he pulls back, allowing you a gasp of air, before shoving back in, "breathe when y'can." You fist his pants, and cling to him. He's rough with it, shoving your nose into the curls of his pubic hair, thumbs rubbing through the tears streaming down your face.
It should feel wrong, to have someone take their pleasure from you so violently, but it doesn't. Your clit throbs, thighs pressing together instinctively, wet, desperate sounds echoing off the tile in the room. There's a rugged rush of words flowing from his mouth, things you're only catching bits and pieces of, but you've got the gist.
Needed this. Needed you.
Pretty thing. Takin’ it. Good girl.
You do. You take it through your tears, through the drool slipping over your chin to your neck, you take everything he gives you, even the rush of hot, salted come spilling down your throat.
He hauls you to your feet after, and you catch yourself in the mirror, horrified. Your makeup is everywhere but your eyes, mouth swollen, lips raw. "I should wash my-"
"No." He tucks you into his side. "Want you to stay like this 'til we get home." Home? We get home?
"Lieutenant, I'm not sure what's going on but-" He twists your shoulders back and tips your face up to his so fast your head spins.
"Simon. It's Simon, pet."
#this got away from me#like ran away from me so fast#and I'm actually starting to get attached to these two a little bit#anyway#peaches writes#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader
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Orc x reader
You lived in alittle cottage on the outskirts of town. Many found you to be strange but you had the best fruits and vegetables anyone had tasted so when you came into town to trade and sell the line was never ending. The towns people had practically raised you so your booth was always busy. What you weren't expecting today was the fact an orc had set up a meat stand right next to your produce stand. You had arrived before the sunlight to set up as you always do but froze taking in the sight. An orc, well over 6 ft tall, was standing in front of the stand next to yours hanging up rows of wrapped meat. You swallowed as you watched the way his muscles moved, enjoying the dark green color on his skin. You took in the scars that littered his back. Wishing you could kiss each individual scar. Distracted you hadn't notice the orc had turned his head and notice your stare.
"I paid for this stand I won't leave even if you have an issue with my kind." He snarled snapping you out of your perverse thoughts.
"No! I.. I mean no I don't have a problem with orcs. I just hadn't seen you around before. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare or make you uncomfortable." You stammered out your cheeks turning bright red in embarrassment. You looked him in the eyes finally taking in his features. He had four tusks in total. Two larger than the the others , his eyes a vibrant yellow that reminded you of the sunflowers you grew around your cabin. You were attracted to the orc and had already made him think you where racist, way to go.
"Agar Warbringer." He said holding out his hand.
"Agar thats a wonderful name." You whispered shaking his hand as you told him your name. Agar grunted giving you a curt nod before turning back to his meats.
You left him alone to continue setting up your stand. Little did you know Agar couldn't help but keep stealing peeks at the small little human. You hadn't been afraid and looked him in the eyes. Plus the smell of your arousal had been what caught his attention in the first place. A human female attracted to an orc. There must be something wrong with you. He watched from the side as you set out your produce. Watching the way your hair fell and how often you'd brush it out of your eyes. The way the dawn was starting to shine on your skin so very different from his. Then he thought back to your tiny hand in his. How soft your fingers where compared to his. He could feel his cock hardening at the thought of your hands wrapped around him. Agar cursed silently under his breath focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't sell his meats if he couldn't even control his own.
The bell that signaled the start of the market rang through the air and just as fast, people started to flood in. As you helped person after person you kept stealing glances at Agar unable to help yourself. He was so handsome and they way he handled people was incredible. Giving small children some jerky to nibble on while there parents picked through his assorted product. The way he laughed with the elders as they told him their own hunting tales. His patience was vast even with those who didn't deserve it.
"Honestly if I were you I'd ask to move your stand." You jumped looking at the young man standing at the front of your line.
"Excuse me?" You asked shocked at his statement.
"Why would they allow an orc to put up a stand next to yours? Your one of the busiest stands in the market that thing will scare away your buyers with his ugly face." You could feel rage boiling up inside of you. How dare he say something so nasty.
"If that's all for you, I think you should go." You said coldly. The boy looked at you in disbelief.
"Don't tell me you actually care about that orc." He gasped. Shaking his head he scowled and left muttering under his breath. You knew violence was prohibited but you wanted to beat some sense into that child. You quickly stepped behind the stand for a second to calm your nerves. As you started to prepare to head back you turned right into Agar slamming your head into his chest. He quickly grabbed your arms to stop you from falling.
"Are you okay? I saw you kick that man away from your stand." He asked with a wince. Why was he over here? The last thing you probably wanted was him so close. Without thinking since Agar had a hold of both your arms still you rubbed your nose on his chest it had stung to slam into him. As his musky scent started to fill your sense you froze. Quickly pulling back from him your face turning red in embarrassment. You had just practically harassed him.
"I'm fine. Thank you for coming to check up on me. Sorry about your chest. I mean sorry. I'm just gonna go back the lines waiting. Thank you again!" You rushed out the words. Mortified how could things possibly get worse.
As the day continued you stayed busy still stealing glances at Agar every chance you had. Then as usual the bell tolled signaling the end of the market. When you looked over at Agars stand again. The orc was quickly loading his cart not even sparing you a glance as he did. A deep ache settled into your chest. Why was it bothering you? You and Agar had barely meet. You needed to leave him alone. Ignoring the tears burning at your eyes you started to pack up your own stand. Working diligently placing all the produce back into the crates you'd brought them in. So busy you hadn't noticed Agar slid inside to stand behind you. Agar shifted on his heels he had come to help you, wanting to court you in the orc manner, but paused as he could smell your tears. Had that man come back? He'd crush his skull for making you cry. Agar chose to clear his throat to get your attention wishing to bring you comfort. What he wasn't anticipating was the terrified shriek that left your lips. Agar covered his ears stumbling back an slamming his head on one of the beams. He lowered himself to sit on the counter rubbing his large hand over the bump.
"Oh by the gods Agar I'm sorry you scared me." You cried out, pulling him down to inspect where he hit his head. Swatting his hand away so you could see better. "Luckily your not bleeding." You whispered as you gently ran your fingers thru his hair. His forehead was rested on your breast in this postion. Agar found his eyes sliding closed letting out a soft moan. You started to pull away worried that the sound he made was because of pain. Agar wrapped his arm around your waist resting his chin on your breast.
"It's okay I shouldn't have snuck up on you." Agar had opened his eyes to take you in once again, you looked so worried for him. He found himself smiling at the way you fiddled with his hair while holding eye contact with him. "Little one, what made you cry?" He found himself asking. You shook your head wiping at your eyes. You let out a sigh biting your lip.
"I thought I'd upset you. And that you'd no longer want anything to do with me. You were packing up your cart so quickly." You whispered looking down. Agar groaned in embarrassment.
"I was packing my cart up so quickly because I wanted to come help you. I hoped if I helped you perhaps you'd allow me to spend more time with you." Agar gently grabbed your hands unwillingly lifting his head from your breast. He couldn't help himself but to admire the differences between the two of you.
"You wanted to spend more time with me?" You asked drawing Agars gaze away from your hands. At the look of wonder mixed with delight on your face, Agar found himself moving once more this time pulling you closer to him as he sealed his lips against yours. He spread his thighs tugging you into the space in-between. Placing your hands onto his chest he groaned. He dragged his hand up your arm tangling his thick fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. You'd never been kissed like this before it was all fire, passion, and need. You felt as though Agar would never get his fill of you. As you moaned collapsing against him no longer able to hold yourself up on your shaky legs. Agar slid his tongue into your mouth, bringing you into a heated dance of your tongues. As Agar broke the kiss he chuckled at the soft dazed look on your face.
"Your so beautiful and kind. You smell like sunshine and taste like fresh fruit. How could I not want to spend time with you? Let's pack up your cart then we shall go for a stroll." You whined softly as he separated the two of you smiling brightly at your response. He was pleased that you where returning his affection. He had truly believed wooing you wouldn't be possible. Yet here you where looking at him with some much love he kept forgetting how to breath. You approached Agar as he put the last crate into your cart.
"Are you staying in town?" You asked. Agar look at you shaking his head.
"No the people normally prefer I don't stay in town. I rest in my cart." At his words you shook your head. You knew that humans and the mythical didn't get along but that felt like to much.
"Please Agar, come stay at my cabin. I'll make us a hot meal and you can sleep on an actual bed." You begged softly. Agar look down at you his eyes widened. He found himself nodding at a loss for words, especially when your face lit up in a bright smile upon his agreement. The travel to your cabin didn't take long. You lived in the forest, just outside the city walls.
"Why don't you live in town?" Agar asked. Taking in your home. You had paused a sad look settling on your face before you answered.
"Mmm my parents where what the towns people call wise men. My father would say they where historians. They'd take down knowledge of anything and everything they could. When my mother discovered she was pregnant they chose this forest. I've been here ever since." A soft silence once again settled between the two of you. You led the horses to the barn as Agar looked at you.
"How old where you when they left?" Agar asked softly.
"I was six. I really dont like talking about it. The people in town took good care of me helped me be an honest worker." You whispered entering your home Agar close behind. You showed Agar a place to wash up as you cooked dinner.
You and Agar enjoyed your meal sharing stories. Agar helped you clean up.
"I'll show you to the bedroom." You whispered leading the way down the hall. As you arrived to your bedroom and opened the door Agar blinked.
"This is really well furnished for a spare bedroom." He stated simply sitting down on the foot of the bed. You blushed fiddling with your fingers once more.
"It's my bedroom. I thought.... I thought we could sleep together." Agar smiled you where being so bold and brave.
"Come here little one." He groaned as he pulled you onto his lap. You whinned softly at the feeling of Agars cock pressed against your core. He chuckled at the needy sound lowering his head to kiss you. His hands gripping your ass slowly dragging you along his length. "You feel that little one. I've been like that all day watching you." He growled lowering his head to travel kisses and small nips with his tusk along your neck. He chuckled once more at the needy sounds leaving your lips. "So desperate love. Acting like I don't have every intention to stuff you full."
"Please Agar more. Want you to take me." You practically sobbed out. Agar burst out laughing at your antics making you pout.
"I have to prepare you little one I'm much to big for you to take me right away." He layed down flat on the bed. "Take off the rest of your clothes and come up here." At his order, you quickly threw off your gown and undergarments. Once again drawing a chuckle from Agar. He found your eagerness endearing. As you climbed onto his lap he shook his head. "Higher love. I cant feast on you from all the way down there." You looked at him swallowing heavily as he licked his lips and tusks. You made your way up untill your dripping cunt was hovering above his face.
"I what if I hurt you?" You asked holding yourself up. This time it was your turn to laugh. The look on Agars face was a mix between being insulted and bewilderment.
"I want you to try." He growled his hands closing around on your hips pulling you straight onto his face. Making you choke on your laughter as his tusk pressed right against your lips, opening you up for his thick tongue. At the first swipe along your clit you whined. He moaned low pushing his tongue into your opening. He rubbed his nose against your clit as he tried to touch the deepest parts of you with his tongue. Gasping and trying to pull away from the overwhelming pleasure he snarled in frustration. You where interrupting him, with a quick movement you where moving backwards. Finding yourself flat on the bed his face still buried inbetween your legs.
"Oh by the stars Agar I can't!" You cried out as he now had you fully pinned open to his assault. He was fucking you with his tongue every once in awhile giving special attention to your swollen clit. You continued to try to get away from the immense pleasure. Agar brought one arm up to settle on to your hips right under your stomach. Using his other hand he grabbed your leg moving it so he could slip his hand to your weeping cunt. He slid his ring finger into you. Just his one finger was already stretching you wider then his tongue had. You moaned your back arching. Agar didn't hesitate to add a second you where already so wet for him. Agar slid his fingers deeper, watching as you cum. You were such a sight spread out before him so ready, so willing, and so sensitive. As his fingers pressed against your g-spot you cried out the sensation dragging out your already intense orgasam. He groaned in delight making sure you rode out the high of your orgasm, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.
"Your so sweet little one." He sighed dragging his tongue up your sensitive cunt making you whine.
"I could live in between your legs, but now your ready for me. Catch your breath." His eyes were almost glowing with his need to have you. Agar was patient rubbing slowly circles on your thighs as your breathing slowed.
"Please Agar. I'm ready I want you." At your words, Agar moved pulling you towards him. He grabbed his cock in his hand dragging it along you wet folds. As he lined himself up with your entrance he locked his eyes onto yours. Slowly pushing himself in he gritted his teeth. Slow, he had to go slow, you were so wet and tight. He could fill his control slipping. Another soft moan left your lips. With that soft sound Agar could no longer resist. He pushed himself the rest of the way with a quick rough thrust, his balls smacked against your ass. You let out a loud groan your eyes sliding closed at the feeling of being filled.
"Oh no mate, your gonna keep those gorgeous eyes on me." Agar growled as he began to move. Your eyes flew open thanks to the way he was kissing your cervix with every thrust. "There's my pretty mate. So lovely so tight around me. Irresistible, I will never let you go."
Your nails where digging into his bicep. The pleasure was overwhelming you. You were getting close to cumming. With out thinking you sank your teeth into his chest. Agar groaned feeling your walls tightening on him. "My pretty girl your begging for my seed. Pulling me back so tight." At Agars next rough thrust you cried out into his chest
Agar roared as he slammed himself all the way into you, slamming into your cervix as he filled you with his seed. Agar brushed your hair away from your eyes taking in the way your eyes where dilated. How your breast rose and fell with each panting breath. Blinking away your tears you looked back at Agar.
"Did you mean it?" You asked softly. Agar looked at you with a soft tilt of his head.
"Mean what little one?" He asked as he ran his hands along anywhere he could easily reach.
"When you called me your mate?" You whispered hiding your face now afraid his answer would be no. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Agar rather it be in your cabin or traveling by his side. Agar froze at your question he thought he had made that perfectly clear. Pulling his cock back he slid himself back in slowly to your sensitive cunt. Your eyes rolled back at the overwhelming pleasure. Agar leaned down resting his cheek against yours. Setting in a slow steady pace.
"I meant every word. Your mine little one. My mate, my lover, my heart. I'll make sure your always full of my offsprings. I'll make sure all you know is how much your mine." As Agar continued to thrust into you at his words your eyes flew open looking at him. Agar above you his green skin shining with sweat under the lanterns. His yellow eyes were filled with admiration and need.
Agar once again picked up his pace. Making you cry out.
"All yours Agar. Your mate. But please I'm so close. So sensitive." You sobbed out fresh tears falling down your cheeks. Agar groaned at your words sliding his hand under your waist he lifted you up to meet his thrust at his brutal pace. Agar closed his lips over yours Pulling you into a heavy kiss. As he slid his tongue into your mouth. You once again came on his cock. Agar slid all the way into you once more as he came. As Agar pulled out fully this time he watched his cum dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs. Dragging his finger along the cum he started pushing it back into your cunt. He wouldn't allow a drop to be wasted. Your back arched at this rate Agar would be the death of you.
"Agar please I...I need some rest." You stammered out. Agar looked at you letting out a soft grunt. He laid down back flat on the bed easily pulling you onto him. Your head rested on his chest while he had your legs inbeetween his thighs. He started to fiddle with your hair.
"Sleep my heart for once you awaken I will have you again." He stated smiling at you his eyes filled with the same look of love and admiration. Agar had finally found his heart and he would never abandoned her.
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Consider: Yubin who's your seatmate and is very professional in school but every night at 10pm you get the raciest, sauciest, spiciest nudes from her with no warning
Hell Week
tripleS Gong Yubin & Male Reader
Categories/warnings: smut, that's p much all anyone needs to know i think
Word count: 5.5k holy shit
a/n: jeez howd it get this long :nolookk: oh btw i took some liberties with the prompt not that u care heres the fuckin yubin fic :DDDD
~~~
A hand lays itself on your shoulder, the sudden contact nearly making you jump. You turn around and find Yubin clutching a book to her chest with a gentle look on her features. Gesture over to the chair across from you, all the while trying to get your heart rate back under control.
“My bad, didn't see you were locked in.” She gets into the chair left of you anyway and turns her book to the same page as yours. “How's it going?”
You stretch and groan to let out as much of your tiredness as you can, paying just a bit of mind to everyone else in the library doing pretty much the same. “Dunno. Around twenty minutes ago I accepted I'm retaking this class. What's up with you?”
She giggles while her eyes scan across the paragraphs talking about desert flora and types of precipitation. She rests her cheek on her palm, “I still have a bit of fight in me, but I'm losing hope. I was hoping I could borrow some from you.”
“Sorry, Yubin,” you whisper with every ounce of sympathy you had, “fresh out.” You return to your own book, yet all you do is run your eyes over the same page over and over without much staying in your head.
A cursory look over to your left shows you scholar-mode Gong Yubin: focused, sharp, and serious. Not that it ever got in the way of you two being friends, but when she gets like this, you know better than to underestimate her–she's capable of plotting the downfall of kingdoms if she set her mind to it.
However, at the same time, you notice her distress, then immediately notice how well she hides it. It's the same slight crease of her eyebrows in freshman orientation, after midterms in Linguistics 103, and when she finally stopped putting off Geology 102. The realization dawns on you: the situation is dire now that she asks for your help while she's like this, so how could you let her down now?
“Bet you I can score higher,” you challenge her. You have no good reason to issue such a proposition, but if it means giving her support how it matters, whatever embarrassing thing she'll make you do is more than worth it.
It piques her interest and a smile pulls up the corners of her lips. She side-eyes you with an excitement she didn't have just two minutes prior, and you know it worked. “If I win,” she announces as loud as she's allowed to, “make me thick tofu stew. The right way.”
“Really? That's it?” Then you rebut with just as much fervor, “If I win, you do three of my essays in comparative lit next semester.”
“Now hold the fuck on,” she stumbles, her eyes grown wide and her smile grown toothy, “if you're gonna raise the stakes like that, I need to think of something else!”
Your phone and hers vibrate at the same time, and your screen reads “Get your ass over to Geog.” You both pack your bags and head off to your last Geology class before finals together, and as your book takes its place in the darkness of your backpack, “Fine, but I get to change mine too when I hear yours,” and the spring in her step as you walk tells you it's mission accomplished.
~~~
In hindsight, it really wasn’t all that bad. The class review session your professor held that day helped you nail down just enough of whatever the fuck sleet might be, and while you're certain it isn't flying colors, your grade at least wouldn't be red.
Coming out of the exam room, you spot Yubin just seconds before she finds you, and your good deed pays for itself as she skips to approach.
“Got a good feeling?” There was no point in asking other than that you had to hear it from her, though the wide grin on her face was proof enough.
“Yeah, I think barely,” she sways cutely from side to side, “and don't think you're off the hook!” She hits you light on the arm, and the most shining feature you can’t ignore is her eyebrows without any sign or symptom of the crease.
“Not over ‘til the fat lady sings, Gong Yubin,” though you know she's already won. “Three whole essays against… Haven't you decided yet?”
“No, not yet, but the bet is still on!”
You relent, “Fine, fine. Anyway, Nakyoung’s treating the gang to drinks tonight. Wanna come?”
“Nah, busy. Laundry and stuff.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, and you can tell she’s giddy about what her grade is going to turn out to be. It’s a sight for sore eyes, especially ones that have seen too many grainy tectonic plates and water cycle diagrams. “And why do you insist on full-naming her?”
“I know someone whose name sounds the exact same. As far as I’m concerned, our Nakyoung’s the other Naky.” You place your hand on the small of her back and lead her away from the doorway, and she walks with you without a second thought.
“Mean. You’ll have to introduce me to this first Naky, then.” You slide into rhythm with her gait, and it hits you just how relieved you are for Yubin’s worries to be over.
It seems such a waste, you think, that laundry is the only thing keeping her away from celebrating, so as you walk out of the Social Sciences building, you bargain one more time: “We’ll be there all night, so just come by when you’re done. I speak for everyone when I say we want you to come, please?”
She giggles again, “I’ll see what I can do. It’s not like I don’t wanna be there, either. Plus,” she admits defeatedly, “we’re getting the results later, and God knows I’d rather not be alone when it comes.”
~~~
“Hey, where's Yubin?” Nakyoung slings an arm around your shoulder and shoves another mug of beer into your hand. It's a welcome gesture, and it takes all of two and a half seconds for you to down half of it.
“She has laundry,” you nearly shout back your reply above the music. “Said she'll drop by if she has time.”
Nakyoung makes to yell another reply right into your ear, but decides to pull you away into one of the quieter booths in the bar. “She's a goody-two-shoes, no? Laundry, oh please. Kaede hasn't done laundry in two years.” She takes a gulp of her own beer and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Hey. She studied her ass off for that test. I made a bet with her and it looks like she has high spirits, but I honestly dunno what I'd do if she fails.”
Your friend takes your chin up with her finger and you realize how pensive an expression was sitting on your face. “This is Gong Yubin. You know she'll kill it.” Nakyoung flashes a confident smile, and it reassures you almost more than your own trust in Yubin herself. “You drunk yet?”
“Nah, not getting shitfaced without Yubin.”
“Cute. You know she likes you too?”
“Go fuck yourself, Nakyoung. Go steal Seoyeon's boyfriend while you're at it.”
“I wish; she has him under lock and key. But I wouldn't really mind both of them,” she muses, eyeing Seoyeon in the middle of the dancefloor.
Just then, the devil strolls in through the front door. “Hi! You weren't kidding, it's really loud in here,” Yubin exclaims with her hands shielding her ears as she adjusts to the noise.
She takes Nakyoung's seat–you whip your head around and find Nakyoung at the dancefloor, with Seoyeon grinding against her–and picks up Nakyoung's old mug. She takes a careful sip and ends it with a relieved ahhhh, before setting it back down and getting to business. She leans in like keeping a secret, though she can't hide her toothy grin. “Have you seen your grade yet?”
“It's out?!” You fumble for your phone, and the second it lights up, cold runs through your veins–the email notification is the first thing at the top of the screen. Meanwhile, Yubin calmly slides her phone across the table to you. She asks “I read yours, you read mine?” with the sweetest smile on her face, again with the slight crease on her eyebrows.
Calm your nerves, silence the alarms blaring in your head. You know she did well, absolutely certain. However, it still doesn't soothe you enough; not until you see the grades for yourself. So, as your thumb hovers over her email, your heart nearly beats out of your chest, only to see–
“You got 87 percent,” Yubin states in the blandest, matter-of-fact tone you've ever heard. Her eyes move left and right over the same spot on your phone, making ultimate certain that she's reading it right. Once she is, her tone softens just enough, “Yeah, 87 percent. Wow, that's good,” she sighs with relief, “... Hard to beat.”
Now her turn, you peek at her score. doing the same making sure, and then some. When you read it for the fifth time, you kick yourself mentally for being so worried and having such little trust in the genius that is Gong Yubin. “Goddamn, 95 percent.”
Her eyes widen like sinkholes as her hand flies to cover her mouth. It almost doesn't matter that you hand her back her phone; she snatches it back anyway. Her disbelief chips away at itself with every run through of the email she reads for herself, and when she's finally done, returns her shocked gaze back to you.
“You were that scared of three essays?” you joke. The beer tastes sweeter now that your worries have gone, and as if all six septillion kilograms of the world is off your shoulders.
“No, three essays is easy,” she taunts, but immediately her voice takes on a gentler tone, “so I win, right?”
You scoff at her haughtiness, but your relief triumphs over all. “Yeah, whatever. What do you want?”
“... I wanna go home. This is enough excitement for one day.”
“Alright, let me take you. Tell me in the cab what you want for winning, though?”
“Sure,” she says with a tiny smile.
~~~
“So,” she declares. She catches her breath, and her face is overcome with a subtle red flush, “about the bet.”
“Yeah, about the bet.”
“I want…” and she hesitates. The cab runs over a mild speed bump, and the resulting sway seemingly knocks her completely out of focus. She gathers her resolve once more, as if every time she tries to speak she drops it and has to pick it up again.
“You want…?”
It's a good couple minutes of her breathing heavily, and your concern shows itself for her and whatever she has planned for you.
“Is it illegal? What could possibly be so bad that you're hesitating this much?”
“No, no, shut up. I'm working on it.” She takes one last deep breath, even placing a hand on her heart to steady it. “I want… a cum tribute.”
“... A cum tribute.”
“Yes.”
“You want me to…?”
“I'll send you a photo. And do it on that.”
“You want a photo of–”
“Video.”
“You–video?”
“I want a video. Of you. Cumming on a photo. My photo. I'll send it to you.”
There's no way the cab driver doesn't think this is weird. Then again, he has an earphone in, so he might not be listening in at all. You get the feeling Yubin doesn't care either way, completely focused on you.
“... Alright. You want it this bad, fine.”
“Good. Um,” she follows, “sorry in advance. It's gonna be my first time… taking a photo like this.” She refocuses her attention to the buildings whizzing by outside as she says it, the telltale sign the conversation is over. Still, it lingers in your head for a little while: Yubin's first time.
~~~
“Look, I'm sorry,” she sighs, “just come up with me? Please?”
You're standing with her outside her dorm, all the while the meter ticks away in the cab. The driver waits expectantly inside for you to get back, but Yubin's fingers wrapped around your sleeve make for a very difficult decision.
“Okay, okay, just let me pay the cab driver,” you concede, but as soon as you sum up the fare, Yubin snatches it from you and brings it over herself. She and the driver exchange a few words, ending with her waving him off and him leaving her in the dust. She waddles back with her signature grin: the one that tries and fails to hide her excitement.
“Can I just ask why you want it so bad?”
She shakes her head, “Nope. Now shush,” as you both make the now-silent trek up the four flights of stairs to her floor and room.
Upon entering, you immediately notice it's nicer than most dorm rooms: huge space, carpet floors, a big window, and two double-size beds, not to mention its own bathroom. It makes you stop and wonder if you ever glossed over any signs that Yubin or her family might come from old money.
“Uhh, give me a few minutes to get ready. The bed on the right is mine, make yourself at home. WiFi password by the light switch. Kaede doesn't like her stuff messed with, so steer clear.” Yubin then disappears into the bathroom, and you lay yourself down on her bed. You're made aware of how you sink comfortably into the memory foam, and of the disarming fragrance that wafts from her bedsheets and pillowcases. She's always smelled like this, you recall, but it's rather nice, you finally admit.
“Hey,” Yubin attempts. She sits on the edge of her bed next to you, wearing a set of pajamas and no makeup at all. You always knew Yubin was a pretty girl, God knows how many times she's been asked out, but seeing her like this is new; her allure draws you in with a smile and an embrace. Shit, was Nakyoung right? Do you like her?
“So… How do you want me?” She avoids your eyes and touches her fingertips together, a blush forming on her cheeks.
“Do you… Do you have a tie?”
Her ears perk up, “Yeah, hold on,” and she retrieves a thin, striped necktie from her dresser. She places it around her neck, her fingers delicately maneuvering the fabric into an intricate-looking knot, and when she's done, she presents herself to you.
“Take off your top, Yubin,” you tell her, and she hands you her phone with the camera already on. Point it at her, making sure the flash is off, and start taking pictures one by one.
She pushes aside the tie and fiddles with the top button. It's effortless how she undoes it, and she pulls the collar apart to show you more of her. She unbuttons the next, then the next, all the while showing you her smooth skin. With half the buttons undone, she shows off her chest, showing nothing but skin underneath her top.
You take a moment to catch your breath, swallow your spit. “Are you sure about this, Yubin?”
“Yeah… Just keep going, please.” She undoes her fifth button at the very bottom, revealing her midriff and making you salivate. Must be heaven to kiss her there, when she snaps you out of it, “Are you still taking pictures?” Am I that distracting?” Look up to her, find her with the same sweet smile on her face but with a new blush decorating her cheeks.
Her last button is her fourth, and it's undone before you know it. She keeps her pajama top on a little bit longer, covering her chest a little bit more, and finally she shrugs it off one shoulder. It's nothing but everything all at once, and the split second your self-control wavers is the exact moment you leap in.
You drop her phone somewhere on the mattress; both your hands grip her shoulders as your lips capture hers. She leans into the kiss, wrapping her fingers on the back of your neck, and tiny moans escape her amidst smooches that get louder the hungrier she gets.
Pull the top off her other shoulder, and she finally strips it all off. However, you can't even enjoy the sight, not yet, as you draft down from her lips to her slender neck, leaving a trail of kisses on your way. She runs her fingers through your hair before holding you in place, all the while leading your free hand to her chest.
She sucks air in through her teeth, “That's really good, just like that…” she moans as her head tilts to allow more access to her neck. The scent of her shampoo fills your nostrils and you feel yourself getting addicted, but not as much as to the softness of her skin.
She pulls you down onto the bed, and you find yourself leaning over her. Yubin lies under you, watching you intently and waiting for what you'll do next. Her tie sits right in the valley of her tits, and it drives you wild. Take a nipple in between your teeth while you fondle her other breast. She breathes heavy in pleasure, wordlessly asking for more and more of your attention and love. Her fist closes on your hair as she pushes you further onto her chest, her other hand hopelessly tugging on your pants.
It's all the message you need from her: your pants go, then your underwear, then everything else. Your cock stands hard in her sights, and the way her fingers wrap around your length is nothing short of heaven.
“Do… do you wanna do it with me?” Her question is purely innocent, without a single hint of malice in her voice. She rubs your shaft slowly, sending waves of tantalizing pleasure throughout your whole body.
“Do you have condoms?”
“... Kaede will forgive me.” She crawls down the ladder, picks out a square plastic wrapper from her roommate's dresser, and hurries to get back to you. The smile on her face as she comes up the ladder again is one of, if not the most beautiful things you've ever seen.
You guide her as she puts the condom on you, and the sensation of her fingers gently unrolling the rubber along your length only makes you more impatient. Finally, you hook your fingers on the garter of her pajama bottoms, and she lifts her hips to accommodate you. The fabric slides off her so easily, revealing her long, smooth legs that she seems desperate to have you in between of.
“Go easy, okay? I told you…”
“Yeah, your first time. I'll take care of you,” you reassure her. Line up your throbbing cock against her slick heat, feel her palm on your cheek, watch her flash that killer smile again. She bites her lip, and while you know it isn't on purpose, it makes her look sexier all the same.
Slide your cock into her, making sure to go slow. She shuts her eyes harder with every inch she takes of you, and when she moves her hands to your forearms and grips tight, it reminds you like a looping cycle: “Go easy, go easy.”
So you go slow and steady, staving off your lust for the woman giving herself to you. Each thrust into her sex is careful and calculated, though by the second you feel your calculations going awry. She pants at every good spot in her cavern you happen to drag across, earning her little admissions of newly found pleasure in the form of mewls and moans like a song you’d never tire of.
“Faster, please…? You’re so–ugh, fuck…” And the way she pleads flips a switch in you; plant your elbows into the memory foam on either side of her head while she takes your face in her hands. Yubin pulls you in for a kiss and it means the world to her when you grow careless with your lovemaking.
“Fuck, fuck, not too fast, just right, mmm,” each time you push into her cunt. The way she mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, the way she holds on for dear life and leaves scratches all the way down your back, she takes up every single thought going through your head: Yubin, Yubin, Yubin…
You scarcely notice how she's scratching your harder, gripping you tighter, grinding against you faster–it’s much too late to finally hear her warning, “I'm close, I'm close, oh fuck, fuck, aaahhhh!” as she explodes with you still inside her. Her pussy clenches around your cock in all the best ways, and you savor the feeling as she rides out her orgasm. Her knuckles turn white as she grips you by the shoulders, though all you can see is how her tits bounce with every jerk that runs through her body. Yubin's eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth hangs open, a prolonged, deep moan gracing your ears as she ambles closer and closer to spent.
Take a moment, let her breathe. Every gasp of air in her lungs is like a blessing, and each one steadily brings her from beyond heaven back to you. Her hands fall to her sides as she pants out her delirium and replaces it with tiredness, and once she's stable she flashes you that killer smile again. It pulls on the corners of her mouth, showing the tiniest amount of teeth, though her eyes are nowhere near open. Plant a kiss on her cheek, then her neck, then receive her giggles once you stay and rest right on her pulse.
“You good? Still alive?”
All she can do is nod, having had every last ounce of her strength sapped. She lays motionless under you, save for her chest rising and falling with her breathing, and you know she looks to you for comfort and security. You take another moment to bask in her afterglow; she's never looked more gorgeous.
“Hey,” she whispers, and you swear it's the most tired you've ever heard her, or anyone for that matter. “You good?”
“Yeah, I'm okay. Are you sure you're good?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” She pulls you back down and plants a kiss on your cheek. Her lips linger for a second, as if she's taking in your scent made hers. You stay like this for a good while, just enjoying each other's presence, relishing in the warmth of a body that gave itself up for the other. You don't even notice when you slumped over onto the mattress beside her, but her head on your chest felt like the rightest thing in the world.
“We're not done, by the way,” she prods.
“What? Why not? Aren't you tired?”
“‘Tired’ isn't part of the bet. I still want that tribute.”
And you remember, you have a job to do, a debt to pay. It’s between your common sense and your lust for the hottest girl in the world right now, and there is a clear winner.
Pull back from her, off of the bed, and plant your feet on the floor. Firm and resolute, tell her: “Fine, on your knees.” The flush on her face deepens to an igneous red, and she scrambles to the floor in front of you.
“You're so pretty, Yubin,” you muse as you point her camera back to her face. Make sure the flash is off, and once you push the big red button to record, your other hand immediately takes her cheek and guides her to your tip.
Yubin's eyes flutter shut as she inches her lips closer and closer to your cock. The first contact is heavenly; just gentle kisses and licks from a complete novice pretending to be an expert at this sort of stuff. The way her tongue glides over your shaft, the way she plants kisses all over your cock with the tiniest sucks, the way she does all of this with her eyes gracefully shut makes for a killer video for her to get off to later. A blowjob from a girl like this comes once in a lifetime, so you resolve to give her everything she'd ever want from a tribute like this.
A moan escapes you, and she picks up that she's doing it right. With your subconscious approval, the hand on her cheek pulling further her in, she takes your tip in her mouth. Her tongue works overtime in running all over the head, paying special attention to your slit, making absolutely sure her spit coats wherever she can reach. She takes in more and more of your shaft, pressing her tongue on the underside of your cock as she does, all the while her cheeks hollow out like her life depends on it.
Tiny vibrations from her throat only add to the pleasure, sending shivers up your spine and your hand to the back of her head. For the first time, she opens her eyes, and the sight is something to behold: she looks up at you with the biggest, roundest, most pleading eyes, the epitome of cuteness if not for your cock she oh-so-diligently services to get what she wants.
Yubin takes you in just a bit deeper, slightly turning her head and savoring the way your length fills her mouth, when you hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag. She pulls back abruptly as a tear forms in the corner of her eye, and you have half a mind to pull out entirely to make sure she's okay. Instead, she never lets you–she takes your cock again, shooting you another pleading look before she shuts her eyes and bobs her head onto your cock again and again.
Luckily, you pick up on her message; Snake your fingers through her hair, grab a fistful, make her yours. A moan rises from her throat once again, and she steadies herself with her hands on your thighs in preparation. She's ready.
Pull her in as far as she can take, and it's a good most of your shaft before she gags again. Offer her no breathing room, bob her head onto your cock over and over, all the while more of her slobber coats your length, some of it falling off her lips and onto her chest and lap. She never fights, only takes–soon the gagging is replaced by an obedient, rhythmic gluck-gluck-gluck than you're sure even she'd find hot if she could think straight. Instead, her phone picks up every sight and sound for her to enjoy later, while you both enjoy each other now.
It's everything all at once: the sight of Gong Yubin's plump, sexy lips around your shaft, the feeling of her tongue relentlessly dragging over every inch of your cock, the sound of your tip meeting her throat again and again while her groans fight their way out. “Yubin… I'm close,” you confess, but with her eyes still shut and her tongue still going crazy all over you, you don't think she heard. So make the decision yourself: yank her hard off your cock, rub your shaft right against her delicious lips. Once she exits her daze, she takes your dick in her hand and rubs all across the length. Tears fall from the corner of her eyes and her lips give off the slightest tremble, but she's resolute in what she wants to earn from you.
It takes no time at all until you reach your limit. It's the best handjob anyone has ever probably given, but it's that one last kiss from her, right on your tip, that sends you over the edge. One last groan, one last jerk, one last tug of her hair, and your orgasm hits. Your cum shoots out in ropes, all landing on her face and tits. She's determined to receive everything from you, so it's only right to give her exactly what she wants. She shuts her eyes again, but her mouth stays wide open to catch whatever she can of it–she never stops jerking you off even as your cum falls onto her eyelids, her nose bridge, her forehead, her chin. Yubin savors every moment and every drop, burning the memory of bliss into her mind as you coat her face with your love.
Your orgasm finally dies down, and you realize just how much she squeezed out of you. You're sure no one has ever looked lewder, your cum smeared all over her face, yet she proves you wrong when she picks up a fingerful of it to take into her mouth. She licks her lips, apparently loving the taste, while you love the sight of her acting so sultry for you.
Stumble back onto the bed, take Yubin with you. Both of you are out of strength, breathing heavy, and in the middle of processing that you just painted her face with cum–that she asked you to paint her face with cum. You barely notice the stars swirling in your eyes, but your sense of the situation comes back just quick enough to avoid things getting awkward.
“I think I wanna shower, so you should wash up first,” you mumble, still staring at her beige ceiling, and you can feel she's panting and doing the same without even seeing her.
Wordlessly she gets up and her carpet-muffled footsteps grow quieter as she heads to the bathroom. A door shuts, a handle creaks, a shower gushes to life. Your brain sits idle, making no attempts to form thoughts other than acknowledging the shower turning off and on while she bathes. It's calming in its own way, you suppose–taking a bath is one of the normalest things in the world–as if what you just did with her was a close runner-up.
An unknowable amount of time passes, and a fresh, citrus-scented Yubin emerges from the bathroom again. She dries her hair with her towel as she makes her way to her hair blower, but not before shooting you a gorgeous smile and a head tilt to the bathroom to let you know it's your turn.
~~~
Leaving the bathroom yourself, you find a dark bedroom, save only for a yellow lamp shining against a nearby wall. Yubin is sitting up in her bed and scrolling on her phone, and once she spots you, she beckons you over.
“Look, funny,” she whispers with a giggle, and she shows you a clip of a guy much too excited about a truck looking like Optimus Prime.
“Yeah. Hey, listen, I'm pretty tired,” you attempt. In no way is this a lie, and you're sure she's tired too. You bet she wants nothing more than to finally go to sleep and end what should be a perfect night on a high note.
“Totally,” she agrees, “come on in. It's cold.” She lifts up the covers and looks over to you expectantly. Not that it dumbfounds you, but it throws you for a slight loop; she literally just said it was cold.
“Wh– I'm heading out, is what I mean. You should get your rest, too.”
Yubin's eyes take on a softer expression, “Oh, you're not staying over?”
“... Did you want me to?”
“Yeah…?”
Your eyes lock with hers for what seems like half a second and a million hours at the same time. You're stuck in place, still in a stalemate of a staring contest with her, and you're not sure even she knows what the two of you want out of the situation. Her expression turns into one of concern, and her arm holding up the covers falters just a bit. Fuck, you think, window's closing.
Make your choice, have no regrets. Get in the covers with her, and she lets them drop to snuggle up to you. Once the both of you settle, her head on your chest and yours on one of the fluffiest pillows in the world, she blurts out quietly: “You fucked up, you know.”
She navigates to her gallery and finds your video of her, and skips to a part near the end. “Your dumb ass stopped recording just as you were about to cum.” And the video did show that: Yubin rubbing your cock, eyes shut, tongue out and ready for your load, and the video stops.
“Shit, sorry–”
“This wasn't the bet. I wanted a cum tribute, not a facial. You need to send me a proper one,” she muses, “or take a proper video.”
Now that stuns you. You wonder how interesting her ceiling is for you to stare at it so much, but she snaps you out of it partway through by snaking a hand up your shirt and settling it right above your heart. Reciprocate–it only feels right–wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her even closer. An exhale from both of you, and one last exchange of words:
“Okay. Tomorrow?”
“Can you go again that soon?”
“If it's you, of course.”
“Don't guys need to recharge?”
“... I'll handle it.”
~~~
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Hi! Could you do reader being pregnant with Hotch’s baby but she accidentally blurts it out to the whole team, Hotch included at the same time? Thank you if you do!
i absolutely can angel! you’re welcomee, enjoy !! ♡ cw; mentions of pregnancy sickness! nowt detailed/gruesome
the drive from the airport to the local police station is rough because of bumpy country roads, your stomach already feels uneasy and the local terrain is not helping at all
behind you, derek, jj and spencer squabble like children over something you don't care to listen to right now and beside you aaron is silent, eyes focused on the dark road ahead of you
your eyes flicker quickly to the mirror, seeing dave, emily and penelope following close behind in their suv before they clamp shut, focusing on the inside of your eyelids in a desperate bid to ignore your stomach churning
blindly, you feel around in the console for your bottle of water, sipping slowly while you stare at a barely there scratch on the dashboard
"kid, no, sorry but you're wrong!" derek huffs and turns in his seat and in turn, drives his knee into the back of yours, jolting your body cruelly
your eyes widen in panic, the gps estimates another fourty minutes to the station and unfortunately for you, you don't have that kind of time. heat prickles over your body uncomfortably underneath your fbi issued sweatshirt
"aaron," you mumble, looking up at him slightly. he turns his head towards you briefly, eyebrow raised before he's turning back to the road, "can you pull over?"
he turns back to you, no raised eyebrow but concern filling his eyes, "are you okay?" he asks quietly, though he doesn't make any attempt to get the suv off of the road
colour drains from your face, you feel it happen and your boyfriend watches it happen, "no, please, pull over," you rush out before swallowing thickly, your hands fumbling with your seatbelt
aaron pulls over as fast as he can without getting rear ended by dave. you're not entirely sure the car has completely stopped before you're jumping out to make a run for it
"what's going on?" you hear spencer ask
you're all of ten steps away before your body betrays you, lurching forward, hands gripping at your thighs as your lunch and the three bottles of water you'd drunk, repeat on you
a hand smoothes over your back, familiar, aaron, "honey," he sighs, using his free hand to collect your hair up gently. he rubs gentle circles into your back until your knees fail you, causing you to crouch
"is she okay? oh my god," penelope rushes over from the other suv, pulled in behind your one, blue lights lighting up the tree line a few feet ahead of you
you groan and rub a hand over your forehead when it's over, breathing in deep before standing. the entire team stares at you, all of their eyes wide and panicked, "guys, i'm okay," you offer up weakly
aaron pushes a bottle of water into your hand, "just sip it, please," he hums, guiding you a few steps back towards the cars
spencer visibly grimaces, face twisted in slight disgust and honestly, you can't blame him, "we should get you checked over," he says and you do your best to shake your head while sipping
"i'm sure she just ate something bad," jj offers up, sending you a soft smile and you wonder distantly if she knows. none of them should know, aaron doesn't even know
you had a plan, to tell aaron, a big breakfast and a cute announcement all on your day off but time had not been on your side. up until this point the sickness had been timing itself nicely with moments you could break off from the group without them noticing
"but it could be contagious!" spencer shrieks and then yelps when derek and jj both swat at his arm, hands slapping against his coat
"i'm okay, just give me a minute," you breathe, bending slightly to put the water bottle on the floor before leaning against aaron's side, "guys i swear,"
none of them look convinced and hell, if the situation was spun so you were a bystander, you wouldn't believe it either. aaron's hand slides across your back again, thumb tracing up the dip in your spine
penelope extends her hand, a few loose mints roll around in her palm, "thanks," you smile gently before swiping them from her, pushing all four into your mouth at once
"i'm just saying, i, don't want to get sick," spencer starts to argue with the rest of the team, "we have a case guys, if she's contagious and it's airborne we will all already have it!"
you frown as dave rolls his eyes as the younger boy, "you are not going to get sick spence, i swear," you reassure with a huff
"how can you be so sure about that?"
loudly, you groan, "because i'm pregnant, not sick," you snap and that shuts him up but everyone else gasps, all of them turning towards you, "oh my god," you slap a hand over your mouth in realisation
"you're what?" penelope shouts though emily and derek parrot her reaction. aaron's hand stops on your back as he stares down at you, his profiling skills being forgotten while he scans over your face
"i had a plan!" you cry, "i had a whole, elaborate, plan as to how i was going to tell you guys, i swear and now i've fucked it up, i'm so sorry," tears well up in your eyes before they overflow, spilling down your cheeks
aaron turns you towards him slightly, "hey, why're you crying, why're you saying sorry?" he asks gently, a small smile creeping over his face, "you're serious?"
you nod, sniffling gently when you wipe at your face with your sleeve, "i was supposed to tell you first and then the-"
your boyfriend has never been one for public displays of affection in front of the team, outside of a few pecks here and there but in this moment he doesn't care very much about the team
he surges forward, arms sliding around your waist to pull you closer for a kiss. you gasp against his mouth, suddenly very thankful for the mints you'd swallowed seconds earlier
around you the team hoots and woops, partly at the news and partly because aaron is kissing you like it could be the last thing he ever does
"you're not mad?" you ask when he pulls away, your fingers squeezing at his arms through his suit jacket before you turn your attention to the team, the question directed at them too
you get a clean sweep of no's before everyones rushing forwards, arms tangling around your body and whispers of congratulations passing your ears before they turn to your boyfriend to give him the same fate
"i, for one, cannot wait to tell baby hotchner this is how we found out," dave chuckles, hands shoved inside his pockets as he sends a wink your way
"what a story," you agree, fingers tangling into aaron's as the group divides up to get back into the suv's. jj's hand pats at your shoulder when you slide into the passenger seat
"when we get there, i'll take you to go and get some anti sickness pills" she whispers, "congratulations, again,"
before you can reply aaron's hand squeezes gently at your knee, "if you need me to pull over again, please don't wait until the last second," he scolds you through a smile
"yes boss," you giggle, eyes fluttering shut as he leans across the console to kiss your forehead. the suv rumbles as it peels away from the side the road and for the rest of the journey, aaron doesn't stop smiling, not even for a single second
thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily !! send prompts to my ask box!
❥ aaron hotchner masterlist !!
a/n proofread badly, sue me xo
#❥ my works#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner x you#criminal minds#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#thomas gibson#❥ my aaron works#❥ aaron hotchner#❥ aaron hotchner fic rec#❥ aaron hotchner drabbles
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Training Day - A.H
a/n: you all wanted more bimbo!assistant!reader and i'm a woman of the people so here we are
on a real note i love her and she is my queen
masterlist
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
summary: you don't understand why hotch is giving you training lessons, but apparently he thinks you need it
warnings: talking about men following her in public YUCK, hotch trying to train reader, reader not knowing what's going on, cuties being cute
wc: 0.8k
"I still don't really know why we're doing this."
You were grumbling more than was characteristic for you, with every part of your body, your arms, your legs, and even your ass, suffering from a dull ache--sadly, not the result of any enjoyable pastime. After being knocked over more times than you cared to count, Hotch extended his hand toward you. You gladly took it, letting him pull you to your feet.
Your fingers deftly pulled at your pink tracksuit top over the sliver of abdomen that that had been revealed in your less-than-graceful take down. Hotch had pointed out the impracticality of your outfit when you showed up, but you stood firm on the principle that if early training sessions were expected of you, then your attire would be non-negotiable.
"Because I want to be confident in your abilities to defend yourself." His arms folded over his chest as his gaze bore into you, challenging you to contradict him.
"I'm just here to look pretty and answer your phones, crime-fighting isn't in my job description. That's your thing, Mr."
You shuffled back to your original position anyway, hands coming up to shield your face as you mentally sorted through the steps, or at least tried to, struggling to recall the correct foot placement.
"Shoulder width apart."
It's like he could read your mind. You were not entirely convinced that he couldn't.
"Crime-fighting doesn't have to be your thing," Hotch stated, narrowing the gap between you, his hands firmly correcting your stance. You sometimes found an excuse to stand just so, hoping he would step in to manhandle you into place. "But being part of the BAU, even peripherally, means you're not immune to risks. I need to know you can handle yourself... for my piece of mind."
"Sir, is this like, your super-secret way of showing you care?"
Your lips twisted into a half-smile as his hands clasped your waist a little tighter than necessary: a warning that said you were playing with fire. His fingers then moved to direct yours, positioning them closer to your face, his knuckles lightly grazing across your cheek in the process.
"Eyes on me, stay focused."
"My eyes are always on you, sir," you say, your head canting to one side.
He released a controlled breath, giving you a level look that signaling you were pushing it. Nevertheless, you flashed him a beaming smile and initiated the move he had been drilling into you. The tip of your elbow made contact with the soft of his stomach.
He issued a muted groan as he intercepted your arm, preventing it from digging further, and in a fluid motion he spun you around, pinning your backside to his front.
"That was perfect, right?" you squealed, your fist shooting up in victory.
The sudden jump caused his hands to shift from your arm, finding a new perch on your hips to steady your... enthusiastic bounce.
You whirled in his grasp, the proximity sending a faint hum through his chest. Clearing his throat, he managed. "Yes, uh, that was it."
Clutching his shirt, the fabric crumpled beneath your purple-tipped fingers, you giggled. "Just imagine someone trying to follow me to my car now. They wouldn't know what hit 'em!"
"Is that a common occurrence?" The lines of his face gathered into that customary look of concern, that characteristic frown of his making an appearance.
He gently disentangled your hands from his shirt, not letting go, but rather laying his atop of yours.
"Well, sometimes, but I usually just call Morgan, put him on speaker, and he starts talking about the FBI stuff," you explained, giving a light shrug that nudged the zipper of your jacket down just a smidge. "They take off after that."
He clenched his eyes shut, pausing momentarily before reopening it. One hand let go of yours to adjust the zipper back to its proper position.
"That makes my stomach hurt." And it did. "Don't hesitate to call me when that happens. I'll come get you."
Your smile stretched ear to ear, potent enough to make him feel lightheaded. "You know, with all these trainings, who needs to call for help?"
"How about we compromise, and you still call me, regardless?"
You pout your lips, shiny with clear gloss rather than your usual pink. "That sounds less like a compromise and more like a you thing, ya know?"
Hotch's laughter rumbled from his chest, a warm, breathy sound, as he let go of your hands, which he realized he had been holding far longer than appropriate, and guided you to the door.
"You don't appreciate the added precautions I'm willing to take for your safety?"
Dragging your sneaker on the floor, you plucked your bag from the wall as Hotch closed the door behind you. "Gee, when you say it like that..."
When you walked down the hall you seemed to be perfectly in step.
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