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themidnightcrimson · 6 months

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skirt ࿏ wm

summary: in which wanda gets a little too handsy during a small party.

words: 4.5k

warnings: top!wanda, fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, severely gay ogling, reader being a fuckin simp

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Steve had unfortunately complained to Tony that the parties he always held in his huge, modern, techno mansion were not intimate enough. Tony, always ready to take complaints from Steve with a cheeky attitude, passed the message along to Pepper who decided to truly make something cozier for everyone.

Tony’s parties were pretty much bi-weekly at this point, every other Friday night. The team almost always showed up in entirety, and the regularity of it was becoming sentimental to some of you. Even Tony was starting to plan them: “You guys gotta try this whiskey. I’ll bring it next Friday” or “I swear, Cap, I’m gonna put you in a suit on Friday and shoot you up to Mars.” It was cute.

Tonight, instead of drinking and playing poker around Tony’s in-house bar room, Pepper had set up something beautiful outside. You’d arrived at the party with Nat, stepping through the back patio of Tony’ mansion and seeing something set up in his backyard. Tied between two trees was a large white screen, and several yards in front of it was a projector mounted onto the roof of the patio, pointed right towards the screen.

In front of the screen, on the lush, freshly-trimmed grass yard, was a whole bunch of pillowy chairs with blankets cast over them, set up like little cots. To the side of the arena was a little hot dog stand that also had a big red and golden popcorn machine currently popping popcorn attached to its hip, as well as a large futuristic-looking cooler full of ice and bottled drinks. There was even an attachment on the front of the hot dog stand with an array of candy bars.

Strung above the entire arena were strings of fairy lights going in every direction, tied between trees and the railing of the patio porch. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but they were already turned on, providing cute little lights above the cozy scene. It was the homiest thing you’d ever seen at Tony’s home.

“My god,” Nat remarked as she looked around, looking as shocked as you. “It looks like Tony’s planning on proposing to all of us at the same time tonight.”

“I would say yes,” Banner said, coming up beside you and gawking up at the lights. He ran down the steps of the patio and towards one of the fluffy chairs made of pillow, throwing himself down on it and squishing it to the ground. You could hear his sigh of comfort from the patio.

“Do you guys like it?” Pepper asked, coming out of the house. “There’s more food and snacks inside if you guys want anything that’s not out there.”

“I feel like I’m experiencing my first American sleepover,” Nat said, turning to Pepper. “It’s great, really!”

It was cute seeing Nat get so excited like that. Steve showed up behind Pepper and had the same reaction as everyone else, even tearing up a little bit. When Tony reluctantly entered the patio, Steve gave him a slap on the shoulder. “This is really great, Tony. Really great.”

Tony tightly smiled and quickly went back into the house to avoid any more sentiment.

Since the few of you were the first to arrive, you all stayed on the porch and made conversation while waiting for everyone else to show up. It was a chilly spring night, the wind picking up and every once in a while catching the black skirt you were wearing. It was that annoying time of year, of course, where you would have been sweating during the day but now you were shivering at night. You wished you had worn pants instead of a skirt. You didn’t know you’d be thanking yourself later for the opposite.

You had been discreetly waiting for someone the entire time. As more people lingered through the back door into the backyard, you nervously glanced at each figure and hoped it’d be the one you wanted it to be, but it never was.

And then you knew. You didn’t see her, or hear her name, or any other evidence that she was there other than the fact that the pit in your stomach grew and there was a tingling sensation across your nerve endings. The witch always had that affect on you. You didn’t know if it was a spell or something, or maybe you were just acting like a crush-stricken schoolgirl, but you had a habit of always knowing when Wanda entered a room.

Surely enough, through the tinted windows lining the back porch, you could see a flash of red hair making its way towards the back door, that smile you had memorized greeting people as she stepped between them. A shiver crawled its way up your lower spine as the door opened and that face stepped through, the one you’ve been dreaming about, the one that haunts you, the one that twists your stomach into knots when you see it because it makes you think of all the times you’ve touched yourself with that face in mind.

Wanda stepped onto the porch, her hair in wavy locks down her shoulders. She was wearing a soft, light pink sweater that probably looked like off-white to everyone else in the dusk light, but you paid enough attention to know it was pink. It matched the gentle pink in her cheeks, and in her lips…

You and Wanda’s…”situation” was only just blossoming. After months and months of tense friendship and subtle flirting, you’d finally broken the ice when you’d shared a drunken makeout session at one of the parties. You found Wanda to be much bolder than you’d expected her to be, but it invigorated you so. She knew how to keep you on the edge but give you enough to keep you satisfied. She hadn’t fucked you yet, though she’s gotten close. You’ve felt her mouth, and her thigh, but she hadn’t touched you with her hands yet. Her hands.

It was embarrassing when Nat had to snap you out of it. You’d been staring at Wanda since she’d entered the backyard space and got caught up in a conversation with someone else on her way to greet you. You weren’t even sure if she’d seen you yet, but with how sly the witch was, you were sure she was fully aware of everything.

“Hey, you’ve got a little drool there,” Nat said, motioning to her own chin while looking at yours. You blushed and rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath and turning your back on Wanda. Even though she still hadn’t looked at you, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into your back.

“Shut up,” you whispered, crossing your arms and shivering slightly in the cold.

Like clockwork, you suddenly felt a warm arm wrap itself around your shoulders. God, you even recognized her touch now.

Looking up, you saw Wanda appear beside you, her arm slung over your shoulder and pulling you into her gently. You felt the softness of her sweater and her hair against your arm as you were overcome with her cologne. It was sweet but deep, and it made you melt every time you smelled it because it reminded you of all your moments with her.

Wanda smiled down at you, and you half-expected her to lean down for a kiss, but she didn’t. You weren’t public yet, though Nat knew the extent of it, and everyone else had just assumed. They all thought that if you weren’t fucking, it was at least obvious that Wanda wanted to, and no one would dare get in the way of that. This was all without your knowledge, of course, because you were innocent and naïve and thought that no one had any clue about it except for Nat. That was one thing that Wanda liked about you.

“Hey there,” Wanda smoothly said in almost a whisper. Every time you get close to her for the first time, you feel like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again. Her sparkling green eyes, soft lips turned in a self-assured smile, structured cheekbones, her cute little nose. It all made you swoon like a schoolgirl.

“Hi,” you squeaked, feeling your face get hot all over.

Wanda gave a breathy chuckle, obviously picking up on your little squeak. She gave a little space between you for a moment to let her eyes rake down over your figure. They landed at your hips, and her smile faded, turning almost crooked for a moment before she licked her lips and pursed them. “Hmmmm,” she hummed, pulling you into her again, a little tighter now. “You look so fucking good,” she hissed, leaning down towards your ear. You felt her breath fan against your ear, and then her lips grazed it, before she turned away, stiffening as if trying to hold something in. You watched her jaw flex, the muscles straining in her swan neck as she inhaled deeply.

You weren’t sure what exactly was going through the witch’s mind, but your body was burning all over. It almost pained you how you always had such a physical reaction to Wanda.

Wanda did not let go of you. Even as she lingered around the patio, even as people came up and made conversation, she kept you under her arm like her own pet bunny. You felt safe like that, tucked into Wanda, letting her lead the conversations while you just leaned against her soft sweater and inhaled her sweet perfume. The duality of Wanda’s gentle physique but domineering nature made your head dizzy.

Wanda was like a bee to honey to you for the entire time that you and everyone else waited for the party’s population to be dense enough to start a movie on the large projector screen. Finally, once the sun had set and only left an orange streak at the bottom of the sky, Tony came back out onto the patio and, fully equipped in his suit, stuck his hands out to the side and levitated up towards the projector. Halting mid-air, the face of the suit flipped away to reveal Tony’s face.

“Greetings and welcome to the lamest party Tony Stark has ever thrown,” Tony announced, earning several laughs throughout the small crowd of people before flipping the projector on and flying away.

Light illuminated onto the screen, and an old black-and-white Hollywood movie began playing on the screen. People made their way over to the little cots set out on the lawn, while some stayed on the patio pretending to be the adult part of the crowd.

“Want some snacks?” Wanda whispered in your ear, to which you gave a dumb nod, too focused on the way her hand slid down to your waist and gripped it.

Wanda led you over the little hot dog stand that shone like a beacon in the darkening lawn, apart from the light from the movie. You were about to tell Wanda that you wanted popcorn and Skittles, but she somehow beat you to it. “A bag of popcorn and some Skittles,” she told the guy behind the stand. Nodding, he began to load up a bag of buttery popcorn as you looked up at Wanda in confusion to how she knew what you wanted.

Mind-reading can be useful in many ways, kitten.

You thought Wanda had spoken, since you had heard her voice, but her lips didn’t even move and her voice sounded like it was behind you. Your eyes widened in realization that Wanda was using mind-reading on you for the first time—though it actually was about the hundredth time that she’d pried in on your cerebral. It was the telepathic communication that was happening for the first time, but she thought your confusion on the terms was cute.

“Thanks,” Wanda told the guy as he handed you the warm bag of popcorn. She took a bag of Skittles and two bottles of soda and placed her hand on your lower back, her warm palm ushering you towards a cot in front of the screen.

She decided to choose one a little off to the side, spaced out more from any others. It was a double, basically a large pillow in the shape of a chair that could hold two people.

“This is so fun!” you exclaimed, hopping down on the cot and sighing at how soft it was, understanding now why Banner was so relaxed when he had jumped onto one. There was even a little basket beside the chair that held a large, fluffy blanket folded up. Pepper had truly gone all out.

Wanda plopped down beside you, her warm body instantly melting into yours as her weight into the pillowy chair dipped you down closer to her. The redistribution of weight had moved you in a way that your skirt hiked up your legs.

Wanda’s eyes flickered to your skirt, her pupils swarming. You blushed and pulled your skirt down to cover yourself, discreetly watching Wanda blink and force herself to look away. She leaned back in the chair, snaking her arm behind you and curling it around your waist, which only deepened the blush on your cheeks.

Reaching towards your lap, Wanda took a piece of popcorn from the bag you held between your legs and popped it into her mouth. You took a piece and moved it towards your mouth, but suddenly her hand stopped you.

“Nuh uh,” she said quietly, taking the popcorn from between your fingers. “Let me do it.”

You froze, staring at her face that was so close. It was illuminated by the projection on the screen, her green eyes darker than usual.

“Open your mouth,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips. There was a hunger in her eyes as she watched you hesitate before slowly opening your lips, your heart beating twice faster in your chest. Wanda brought the popcorn to your mouth, letting your tongue take it. You were surprised when, as you felt the texture of the popcorn on your tongue and the butter flooded your taste buds, the tips of Wanda’s fingers lingered in your mouth. As you attempted to close your lips, they only closed around her fingers, tasting the extra salt left behind on them. Your face grew red and hot as you watched Wanda smirk, pushing her fingers in just a miniscule bit further, her own lips parting in infatuation as she watched your lips suction around her fingers.

“Good girl,” she whispered, slowly dragging her fingers out of your mouth.

As if nothing happened, as if you weren’t sitting there blushing and sweating and feeling the space between your legs get warm, she went back to simply eating the popcorn and staring up at the screen.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to stop staring at this blasted woman who just teased you so easily and tried to focus on the movie.

Wanda’s handsy-ness wasn’t too extreme during the first half of the movie. It was only her arm around your waist, her hand rubbing your back sensually, her fingers softly combing through your hair and pulling on it hard once or twice just to get a squeak out of you, to which she pressed a discreet kiss to your neck. It was like she was just playing with you. It was like she was just playing with her food.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when there was no sight of any sunlight in the dark night sky, that Wanda strengthened her moves on you.

Under the pretty fairy lights, as everyone else started to calm down and really settle into the movie, a chilly night breeze sewed itself through the air. It flittered over your exposed legs, causing you to shiver. Wanda, who’d been trying not to ogle your thighs all night, couldn’t help but see the goosebumps on your tender skin.

“You cold?” she asked in a soft, sweet tone. When you nodded, she reached over to the basket and brought out the large, thick blanket, draping it over the both of your laps. The warm, soft blanket was such a relief to your cold legs, and with Wanda’s body also available to you as a heater, you felt so cozy and safe.

Then Wanda’s hand reached under the blanket and rested on your thigh, her palm curving around it. The action made you stiffen, your skin growing exponentially warmer where her hand touched. The intimacy of the action sent shimmers through you, and you tried to beat back the little smile on your face.

Wanda, on the other hand, was trying not to smirk. She was more purposeful than you gave her credit for, but again, your naivety was what fueled her to see just how much she could get away with.

You were trying your hardest to ignore her hand on your thigh until it suddenly shifted upwards, pushing your skirt up with it. You gasped quietly. Her hand was all the way up your thigh now, gripping your flesh firmly. Her fingers were wrapped into the inner most tender part of your thigh, pressing into the soft skin there.

The heat between your legs amplified with how close Wanda was to it. You couldn’t help but nervously glance around, afraid that somehow someone had seen her hand grab your thigh under the thick blankets. Luckily, no one was looking. The closest person to you was Nat, but she was watching the film with her head tilted and arms crossed, obviously trying to analyze it like she did with most films.

“Wanda,” you whispered, glancing up at her to see that she was already staring at you darkly.

“What, princess?” she asked innocently.

The name struck you like a bullet of white hot fire in the pit of your stomach. She watched you seriously, a smirk twitching the corners of her lips, as she tightened her grip on your thigh. It stung a little, her fingertips digging so hard into that sensitive inner flesh of your thigh, that you almost squeaked.

“If you want to make noises for me, then do it, babygirl,” she lilted, and you almost gasped when her hand slipped fully under your skirt. You squirmed a little, but she looked at you threateningly. “Don’t move.”

Your breathing grew heavy as you looked around again, feeling that for sure someone was looking this time. No one was.

No one will see, detka.

Wanda’s voice was in your head again. You sharply turned to look at her, but she was staring at the screen now.

Suddenly, you felt something under the covers spreading your thighs open. You hadn’t even realized you’d been squeezing them together, but as you looked down at the blanket, you saw a hint of red glaring through it as your legs spread themselves wide open. She was using magic to open you up for her. Out of impulse, you tried to slam them shut, but her magic held you there, the red glare dissipating so as to not draw attention to what was happening beneath the blanket.

Be still.

You bit your lip as you felt Wanda’s hand cup you under your skirt, her palm pressing into your fabric-covered core. Your breath quivered out of both nervousness and pleasure when she found your clit through your panties and slowly rubbed it.

I can feel how wet you are through your panties, princess. Her voice was even husky in your head.

You tried to keep still as Wanda rubbed your sensitive nub, looking around again to see that still no one was looking at you. But the fact that anyone could look over at the wrong moment, see part of Wanda’s arm stretched towards your lap under the blanket, seeing shapes inappropriately moving under the fabric, instilled a sense of fear into you that seemed to propel your desire.

Good girl, just keep being still for me. I know how bad you’ve been wanting this. You’ve dreamed so much of my fingers.

God, how did she know? Had she been spying on you?

Her fingers dipped down your fabric-covered slit, tickling there for a moment and feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. You were soaking by now, you could feel it, and it only got worse when Wanda started to push your panties to the side.

You started to open your mouth to tell her no, that she shouldn’t do that in front of everyone at a party, that anyone could look over and see and that it’d be so embarrassing, but her voice was quick to reprimand you.

So what if someone sees? I’ll let anyone know that you’re all mine.

With that, her fingers successfully slipped under the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties and met your soaking cunt. You heard Wanda let out a tense breath as she seeped her fingers through your sopping folds, her jaw flexing again.

You’re so fucking wet, babygirl. Her voice growled within your head, dizzying you.

You glanced around nervously, almost thinking someone was looking at you, but finding that no one was still. You felt so nervous about it, so paranoid, but your feverishness was mostly just from Wanda’s fingers rubbing your bare clit now, moving your wetness all around.

I’ve been wanting to feel your pretty cunt for so long. You just had to wear this slutty little skirt tonight, hmm?

Heat burned throughout you as Wanda’s fingers moved towards your entrance, circling it. You stiffened a little, not knowing exactly what to expect from her. You had to force yourself to not gyrate against her hand, to not turn to her and beg for her to just do it, to not moan out loud. It was especially hard not to do the last thing when Wanda’s fingers thrusted inside you.

“Oh—” you started, until Wanda’s magic snapped your mouth shut. Wanda went completely still, freezing completely. You took a blushing, nervous glance around and nearly died when your eyes made contact with Nat’s eyes.

You froze like a deer in headlights. Nat was staring at you while Wanda’s fingers were inside you for the first time. You were looking her in the eye while your walls clenched around Wanda. You wanted to set yourself on fire.

Fortunately, Nat only gave a casual little head nod and a smile and then turned back to the movie. You knew Nat well enough to know that she wasn’t just pretending that she didn’t see anything. Luckily for you, she really had not noticed anything unusual other than your usual awkwardness around Wanda.

Close call, princess. You almost got found out for being a slut for me.

Taking a shaky breath, your hand crawled around until it found Wanda’s knee under the blanket and gripped it for dear life as she started thrusting her fingers inside you. You tried not to whine at the stretch—it’d been a while for you.

You’re so fucking tight, baby. Wanda’s voice was breathy in your head.

You threw your head back a little as Wanda’s fingers pumped in and out of you, and you could even hear the faint wet sounds coming from under the blanket. It made you feel so dirty, getting fingered like that in front of everyone, and being so wet for it, too.

I knew you were such a slut for me. What if I rip the blanket off right now, hmm? Expose you for spreading your legs for me even in public like a whore?

Gritting your teeth together, you felt Wanda’s two fingers hitting a sweet spot inside you. It was so hard to not buck your hips, to not squirm or moan or do anything but etch claw marks into Wanda’s knee.

And then you felt a more noticeable stretch. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt Wanda force a third finger into you. This time you couldn’t help it. You threw your head to the side and buried it in Wanda’s chest, letting out a mix between a quiet moan and a sigh that luckily was muffled by Wanda’s sweater. Keeping as still as possible, you inhaled Wanda’s perfume and scratched the fuck out of her knee as she pumped three fingers inside your cunt at an agonizingly slow speed. You knew she would’ve fucked you a lot harder if it weren’t for the sake of being discreet.

“Wanda,” you murmured into her chest, feeling the valley of her breasts from beneath her sweater cushioning your face. “Wanda, I’m close.”

Her fingers were hitting so deep inside you. They were so long, and she was curling them, and she was hitting your sweet spot deep inside, and you could feel your juices dripping down yourself.

Hold it. She commanded.

You didn’t even realize it, but you clamped your teeth around a chunk of her sweater, biting down hard on the thick cable-knit fabric as the woman’s fingers plundered you at a steady pace. You didn’t even know if anyone was looking at you now, and you didn’t even care because your body was starting to tremble as you struggled to not cum all over her fingers.

Finally, when you begged again, she acquiesced with Cum for me, princess.

It took all of your power to not moan out loud as you orgasmed with Wanda’s fingers lodged deep inside you, your walls spasming around them and your hips trembling. She nuzzled her nose against the top of your head and hissed when you bit down on her sweater again and accidentally bit into her breast. She held you still with her spare arm, her fingers deep in you, as you came down from the blinding high.

“That’s it,” she whispered into your hair. “Good girl, just breathe.” You were breathing very hard to make up for not being able to moan. “You were such a good, quiet girl for me, angel.” The praise landed over you like soft kisses until you realized she was also pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

It didn’t help that, when you had finally calmed down and Wanda pulled her shiny fingers out of you, she popped them into her mouth and sucked off all of your cum. You blushed and dug your face into her chest again, this time purposefully biting her breast which made her hiss again and then giggle evilly.

Luckily, no one had seen you get fingered by Wanda, at least not to your knowledge. Nothing had ever come out of it, at least, except that Tony spread a rumor that you had peed yourself during the party because when you stood up from the chair at the end of the night, there was a wet spot right under where you had been sitting.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #lesbian #marvel #lgbt #wanda maximoff x f!reader

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reiderwriter · 1 year

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Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K

Part two!

After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC.

That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future.

You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field.

It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe).

She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.”

You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all.

The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat.

Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab.

-X-

The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.

“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.

“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?”

“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly.

“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder.

It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes.

She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things.

You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused.

Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen.

As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general.

It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies.

“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face.

“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day.

It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.

Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way.

A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips. When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping his bag a little tighter to him.

“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.”

“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?”

“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”

“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”

He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away.

-X-

“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk.

“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.”

You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent.

The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable.

Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.

It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional.

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.

He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence.

“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.

“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading.

“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time.

“S-Spencer, I’m serious.” He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him.

“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”

Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply.

“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away.

But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.

“She said I would what, beautiful?”

He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could.

But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond.

“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”

“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?”

And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.

“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.

-X-

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space.

Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen.

After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you.

He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office.

In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt.

To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat.

You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention.

“Leaving so soon, princess?”

“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same.

“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer.

“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.”

You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line?

He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you.

“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move.

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before.

His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face.

“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again.

“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”

“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist, and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now.

“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat.

He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed.

He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?”

You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now

“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.

“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.

“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind.

You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day.

“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?” You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him.

“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands. Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands.

“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night.

-X-

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0cta9on · 3 months

Text

Lessons

Length: +7k words

Genre: Smut

IVE Gaeul x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission, and thank you to @msafterhours for beta reading! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, head on over to my ko-fi page!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

“Ugh, this is so fucking annoying!” Gaeul groans, slamming her fist against the table, the clattering of silverware echoing throughout the apartment. Wonyoung, used to her sudden bursts of anger, doesn’t even look up from her phone. “I already told that old guy from SBS that I’m not interested, yet he keeps spamming my messages!”

“Why did you give him your number in the first place if you’re not interested?” Wonyoung inquires.

Gaeul’s cheeks turn a bright red, her gaze falling nervously to the side. “...You know why.”

“Because you’re horny?” Wonyoung posits, raising her brow.

The older girl’s face falls into her hands in misery, emitting a deep guttural groan that carries the weight of her dissatisfaction. “This is so unfair, how did you guys find boyfriends and I have to slog through all these gross older men and obnoxious boy group members?” Gaeul glances at her with a pout on her lips. “Am I ugly or something?”

Wonyoung sighs, gently holding her groupmate’s hand from across the table. “Of course you’re not ugly, you’re just… unlucky.” Gaeul faceplants into the table, her muffled whimpers eliciting sympathy from the younger girl. “Look, why don’t you just ask out our manager already? I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Gaeul’s face shoots up, tomato red with panic. “W-what are you talking about!? That’s our manager, that’s w-weird!”

Wonyoung scoffs. “And you think touching yourself while moaning his name isn’t weird?”

“H-how did y-”

“These walls are paper thin, just because you play ocean noises in the background doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”

Gaeul sinks into her chair, covering her face in embarrassment. With a sigh, Wonyoung pulls up a website on her phone and slides it across the table. “Here, a bunch of my friends used this website when they were in your position and they all managed to find a boyfriend within a week.”

The older girl scans the phone, immediately grimacing at the shoddy nature of the website. Aside from an embedded video in the middle of the site and a measly drop down menu titled “Lessons”, it’s essentially barebones. All the text is in Comic Sans for some god awful reason, and whatever moron made this sorry excuse for a website decided to use bright orange over pink. It’s like wrapping a terrible gift in even uglier wrapping paper.

“Wonyoung, this is… grim,” she mutters.

Wonyoung shrugs. “The results speak for themselves.” She takes her phone back and walks towards her room at the end of the hallway. “You better watch those videos. You’re already ruining my beauty sleep, I won’t let you ruin beaches for me too,” she calls out, her bedroom door slamming behind her.

Gaeul leans her head against her palm, contemplating her options. She could ignore Wonyoung’s advice and continue to foolishly look around for dick until her standards drop so low that she ends up sleeping with — God forbid — some washed up 2nd gen idol, or she could learn a thing or two from that hideous website and ask out her hot manager, potentially making things awkward between them for the rest of her career.

She barely has to think about it before pulling out her phone, pulling up the website in mere seconds. With a deep breath, she presses play on the first video.

______________________________________________________________

LESSON 1: HOW TO GET A MAN

Being the manager of one of the biggest girl groups in the world leaves you with little energy and even less free time. At first, it was fun. When IVE first debuted, they were nervous yet excited about finally achieving the dreams they’ve worked so hard for, and you wanted to help them out anyway you could, becoming a strong pillar that they can rely on.

However, after a couple years of idol experience under their belt combined with their very quick rise to stardom, the job that you once loved turned into a complete nightmare, which only worsened once the girls found partners. Just last week, you had to wrestle a camera away from a Dispatch worker after he took photos of Rei sucking off her boyfriend in the middle of a park—all of this at 3 fucking AM. To add salt to the wound, instead of being commended for preventing a potential PR disaster, you got chewed out by your supervisor for not managing them well enough. Sure, let’s ignore the million other times you’ve warned them about doing stupid things in public that they keep ignoring.

At least not all of them are a handful to deal with since Gaeul doesn’t have a boyfr-

*Ring Ring*

Speak of the devil. You answer your phone.

“Hey Gaeul, what’s up?”

“H-hi, um…” She clears her throat, her nervousness putting you on edge.

“Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?”

“N-no, it’s nothing like that! It’s just, uh… Are you busy tomorrow?”

You scan your desk, cluttered with a messy pile of paperwork. Even at your most productive, it’ll take you the entire week to get through everything alongside the plethora of meetings you’ll have to attend. “Yeah, I’ll probably be busy tomorrow, why?”

“Oh, um… How about Saturday?”

“Gaeul, what is this about?”

“Just…!” She sighs audibly in frustration. “Yes or no?”

Rolling your eyes, you take a quick glance at your calendar. Aside from a note that says “buy groceries”, it seems like your entire weekend is free. “Yes, I’m free on Saturday. What is this-”

“Great! I’ll text you an address. Be there at 5pm sharp. Bye!”

“Wai-”

Gaeul hangs up before you can utter another word, leaving you to wonder what all of this is about and why she sounded so nervous over the phone. Your mind runs through all the potential scenarios this could be. As far as you know, there aren’t any events Ive are performing at and filming for their YouTube show doesn’t start until next week. Could this be a prank the girls are pulling on you?

Even as you look up the address she sent you, all you're left with is more questions than answers.

______________________________________________________________

LESSON 2: HOW TO ACT PROPER ON A DATE

Saturday rolls around after another particularly difficult week of running around protecting IVE’s image. If you’re being honest, you fully expected to pass away from stress alone after Yujin and Liz nearly got caught having a foursome in someone’s pool by Dispatch yet again. At the very least, this photographer didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as the last one.

As you travel to the far side of the city and stroll up to the fancy restaurant Gaeul all but forced you to come to, you silently pray that this isn’t some weird way of her announcing her new relationship to you. You enter the restaurant, almost immediately receiving a glare of disdain from the host as he scans your casual outfit of a T-shirt and jeans, unbefitting of the atmosphere.

“I’m sorry sir, but we have a strict dress code and we unfortunately cannot seat you with your current outfit,” he says, flashing a condescending smile.

“Actually, sorry if this is weird, but is a woman named Gaeul here?” you ask, ignoring his poor attitude.

He looks down at his podium, scanning through some papers before his expression suddenly shifts into something more genial. “Ah, of course! Right this way, sir.” He leads you down a side hallway that’s hidden away from the main seating area, and brings you to one of many doors. “Ms. Gaeul is right in this room, sir.”

You open the door, your jaw hitting the floor in awe as you scan the intricate decorations that adorn the room. A golden chandelier hangs overhead, illuminating everything in a warm glow, while beautifully realistic paintings of fruit bowls and flower vases hang on the walls. In the center of the room sits a table, draped with a red silk cloth and topped with lit candles that set a sort of romantic mood. Gaeul sits on one end, sporting a black strapless dress that shows off her milky skin and thin figure.

“Hi!” She says, walking to you with outstretched arms. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Hey— o-oh.” You flinch in surprise as she pulls you into a warm embrace, instinctually slotting your arm around her delicate waist. It’s the first hug you’ve shared with one of the members, and your discomfort quickly fades as you sink into her.

“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” she says. You sit across from her, your eyes darting around the room, overwhelmed by the ambience. “You like the view?”

“Yeah, this place is pretty cool, but why did you want me to come here?”

“To surprise you of course!”

Just then, a procession of servers files through the door, carrying silver platters full of food. With each dish they place, you salivate more and more, your stomach rumbling intensely. By the time the last dish is set, the entire table is filled with various dishes of different smells, colors, and textures, none of it discernible but all of it delicious. The final cherry on top is the bottle of expensive wine that the server pours into your glass. This is it. This is Heaven.

“Since you work so hard for us, I thought it would be fitting to treat you to a nice meal,” Gaeul explains, smiling at you. “You deserve it.

“W-wow, this is just… thank you so much, Gaeul,” You say, still scanning the food in front of you. “I wish you would’ve told me to wear something nicer though. That guy at the front side-eyed me the second I walked in.”

“It’s okay, I think you look sexy in anything you wear,” she giggles, cutting her laughter short with a bite of her lip. For a split second, you swear your heart skips a beat.

Blush grows on your cheeks, taken aback by her sudden compliment. “O-oh, uh, thanks. You look, um, very nice too.”

“Just nice?” She pouts cutely. “I got all dressed up for you and that’s all you’re gonna say?”

The heat in your face deepens as you nervously avert your gaze. You compliment the girls all the time, why do you suddenly feel weird about it now? “You look… very pretty, Gaeul.”

She grins warmly, satisfied by your answer. “Thank you. Now eat up! It’s all for you.”

You spend the next few minutes in pure bliss trying out every single dish, each bite better than the last. Sweet, savory, bitter, earthy, flavor combinations you never even knew existed dance around on your taste buds; pair that with the rich taste of the wine and suddenly, you’re floating on cloud nine.

“How’s the food?” She asks. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Of course I am,” you say, grinning at her. “I’m eating delicious food and drinking expensive wine with a beautiful girl.”

“Oh?” Her brow raises with intrigue, a smirk playing on her glossy lips. “Beautiful? I thought you said I was just pretty?”

“I-I mean yeah, the entire world thinks you’re beautiful,” you stutter, trying to keep your inhibitions in check, a task that’s becoming increasingly difficult with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.

“Okay, but what do you think?” Gaeul leans in like a predator backing up its prey into a corner, her light-hearted tone dropping to reveal something more sultry.

You gulp, beads of sweat forming on your head. “W-well, I think you’re a great performer and-”

“That’s not what I meant,” she states, staring intently at you. “Have you ever thought about me? Imagining what you would do to me if we were all alone with no one to bother us, just me and you?” She brings her spoon to her lips, giving it a slow, sensuous lick without ever breaking eye contact.

You shiver as her tongue dances across the silver, desperately wishing it was you instead of the damn spoon. You shouldn’t be having these impure thoughts—though you’d be lying if you said this is the first time you’ve looked at Gaeul this way. You’re her manager, Starship will toss you out in an instant if they suspect that you took the job just to get with the idols. But it’s so hard to think properly with the alcohol flowing through your system and the tightening in your pants.

Tell her no. Stop her advances immediately before things get out of hand. Yet, you don’t object as Gaeul takes your hand, leading you out of the restaurant. The words start to meld together like goo, all you can make out is an utterance of a “good time” and how you’ve been such a “good boy”. You say a lot of things to her, probably—it’s hard to talk with her tongue shoved in your mouth—but as the taxi takes you to the familiar route towards her apartment, the only clear thought running through your head is how impossible it is to tell this girl “no”.

______________________________________________________________

LESSON 3: HOW TO PLEASURE A MAN

Gaeul tosses her phone on her bed, scoffing in disgust. After her conversation with Wonyoung last night, she binge watched the first two lessons, even jotting down notes to remember for later. As much as she would hate to admit it, the questionable looking website is an information goldmine for a desperate soul like hers, it’s a wonder how she hasn’t stumbled upon it before. However, her view of it immediately soured again after watching the third lesson.

“Act submissive? Let him do whatever he wants?” Gaeul questions, reiterating the points made in the video. “What kind of bullshit advice is this? If I’m gonna sleep with someone, I’m not trying to be their little fuck doll or whatever!”

She paces around her room, hands running through her hair over and over again as the thoughts bounce around her frustrated mind. What’s the point in doing all this work trying to get a boyfriend if it only amounts to his pleasure? What about her needs? Is she supposed to be happy being reduced to a glorified cum rag?

Fuck no. A sudden realization hits her like a bolt from the blue — She’s Gaeul from IVE. An icon in one of if not the most popular girl group in the world. Any man should feel lucky that she even gave them the time of day.

With a newfound determination, Gaeul picks up her phone, her finger hovering tentatively over the “Call” button on her manager’s contract. She’ll use what she learned in the first two videos for sure; she’s not dumb enough to completely disregard their teachings. But if—no, when things get to the bedroom, she’ll do things her own way.

______________________________________________________________

You and Gaeul stumble through the door of the dorm, lips, limbs, and fingers intertwined in a needy ball of lust. Don’t even bother making it to her room, half of your clothes are already off by the time you reach the living room. Palm her toned stomach, savor the taste of her lewd moans dancing off her tongue and onto yours, shiver as her nails graze against your skin. Do all the dirty things you’ve kept hidden in the back of your mind.

Gaeul breaks away, sitting back on the couch as she strips away the rest of her dress, leaving her in a matching set of black undergarments. She spreads her legs, inviting you to fill the space in between.

“Eat me out,” she commands, words unwavering even as the sheen of arousal coating her thighs tells you exactly how badly she needs this. You quickly oblige, practically diving face first into her sweet heat. Discard her soaked panties; to you, they’re just another obstacle keeping you from what you really want.

“Good boy~,” Gaeul moans as you attack her slit with your tongue. You alternate between long, slow licks to flicking your tongue furiously against her clit. She yanks at your hair, forcing you to take a whiff of her sex. Her scent is intoxicating. You don’t even feel the pain anymore, all you can think about is about pleasuring her gorgeous pussy.

“F-fuck yes, lick my pussy, you fucking perv!” she goads you on and you follow her every command like the dog that you are. Her slim thighs wrap around your head, forcing you deeper and deeper into her until it’s physically impossible for you to get any closer. Forget the alcohol, you’re getting drunker on the sweet nectar dripping from her hole.

Fuck her with your fingers as you lap at her clit with a hunger you’ve never felt before. Her guttural moans are like a siren song, drawing you into her. The way her face contorts with pleasure is so alluring. You thought she was attractive already, but fuck this is the kind of beauty that only you are lucky enough to see. No hounding fans, no Dispatch, just you and Gaeul.

She grabs your hair, pulling you away from her heat, much to your dismay. “Take your fucking cock out,” she commands before pushing you back onto the floor. You make quick work of your boxers, but before you can ask for a condom, Gaeul’s already climbing all over you, lining up your painfully erect cock with her slit.

“W-wait, Gaeul-”

She clasps her hand over your mouth, leering at you with a ravenous glare. “I’ve waited too long for this to use a damn condom. You’re just gonna have to pull out or I’m kicking your ass out into the streets, got it?”

You nod, both terrified and turned on by this new side of Gaeul. With her hand still covering your mouth, she slowly impales herself on your rod, her face silently contorting with each inch of you she takes. You move to grab her hips, but she swats your hand away.

“Absolutely fucking not, we’re doing this my way,” she growls at you. All you can do is submit as she fucks herself onto you at a selfishly slow pace like you’re nothing more than her personal dildo. Your hot breath flows through the miniscule gaps in between her fingers, not even giving you the luxury of a deep breath. You want to get angry, you want to show her who’s boss, but each time she slams her hips down onto you, it’s like she sucks away your will to fight little by little until you're completely left at her mercy.

“Fuck, this is so much better than using my fingers,” she groans, throwing her head back in ecstasy. “I bet you’ve imagined this before, huh? Filling my pussy with your disgusting cock?”

You nod sheepishly. Her words aren’t entirely false; you’ve imagined what it would be like to sleep with some of the girls, but never did you think you would actually get the chance to. Gaeul rocks her hips back and forth, relishing in the way your breath quickens and your eyes twitch with each slam of her petite hips. You feel yourself begin to reach the apex of your climax and urgently tap her thighs to warn her, but all she does is laugh in your face.

“You wanna dump your cum deep into my cunt, don’t you? Impregnate me with your disgusting seed?” she teases. “I’m not on the pill. What are you gonna do?”

Your eyes clamp shut, trying desperately to ignore the building sensation in the pit of your stomach. But with her warm walls making you lose all sense of control, it’s only a matter of time before you inevitably burst inside of her. Right at the last second, you grab Gaeul’s hips and lift her off of you, shooting your cum onto your stomach. Gaeul’s body shakes violently as she reaches her own orgasm, furiously rubbing at her clit as her juices spray all over your torso. Once her messy climax subsides, she scoops a dollop of your semen off of your stomach and licks it, swirling your combined juices in her mouth with a smirk.

“Mmm, tasty,” she says, cupping your chin while her other hand strokes your semi-hard shaft. “You better get it up soon, I’m not done using you.”

“Y-yes…” you mutter, still basking in the high of your orgasm.

Her grip on your face deepens, digging her nails into your cheek. “Yes, who?”

“Yes… mistress,” you utter like the word is commonplace on your tongue. With an amused smirk, Gaeul plants a kiss on your lips, much gentler than you had anticipated.

“You learn quickly. Good boy~” Hearing her say that makes your skin shiver in delight, craving the sensual lilt in her voice. You want her approval. You need her approval. With her, you’re not her manager anymore, you’re her plaything that lives to serve her.

Gaeul bites her lip as she looks down at your cock, already at full mast once again. “Carry me to my room.”

“Yes, mistress,” you answer promptly, scooping her up into your arms. Gaeul nips at your ear as you carry her to her room, trapping yourself inside with the little beast that you’ve worked with for years. The line of morality blurs to the point of disappearing, almost as if it was never there in the first place. It doesn’t matter anymore. All you care about is serving your mistress until she’s completely satisfied.

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes blink open to sunlight peeking through the window. The mattress feels oddly soft, more so than usual. Maybe it’s finally time to bite the bullet and get a new mattress. A blinding headache keeps you glued to your back, unable to make any sudden movements. Your ceiling fan looks odd too. Has it always been this big?

The door clicks open followed by a few light footsteps. “Good morning!” That’s Gaeul’s voice. Why is that Gaeul’s voice?

Panic begins to ensue as you finally look around the room. This isn’t your room. This isn’t your mattress. That’s not your ceiling fan. And where the hell are your clothes?

“W-what the-”

“Here.” Gaeul hands you a water bottle. “I bet your hangover is killing you right now.”

You quickly cover yourself with a blanket, blushing sheepishly. “G-Gaeul… Why am I here? A-and where are my cloth-” Your jaw drops in shock as you scan her outfit — She’s wearing your t-shirt paired with nothing but black panties.

“W-why are you wearing my shirt!?”

She pouts at you, placing the water bottle on her nightstand. “Do you not remember what happened last night?” She leans in with a smirk. “Because I definitely do.”

Her warmth tickles your ear. It’s an oddly… pleasant feeling, but that’s not important right now. “D-did we…?”

“Have sex?” Gaeul finishes your sentence, sitting down next to you. “Yes, we did. And it was amazing.”

Your face falls into your hands. You could lose your job for this. Hell, you could get blacklisted from the entire industry. No one’s going to want to hire a manager that fucked an idol they were supposed to be managing. This is it. You’re gonna have to flee the country, maybe even change your name. You’ll become a beet farmer on some remote island where your only friend is a seagull and-

“Hey,” Gaeul soothes you, rubbing your back. “You look worried. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I-I should’ve never let this happen, I could lose my job, my apartment, my-”

“You’re not gonna lose your job,” she assures you. “If they fire you, I’ll threaten to leave the group.” You turn to her, confused. “W-what, why?”

“Because…” A light blush grows on her cheeks. “I like you. And you made me feel sooo good last night.”

“U-um…”

“Do you still not remember what happened?” she sighs. You shake your head no. “Hmm… maybe this will help jog your memory.”

With a smirk, Gaeul cups your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her hair is still messy and her face is barren without makeup, yet she still looks so beautiful in front of you. She leans in, giving you that same pleasant feeling as her breath dances on your earlobe.

“Good boy.”

Like a movie, the scenes of last night’s misdeeds play vividly in your mind, reminding you exactly what transpired: The dinner. The taxi ride. The sex. Holy fuck, the sex. You’ve dated submissive girls before, but the way Gaeul dominated you was a whole different experience, nothing you’ve ever felt before. She took away your ability to breathe properly, completely leaving you at her mercy, and you enjoyed it. It felt dirty, but it felt good.

Gaeul chuckles as she notices your erection poking through the blanket. “Did that turn you on?”

“N-no, uh…”

“You’re really gonna be shy about it now? It looked like you were enjoying yourself more than I was last night,” she teases.

The blush on your cheeks deepen. “L-look, I… I’ve never done that kind of thing before. Hell, I’ve never had sex with an idol before. This is all kinda new to me,” you admit.

Gaeul sighs, gazing at the wall in contemplation. “I’ve never done anything like that before either. But I liked it.” She turns to you. “Did you like it?”

“Uh… Yeah. I did.”

“Would you want to keep doing it?”

The threat of losing your job still lingers in your mind. This is all new and potentially dangerous territory, and you have no idea what the future could possibly hold for either of you. But you would be the biggest idiot in the world if you lied to yourself and declined her offer.

“Yeah. I want to keep doing this with you,” you say. With a smile, Gaeul tears away the blanket and excitedly jumps into your lap, her crotch resting on your exposed erection. The thin fabric of her panties is the only thing keeping you separated from her sweet pussy.

“So does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” She asks, now grinding her hips against you. Your breath gets thinner as the heat of ecstasy fills up your entire body.

“Y-yes, I would love to be your boyfriend.”

Gaeul grabs your chin, her nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks. “Yes, who?”

A moan escapes your lips as the pleasure mixes with the pain, leaving you in a state of bliss. “Yes, mistress.”

She smirks at you before taking off your shirt, revealing her perky tits and her petite waist to you. “Good boy. I can’t wait to play with you some more~”

______________________________________________________________

LESSON 4: HOW TO MAKE IT LAST

The last few weeks have been the most exciting weeks of your life. All the previous stress of working as IVE’s manager practically disappeared now that you were with Gaeul. No more wrestling with Dispatch after one of the members gets caught anymore, all she has to do is assert her dominance as the oldest and the rest of the members will listen to her. If you knew that a cheat sheet was underneath your nose this whole time, you would’ve dated her sooner.

Of course, to avoid any controversy and damage to the group, your relationship was kept a secret from everyone, including the members. However, that didn’t stop her from constantly calling you to fulfill her needs. It doesn’t matter where, when, or how many people are around, if she’s in need of release, you’re on your knees, lapping at her pussy like it’s your last meal. Gaeul is absolutely crazy, but you would be downright insane to tell your mistress “no”.

After a couple of close calls, both of you decided that it would be best to come clean to her members about your relationship. It’s already hard enough trying to keep your hands off of each other; you wouldn't want any of them to walk in on the two of you while your tongue is deep inside your girlfriend. At first, you assumed that Gaeul would simply send a quick text to the girls to alert them, but it seems like she has some other plans in mind as the two of you wait for them in one of Starship’s meeting rooms.

Gaeul moans in delight as you suck on her neck while she grinds against your leg. “Fuck, that feels good, baby,” she coos.

“Not that I’m complaining, but don’t you think it’ll be awkward if they walk in on us like this?” You ask, nipping at her ear.

“I locked the door, so they’ll have to knock before they can come in.” Of course she accounted for that. God, you fucking love her. “Now shut up and get back to sucking.”

“Yes, mistress,” you oblige, sinking your fingers into her ass as you ravage her neck. However, your playtime is cut short as a knock at the door signals the presence of the other girls.

“God dammit,” you groan. “Can we make this quick, babe? I need you so badly.”

Gaeul flashes you a mischievous smirk, giving you a soft parting kiss before climbing out of your lap. “Don’t worry, cutie, we’ll get to have some fun sooner than you think.” You ogle at her hips as she sashays over to the door, unlocking it and smiling brightly at Wonyoung, Yujin, Liz, and Rei as they file through. You try to offer a similar smile, but with the aching in your jeans, you’re barely coherent enough to breathe properly.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Gaeul exclaims, locking the door behind them.

“Of course!” Yujin replies. “You said you had an important announcement, so that means it’s important to us too!”

“Couldn’t you just text us though? And why is our manager here?” Rei asks, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. You nervously avert your gaze, looking towards Gaeul for support.

“Because he’s part of this and I wanted to show you guys something in person,” Gaeul explains. She takes a quick breath before continuing. “So, I’m sure you’re all aware of how much I’ve been complaining about not having a boyfriend, and-”

“Wah! You got a boyfriend!?” Liz exclaims, connecting the dots fairly quickly. “Who is it? Is it that one rookie that was staring at you during recording last week?”

“Ew, no,” she grimaces. “It’s actually someone all of you know very well.” Gaeul suddenly climbs onto your lap, planting a delicate kiss on your cheek. Normally, you would feel pretty nervous about doing something this vulgar in front of others, but her body heat combined with your raging hormones from your interrupted makeout session makes you completely forget about everyone else. A billion people could be watching and you would still let this gorgeous beauty do anything she wants to your body.

The girls applaud at Gaeul’s announcement, except for Wonyoung, who overdramatically rolls her eyes at the news. “You called us in to tell us this? It was so obvious you two were dating, you were practically attached at the hip for the past couple weeks.”

Gaeul chuckles, eyes darkening as she captures you with her gaze. “Actually, there’s something else I wanted to show you guys too.” Much to your dismay, she gets off of you and drags a chair some distance away from you, sitting down. “You see, our manager here is actually a bit of a freak.”

The girls stifle their laughter as they glance at you, causing your cheeks to burn with embarrassment and confusion. “U-um, babe? W-what are you-”

“I could’ve acted like some ‘ditzy little fuck doll’ and let him have his way with me,” Gaeul scoffs, disdain dripping in her tone. “But then I thought ‘Why should I let him have all the fun? Our dear manager is always bossing us around, so why don’t I take charge for once?’ Granted, it was a gamble, but it paid off sooo fucking well. Don’t you agree, baby?”

Your cheeks grow redder by the second as they all look at you expectantly. “I-I mean, yeah, I-I liked it-” Suddenly, a piece of fabric hits you in the face. You examine it in your hands, your eyes growing wide with shock as you realize what it is — Gaeul’s shirt.

The rest of her members cheer at her boldness while your heart pounds against your chest, tracing her silhouette with your hungry gaze. “Crawl,” she commands.

Your eyes dart nervously between her and the rest of the girls, desire and judgment warring in your mind. “B-b-but-”

“I didn’t say you could speak,” she spits, her eyes narrowing. “Now, be a good boy and fucking crawl.”

A flip switches in your brain as desire wins the war by a landslide. Any hint of embarrassment you once held is now gone, replaced by an overwhelming amount of lust. You fall to your hands and knees, ignoring the hollering from the other girls. To you, they don’t exist anymore. All that matters is satisfying your mistress in any way you can.

Gaeul harshly grips your hair once you reach her, forcing you to stare into her eyes. The heat from her breath hits your face, driving you mad with want. You swear a glob of drool falls from your lip at the thought of getting to taste her sweet pussy again.

She drags her thumb over your lips, smirking. “Tell them what you are,” she orders, turning your head towards her members. Wonyoung rests her head against her palm like she’d rather be somewhere else, while Yujin starts recording you with her phone, no doubt to hold it over your head if you inconvenience her later on. Liz stares at you, deeply flustered, yet a hint of jealousy in her eyes, and you notice Rei sneakily trying to touch herself, her face beet red with pent up arousal.

“I am mistress’s plaything. I live to satisfy her and her alone, no matter where or when she asks me to,” you state. Wonyoung mouths an impressed “Oh wow” at Gaeul before glancing at you with a hint of disgust in her eyes.

Your hair is yanked back towards your girlfriend. “Mmm, it’s cute just how pathetic you fucking look. I bet you want your reward now, don’t you?” She teases the hem of her shorts with her other hand, flashing a glimpse of her panties at you. You nod enthusiastically, ignoring the pain in your scalp while you pant like a dog with desperation.

“Y-yes, please. I want you so badly, mistress. I crave the taste of your sweetness,” you beg. She smirks at you before standing up and removing her shorts, leaving just the fabric of her panties to block you from the true prize within like a wrapper on a candy bar. Hastily, you move your hands to the hem of her panties, but she quickly swats them away.

“Use your teeth, you fucking dog,” she spits.

“Yes, mistress.” As you get closer to her heat, her scent wafts through your nose, sending your mind deeper into a frenzy. You bite down onto the hem and jerk your head downwards, quickly uncovering the object of your desire hiding underneath. With her panties hanging from your teeth, you look up at her in search of her approval.

“Damn, I wish my boyfriend was that obedient…” Liz mutters under her breath.

Gaeul gently cups your chin, smiling at you with a palpable desire in her eyes. You love that look. You want her to look at you like that all the time, even if it means humiliating yourself in front of the girl group that you are paid to take care of. You are her pet, her plaything, her good boy that does anything she wants.

“Lick my pussy, baby,” she whispers, commanding yet soft. She bites her lip as she watches your face inch closer and closer to her dripping core, glistening and beautiful. You run your tongue along her slit, gratefully lapping at her juices while your hands caress her slender thighs. Gaeul grinds her hips against your face, pulling at your hair every time you make contact with her clit.

“F-fuck yes!” she moans, forgetting about the audience that she brought along. “J-just like that… Such a good boy… K-keep fucking me with that tongue, oh fuck!”

The sound of her pleasure is your favorite song, but it gets harder to hear as her thighs clamp around your ears. No matter; you’re doing this for her and not for you, after all. Double your efforts to please her, work your fingers into her hole while you flick your tongue against her clit. Don’t worry about the cramping in your tongue or the lack of oxygen in your lungs. All the pain is worth it for your mistress.

You feel her entire body contract as her orgasm overtakes, nearly collapsing on top of you in the process. You do your best to support her body, all while drinking up her nectar like it’s the first drop of rainfall during a long drought. The familiar tanginess hits your tongue, a flavor that you crave more than the fancy dinner she treated you on your first night together.

“H-holy shit…” Gaeul stutters, holding onto your shoulders for support as she catches her breath. “Get on the chair… I-I wanna ride you…”

You notice her legs are still shaking underneath her. “A-are you sur-”

“I said get on the fucking chair!”

You quickly jump to your feet and do as you're told, subtly making sure Gaeul doesn’t fall over before moving from underneath her. She silently scorns you with a furious glare for not immediately following her orders. The rest of the girls watch with bated breath, not used to this side of her.

Gaeul makes quick work of your jeans and your boxers, roughly squeezing your shaft in between her fingers. “Are you gonna keep fucking disobeying me, or are you gonna follow my instructions like a good boy?” she whispers harshly into your ear.

You squirm underneath her grasp, the pain only turning you on even more. “I-I’ll be a good boy, mistress. I s-swear.”

“U-um…” Wonyoung nervously interjects. “Isn’t this a bit much, Gaeul? He looks like he’s in pain.”

Gaeul wraps her other hand around your neck, her palm pushing against your Adam's apple. You moan against her touch, enjoying the lightheadedness. “Don’t you like this, baby? Don’t you love being a good little dog for me?” She teases, slowly stroking your cock.

“Y-yes, I love it so much. I love being my mistress’s dog,” you say, your breath shivering.

Gaeul turns back to Wonyoung. “See? He likes it,” she states simply. Wonyoung concedes and sinks into her chair, continuing to watch the sick and twisted display of affection in front of her with faint but growing interest.

With that out of the way, Gaeul turns back to you and hops into your lap, teasing your tip by dragging it along her wet slit. “Do you want this pussy, baby? Do you want to fill it with your disgusting cock?”

“Y-yes, mistress. I want you so badly.” Your skin crawls as jolts of electricity shoot through you with each slow drag of her lips. Any ounce of sanity you had left has completely turned into mush at this point. Despite your basest desires, you know better than to thrust into her without her permission. She has you right under her thumb, and any mistake could mean getting squashed without warning.

Her grip on your neck tightens. “Beg for it, bitch.”

“P-please… I-I need it… N-need you…” you manage to choke out, writhing under her grasp. She grins at you, shoving a messy kiss on your lips as she slams her hips down onto you. She rips a moan from deep within your chest as you grant her tongue free reign over yours, earning a hum of satisfaction in response. Her velvety walls grip onto your cock, squeezing any remaining energy you had left. You’re nothing more than a glorified dildo to be used by your merciful mistress.

Gaeul suddenly breaks the kiss, slapping you across the face. Blood rushes to your cheek, now marked red by her hand.

“Gaeul…!” Yujin gasps in shock. “Th-that’s-”

“Do it again!” you plead, silencing her concern. “P-please, mistress. Hit me again.”

Your mistress bites her lip at you, intensifying the gyration of her hips while blessing your cheeks with a frenzy of slaps. You grow dizzy with pain and pleasure, higher than any drug could ever take you.

“T-take it, you fucking dog!” she moans, continuing her assault on your face as her second orgasm rapidly approaches. You feel your own quickly following suit and tap her thigh to warn her, but Gaeul instead wraps her arms around you, showing no signs of slowing down her hips.

“I-I’m safe today, b-baby,” she whispers into your ear, much more gentle than she usually is. “Y-you can c-cum in me if you want… I f-fucking love you…”

The walls of her gorgeous pussy squeeze your shaft as she squirts onto your cock. You follow her soon after, covering her insides with your cum for the first time ever, clinging onto Gaeul’s delicate body. Your mind floats around in pure ecstasy, a feeling you never want to let go of. Gaeul lazily kisses on your neck as she recovers from her high.

“I… love you… too,” you breathlessly mutter before falling victim to exhaustion and collapsing against the chair. Gaeul climbs off of your lap and collects her discarded clothing off the ground, stumbling with each step.

“Well… that was interesting to say the least,” Yujin says after a long silence, finishing the recording on her phone.

“Send me that video later, that was really hot…” Rei whispers to her.

“Um, is he gonna be okay?” Liz asks. “I’m pretty sure we have a schedule tomorrow.”

Gaeul looks over to your now sleeping form and smiles with adoration. She kisses your reddened cheek, careful not to wake you. “He’ll be fine, I’m pretty sure,” she assures them.

Wonyoung stands up from her seat. “I’m glad you found a good… boytoy, or whatever you call him,” she says, patting Gaeul’s shoulder before leaving the meeting room. The rest of the girls follow suit, leaving Gaeul alone with you as she waits for you to wake up.

She slides a chair next to you and plants another gentle kiss on your cheek before sitting. “Good boy~” she whispers delicately, resting her head on your shoulder.

#ive #kim gaeul #ive gaeul #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #ive x male reader #ive x male oc #ive gaeul x male reader #ive gaeul x male oc #smut #gaeul smut #ive gaeul smut

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months

Text

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 7 ] || [ Chapter 9 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost is making a move.

Chapter 8: Awooga?

Surprisingly, your one-night stand with John last night did wonders for you. You felt energized all day and made it a point to clean everything instead of moping about like you have tended to do since your break-up with Ethan.

There were days when you considered texting him, neck deep in feelings you couldn’t quite move past, trying your best to stay afloat. Four years by his side couldn’t be forgotten in the blink of an eye, even if neither of you wanted anything to do with the other and had each other blocked on every platform imaginable.

It’s 4 P.M. on Saturday and you’re laying about in your living room wearing lounge clothes, your legs spread over your coffee table, eyes lazily locked on the TV as you fiddle with your phone, twirling it in your hand.

Eventually, you find yourself getting bored… So you decide to open Tinder one last time. You got what you wanted out of it. John scratched that itch… There’s no need to keep it. But it’s still funny enough to judge the men on that app even if you’re no longer doing anything with them.

You start Left Swiping on every profile that comes onto your screen, silently judging each one and murmuring to yourself. You get about 15 profiles in before you find yourself bored of even that.

Sighing and getting peckish, you decide to order yourself something good for dinner from a delivery app. Then, while waiting for the notification that your driver is on his way, you return to Tinder.

You open the DM tab, finding dozens of new DMs from guys and skim through them, none of them catching your eye. If you were in the mood, you’d maybe engage in convo with one of them, maybe annoy them a little… But they all seem so… bland.

Then you find Simon’s chat lost in the influx. You click on it for a moment, smiling a bit as you spot his politeness and excess professionalism for someone that’s on a dating app looking to get laid.

Biting your lip, your fingers glide across the keyboard as you shoot him a quick message.

you: so… are you thinking of ever uploading a new pic of yourself?

The Read indicator popped up under your DM almos instantly, and the bubbles indicating Simon was typing soon followed.

Simon: Look who it is. Simon: Hello to you too. Simon: No, I don’t intend to do that. you: hi, sorry. x you: why not? Simon: I don’t take this app seriously enough to want to show off what I look like. you: was that a dig at me for having a whole gallery? Simon: No. Simon: Unless you want it to be. 😉 you: 😱😱 you: SIMON DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI? Simon: I regret doing it now. you: NOOOO pls don’t! you: it was fun!!!! Simon: Alright then. Simon: How are you feeling today?

You’re genuinely shocked by his question and you find yourself smiling a bit.

you: i’m okay hru? Simon: Just okay? I’m fine thanks. you: yeah! feeling lazy. Simon: You had me worried you weren’t feeling well after last night.

Your cheeks warm up so quickly that you even sputter and sit up on the couch with a start.

you: you know?? Simon: Of course I know. Simon: John’s my captain. you: he told you??????? Simon: No. John’s old school. No kiss and tell. Simon: But we were all expecting he’d go home with you. Simon: Kind of an open secret. you: oh Simon: Does that bother you? you: i don’t think so? you: i guess i should’ve expected you would realize it Simon: I’m sorry. Simon: To be fair, I can tell you that you did a great job, he’s in a much better mood. you: that is not the praise you think it is 😭 Simon: I’m not used to giving praise, cut me some slack alright? you: right. i can see that. you: the whole - my team would say i push them - thing Simon: I stand by that. Simon: I’m not very good at talking. Simon: But I’m not a liar. you: i’ve noticed you: you tend to hate being called that. Simon: Lie enough on the job. Simon: When I’m talking to people outside of that, I like being as honest as I can be. you: i see you: sooo does that mean i can ask you things and you’ll be honest in the answers? Simon: About? you: you Simon: Within reason. you: what do you look like Simon: 6ft4, blonde, brown eyes. you: that’s it? Simon: I said ‘Within reason’. That means I won’t give you more than I think I should. you: infuriating 😤 Simon: That’s life.

Just as you’re about to answer, your doorbell rings. You were so absorbed in Simon’s chat that you didn’t notice your delivery driver arrived.

You slip on some shoes quickly and dash downstairs to the front door of the building to receive your food.

Once upstairs, you set your food on the table and unwrap everything, beginning to eat your Nando’s chicken as you try to resume texting Simon one-handed.

That’s when you spot the message he sent you while you were busy.

Simon: Added some new pics. Simon: Don’t say I never did anything for you. Simon: But I’ll take them down in 2 minutes so you better hurry up.

Eyebrows raised, you quickly click on his profile and rush to tap through to the new pictures.

The first one makes you chuckle. Of course, it’s him wearing a hoodie and a stupid mask… But the second one? Your jaw drops open and you find yourself swallowing dryly.

“Awooga…” You quip to yourself and giggle, amused at your own silliness as your eyes trail over every inch of exposed skin in Simon’s chest. Even if that’s not him, even if that’s just some… bloke he found online, it’s still a bloody fine picture.

Returning to the chat, you type a quick reply.

you: not bad Simon: Answered your questions? you: raised a couple more. Simon: Good. Simon: You keep them in your mind for later. you: why does it feel like you’re leaving?? Simon: Because I am. Duty calls. Simon: I’ll tell John you said 'Hi'. you: okay... you: be careful!

As soon as you sent that message you found yourself facepalming. Why do you sound like a concerned partner? You don’t even know this man. Any of them really. Even if you had one of them inside of you less than 24 hours ago.

You don't dwell too much on it because soon there's a message from Simon on the screen.

Simon: Always am. Don’t miss us too much.

Shaking your head, you set down your phone, locking the screen, and turning back to your peri-peri chicken and chips, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley x reader

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almostempty · 18 days

Text

Look at this photograph

(joel miller x f!reader)

The half sequel (Chapter 1.5) to Never made it as a wise man

WC: 3.5k | Part 1 | Other fics | Rating: 18+

Summary: you open Joel’s dick pic and (after examination) decide to give him a call

Note: it’s me ya boi (gn), back with more divorceddadrockdilf!joel bc you guys get me. i know y’all want them to fuck, and I want them to fuck too. unfortunately, this flowed through me first, and I am merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel.

so, until they get their freak nasty on, please enjoy this as a chapter 1.5, with gratuitous dick pic art critique and crankin’ it over the phone <3 don’t worry, he’s still a lil pathetic. mistakes and bad jokes are all on me.

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where ch.1 ended, dick pic descriptions, alternating pov, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, it’s all just phone sex, but edge yourself through it with fond memories of ch. 1, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc

inspo playlist i found on spotify: Divorced Dad Rock: BANGERZ

thanks: to @hellishjoel for hosting the #hotdilfsummerchallenge and to everyone who enjoyed part 1

@gothcsz i promise fuckboy!joel is cookin, he’s just in the crockpot rn. he’s gotta tenderize like a white lady’s pinterest recipe for pulled pork.

* i tried to tag everyone who wanted more, but if you don’t wanna be here i’ll remove it <3 or if i missed you and you want to be tagged next time pls let me know

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you blurt out after opening the message from Joel. The vulgar dick pick sends a prickly worm of arousal slithering down your spine.

Without thinking, you tilt the phone down toward your chest, and your eyes shoot up like you’ve got to make sure nobody saw your naughty message. Warmth blooms on your cheeks as the flash of embarrassment starts to dissolve. You don’t need to hide.

You’re in your bed, in your apartment, wearing Joel’s grubby Creed t-shirt. The one that smells like Degree Sport and a Jiffy Lube break room. You're free to look at all the dick pics your heart desires. And that’s what you’re going to do.

The wiggle of bashful energy turns into a squirm as you shift your hips, seeking a comfy position in bed. The t-shirt bunches up under your back and you wonder if the unique Joel scent of it will linger on your pillow beneath your shoulders. You knew pilfering the shirt on the way out the door was a good move, and now you get to enjoy your trophy. It makes it feel like the broad-as-a-barn-door DILF himself was still close enough to touch you.

It gives you another bright shudder when you think about the noises he made when he came in your hand earlier. The disappointed grunts of “fuck, wait” and how he tried to choke down the throaty groan that came from deep in his chest. Fuck. The perverted gremlins that have a permanent residence in your mind have been roused by the digital dick, and now they chitter and squawk at you. More! More! More!

You reopen the message, and seeing it gives you another rush. You save the picture to your phone storage. For your personal collection. Mine now, big boy. Your chin starts to dip towards your chest. It’s like you’re giving your phone the Kubrick stare with the ghost of a smirk. You’re free to take your time with this one. And you can be as much of a creep as you want. That makes you sigh softly and sink deeper against your pillows.

Before this afternoon, it was titillating when Joel would pop up in your mind's eye with his slutty slo-mo scenes. The one where he was bent over your car's engine like Megan Fox in that Transformers movie. Or, that damn happy trail tease with the t-shirt-sweat-rag move. You had just enough imagery to let your dirty thoughts take the wheel.

And, god, you had a good production team in your mind for projects starring Joel. Adding this will give the team a whole lot more to work with. You can hear them crashing around your conscious like the Animaniacs on the Warner Brothers lot. Horny chaos goblin mode activated.

Now that you have time to study the image, from the luxury of your microfiber sheets and lamplit bedroom, you let it get pervy. It’s your first real, lingering look–earlier today, you were so busy trying to rile him up in his jeans that you didn’t even pull it out.

It had somehow been even more delicious that way. Having him all needy and unable to stop himself from making a mess in your hand. And not just the noises, but the erratic thrusts into your tight fist? The heat of his pulsing length as he forgot himself? Yeah, you’re gonna remember that one.

But now? Now you need the visual. If the devil is in the details, you have a new neighbor with horns and a tail.

You zoom in on everything. Holding your phone closer to your face than necessary, like how do we enhance this bitch?

And holy shit.

Drool pools in your mouth and between your legs. You have the knee-jerk reaction to lick your phone.

You can hear Joel’s voice from earlier today. All husky and grumbly, arguing that you really were a slut for him, like, “You are, aren’t you, though? You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt just to see me?” He might be touch-starved enough to cream his jeans, but you just know he’s got a nasty mouth in bed, and you’ve got to find out firsthand. Soon. There’s no reason not to, right?

You pause when a flicker of reasoning tickles the back of your neck.

You’re back to looking in your review mirror in Joel’s driveway. The last-ditch attempt at checking your ego before you marched to his front door like a Halloween hoe bag version of Betty Crocker.

You had told yourself you weren’t trying to fuck your (almost) friend’s (sort of) dad. Told yourself there was nothing to pursue, and even if there was, you wouldn’t bite.

You like Ellie. She’s been (mostly) welcoming to you. You told yourself not to fuck anything up with the only person that’s got a single one of your jokes at your new job.

You were just bringing some food as a friendly gesture. The fresh visuals to add to your spank bank reel were supposed to be a harmless bonus. Okay, maybe it was a stretch to say you had rolled up to Joel’s driveway with pure intentions.

And it was an even bigger stretch–when he added that third finger while he finger fucked you on the kitchen counter—wait, no. It was an even bigger stretch when you had told yourself you probably weren’t his type anyway.

Like, that guy? With the fridge full of Coors Banquet? With those ugly Oakley sunglasses that you know are featured in his only picture on social media that isn’t a car or truck? The guy with all the words to Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” and Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” memorized?

Nah, deep down, you knew. You knew there was no way that middle-aged bachelor would turn down any action. But you hadn’t planned on actually making a move, especially not a handjob in the middle of the kitchen.

That’s on Joel for leaving the door open while trying to rub one out to some bimbo on Brazzers. And for barking at you in that sexy, angry voice. And for teasing you with the bulge in his oil-stained jeans. What were you supposed to do?

Something must be really rotting in the logic department of your brain.

Hey! The gremlin voice in your head is still shouting at you. Hey!! Why are we not tasting that dick yet?!! You’re back from your daydream and the excuses you crafted for your behavior, back to laying in your bed with Joel’s dick pic emitting a bright glow in your hand.

You still do want to lick the screen.

Fortunately for your immune system, you control your tongue. The critical part of you expels a sigh when you zoom out and take in the picture.

It’s undoubtedly a nice cock, but the image as a whole? Yikes.

Why do men have to be so fucking thick? And blunt? Wait, now you’re just describing the slightly blurry boner lighting up your face. Thick as in dense. How can men be so dense?

No imagination or creativity. No patience.

You shake your head slightly, scoffing. No wonder you caught him hunched over his cracked phone screen. It was probably the first video loaded on the only site he had saved.

No sweet, sweet, buildup, setting the mood, or getting cozy. Just whippin’ it out midday or snapping a photo in some ratty sweats.

Like you’ve never been that touch-starved or down bad?

You ignore that voice to continue your art critique.

The photo you sent is… sexy.

Sultry. A flirty tease. It says, “Look who has your shirt? Am I wearing it in bed? Do you think I'm wearing anything else?”

It’s all implied in the look in your eye and the picture's composition. The tease of the soft curves on the underside of your breasts, asking if he remembers what they felt like. Your hand bunching up the shirt, asking if he remembers the slide of that fist around his cock. If he remembers those fingers, the ones you sucked his sticky spend off of.

Such delicately crafted imagery. Personalized erotic fine art.

But men are so crude about it. He sees your tasteful, sexy pic, and immediately, the best his caveman brain can come up with is: send her ur dick! STAT!! Hard cock! Now!!

And, of course, he did. Taken in the dark with the flash on, making ominous shadows in the background. His old charcoal gray sweats are pulled down just enough to expose everything he’s offering.

The color is slightly blown out from the flash, and it’s a touch blurry where his phone didn’t autofocus quickly enough. His hand looks like it’s straight up, just choking the base of his cock. It’s jarring.

But that’s really the “man” of it all, right? Nothing subtle or demure about a rock-hard erection jutting towards you, reaching like it could get to you on its own if it just could get a little bit harder. No, there’s nothing coy about the raw thoughts of a man with no blood left in his brain who’s just aching to get inside you, either.

And fuck if that doesn’t start to override your critical analysis.

The glare from the flash reflects in the beads of precome rolling down his rosy tip. Mouth wateringly delicious. Your blood rushes to your pussy, filling your tender sex with heat and a deep, needy itch. It makes you dopey and silly. Not cock drunk, but like, dick pic buzzed.

You know it felt sizeable in your hand earlier, but you aren’t an expert at estimating size from a through-the-pants handjob. You try to recreate your own grip around nothing to estimate the size.

You giggle to yourself when you realize you're just a woman in her bed staring at her hand, jerking an invisible cock. The horny goblins aren’t amused, though. They’re sick of the daydreaming and distractions. They’re picking fights with the rest of your mind. Throwing rocks and sticks, shrieking and hissing.

The part of your brain that was griping about how men used to write love letters and respect the art of romance is getting quieter and further from your faculty for caring. You can hear its muffled shouts, and you assure that voice that you won’t give it all up this easily. Then, you completely tune it out.

The last brain cell with a complaint has you rolling your eyes. You have to be ovulating or something because it’s wholly debased the way this guy is doing it for you.

He’s just shameless with it.

You sent him tasteful underboob, and he gives you jumpscare dick-in-the-dark! How is this supposed to escalate? He gave it all up immediately! You send another picture, and he sends you his money shot? What’s he gonna do to give you more? Send you an asshole shot? That one makes you snort. You bet he would do it, too, if you asked.

Oh, that gives you a better idea. He’s not getting another picture from you at all. You tap on his name and tap the call icon. Of course, this horny motherfucker answers immediately. You aren’t sure it even rang before you’re connected to his porny bedroom voice.

“What are you wearing, dollface?”

“I already showed you. Call me dollface again, and I’m hanging up.”

You can hear his breathing like he’s got the mic on his phone in his mouth. That would typically drive you fucking nuts, but right now, you wanna hear his heavy breath against your ear and feel it hot against your skin.

“All right,” he speaks slowly, distracted. You know why. “You wanna be my slut, instead?”

Fuck. That has you throbbing between your legs, but he doesn’t get to know that yet.

“I already told you,” you keep your voice low and soft, “you don’t get to call me a slut for you, not with your behavior.” You strain, trying to hear any other noises, but his mic is probably clogged with dust from his shop or lint from the pocket of his sweats. You can just hear his fucking breathing.

“What behavior, baby?” he rasps.

“You always jump straight to sending a picture of your cock?”

You hear the soft snort through the phone. Followed by a deeper, throatier noise. A noise that makes you go cross-eyed and has you running a hand down to your naked lower half to tease yourself.

“You always steal a man’s clothes after you come on his fingers?”

You don’t really care what he asked. His voice makes your tongue go numb. Your mind goes blank. You start slowly, coating your own fingers in your slick arousal and drawing circles with a light touch.

You hum a noncommittal response into the phone.

“You look good in my shirt, baby, fuck,” he trails off breathlessly. The idea of you in his clothes gets him too close.

You don’t answer, and he’s too far gone to wait and tease.

He’s been wound up since you took off this afternoon, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that you sent him that pic when he had just gotten into bed.

It had taken ages to get his brother out of the shop this afternoon, and then Joel completely fucked up when he mentioned you and the lasagna. He had to begrudgingly host Tommy for dinner when he couldn’t come up with a better excuse than saying, “I’m gonna need you to fuck off so I can deal with the aching balls I’ve got from your surprise visit scaring away the woman I had my fingers knuckle deep inside.”

But when he was finally alone, it was like fate; your text came through right after he flopped onto his bed. His semi-stiff cock had sprung to full mast at the sight of you. The shirt he knew he didn’t fuckin’ lose, your soft curves, and the expression on your face. Like a vixen. Your PG-13 tease would do more for him than any X-rated video.

Knowing you were thinking about him and that you wanted him to know? That had him throbbing. He already knew from the desire in your eyes earlier today that you wanted more.

He could swear his fingers still hold the lingering flavor of your wet cunt. The visceral memory of you has him on edge. When he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, he has to pause, holding firmly in place. His body screams and aches for release, but he’s determined to keep it in check. He doesn’t want to blow his load until he gets a response from you.

He fights his urges, trying not to fuck his own fist in a frantic race to come.

But, fuck, it’s difficult when he can imagine the sounds you’d make as you sank onto his cock for the first time. The face you’d make. Your tight, wet walls hugging him just right. Like, he’s where he’s meant to be.

And the way you would look, bouncing on top of him. Your tits, your blissed-out face, the way your soft lips would part when you called out his name and cried for more.

Those lips.

The way he’d love to see them swollen and slobbering around the base of his cock. Fuck. His hips buck reflexively, and he hisses out a breath through his clenched teeth. When his phone lights up with your name, he answers before it can make a sound. You’re so bold. He likes that. It plasters a saucy grin on his face.

And now, with your breathy voice crackling through his janky phone speaker, he’s not gonna last long. You've got him losing his composure for the second time in one day. His whole body is rigid. His toes flex and snap unconsciously, and his jaw tenses. He hears your soft moan, and his thoughts are overflowing. He has no filter left.

“Yeah, baby? You moaning for me?” His hips punch up into his fist, and he gives in, allowing himself firm, severe strokes. “You’ve got me so hard. You moaning for my cock?”

You are so not gonna answer that one. If the next words out his mouth are, “Yeah, you like that?” you’re gonna block him for that. But it is undeniably hot to hear him already so worked up. You just know he’s gonna be coming all over himself again for you, and that really does make you moan just for him.

Your noises earn you another growly groan from Joel that you’d kill to hear again. The more uninhibited his noises are, the louder you get in response.

“You using your fingers, or you have a toy?” his question is punctuated with a grunt.

“Mm, just fingers,” you purr, finally granting him an actual response as you roll your hips. Having Joel on the line gives you a heady sense of satisfaction. Wondering what’s going to come out of his filthy mouth next gives you a shiver of anticipation.

“I know that sweet pussy is just achin’ to be filled again.” Correct.

“Yes.”

“S’right, baby, I know.”

Joel whimpering on the phone for you is absolutely going to get you off. Your hips chase your own fingers. You switch your phone audio to speakerphone and drop it on your pillow so you can use both hands. Pinching at your own nipples as if it were Joel’s big hand under your smuggled shirt.

“Tell me,” he pants, “who do you need to fill it for you?”

“You, Joel.”

“Fuck,” he chokes out, “you wanna ride this cock, huh baby?”

“Mhmm.” Bingo. Right again. You wish you could feel the pressure of him inside of you, massaging and soothing away the agony. The weight of his body atop of yours, so solid and secure. You can just about feel the pressure of his pelvis grinding into you. The friction from the coarse curls at the base of his cock getting you closer and closer.

“Know you’d do so good,” he cuts himself off with a low noise, “so damn sexy.”

“What else would you do with me?” You wanna hear it. For your own fantasy and to know what he’s into.

“I’d have you taking me down your throat til you’re crying on it for me, fuck,” a primal noise erupts from him.

Face fucking. Of course. You can’t deny that when he says it, your body responds instantaneously. Your pussy floods eagerly at the idea, and your cheeks burn hot from the visual he gives you. You swallow down your moans, and you can imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the strain of trying to swallow around his cock.

“You wanna come down my throat?” As if that isn’t a fucking siren song that would make him steer a fleet of ships into a cliff? Your salacious words are too much.

“Shit. Yeah, baby, wanna watch you swallow for me.” You let all your moans and gasps flow freely for him to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ close,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out his mouth, “let me hear it, baby,” he can’t stop his pending bliss either. “Please, baby, I can’t, oh f-fuck,” he cuts himself off with another primitive grunt, and that’s precisely what your cavewoman cunt wanted to hear.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The horny goblins chant out loud this time. You can envision sweaty, pleading Joel lurching toward a reckless, full-body climax.

You’re far from grace when the crude sounds he lets out turn you into an uncivilized beast. You hear him gasping, growling, and whining for you. It plunges you into a staggering orgasm. Rolling waves of ecstasy leave you panting and sweating.

You lie in bed, chest rising and falling beneath the Creed logo. You’re left stunned at the intensity. A dreamy smile spreads across your face, and warm contentment, like honey, pours slowly over your muscles. Relaxing you as your tension softens and you turn to pick your phone back up.

Why was it so wholly consuming just to listen to him? Imagining the mess he made again,

because of you.

Maybe you’re just made for each other.

You and Joel.

Oh, god. You should start listening to Alanis Morissette and Evanescence and trade your car for a 1990s-era Toyota 4runner and a pack of Marlboro Smooths. Really lean into matching his freak and the divorced alt-rock vibes.

You laugh softly into your phone before a deep sigh possesses you, and you nearly fall asleep. You stretch and smile, letting your heavy eyelids rest.

He’s muttering something at you, catching his breath from the stress of being that fucking horned up for you all evening. And the overexertion of lasting long enough to hear your sweet cries of release.

“You’re unreal,” his smoky voice rings with awe. “Got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager.”

You snort at the juxtaposition of his tender voice and crude comment before ending the call with a whispered, “Goodnight.”

It shouldn’t make you smile.

But he’s somehow such an enticing disaster. A cliche lonely bachelor, a cocksure idiot who knows he’s got a big dick and a generous guy who was willing to fix a stranger's car.

You shouldn’t be trying to justify it, but you know he had you figured out earlier.

You may be sated tonight, but you won’t be able to rest.

Not until you get your hands on that DILF – or rather, your pussy on that dick.

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

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infiniteimaginings · 7 months

Note

Could you write some angsty Anthony bridgerton x wife reader. Maybe he took his anger out on her cus he was stressed or something.💋😭😫🩷

A Loving Marriage (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Anthony had married you, he adored you during your courtship. He showed his affections through floral arrangements, joyous laughter, your dance card always had his name first. When he married you though, some things changed. He would be warm, but it slowly dimmed. He was always in his office, he never spoke to you, why does he do so? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her Warnings: Angst Word Count: 4.0k A/N: I love angst, I love it! I looked at this request three times, midnight struck, and I turned into a writing goblin.

It had been a nice day, you had finally drawn your husband, Anthony Bridgerton, out of the house to have a delightful picnic with you. The two of you were discussing anything but pressing matters, laughing, eating the small sandwiches, drinking the sweet but tart lemonade. Occasionally your fingers would touch, a burst of energy escaping into your bodies until your fingers interlocked, accepting the warmth with open arms.

The sun was shining brightly, the clouds perfect white and fluffed into shapes the two of you pointed out and playfully teased each other for. The slight tilt of his head when you spoke of a cloud being shaped as one thing, his squinted eyes and scrunched nose were all that mattered to you. The way the sun kissed his skin and a few freckles had come to light, it was so beautiful to you, he was so beautiful.

When Anthony turned his gaze to you from the heavily brightened sky, the corners of his eyes crinkled with the smile he gave you. His toothy grin was matched with him asking, “What is it?” You paid no mind to the question, simply smiling at your husband, your heart warming as you stared at him in adoration. You shook your head, “I just love you.” You told him, the comment making him smile wide, his teeth showing in his grin. The day was beautiful, and neither of you could deny that fact. To make the day even more beautiful, flowers were spread around your blanket on the ground, showing proof of spring.

You began to ramble a bit about the newest items you saw in the shop, Anthony just listening with loving eyes. A bee had hummed and buzzed as it circled around your head, when Anthony noticed he straightened up, his eyes widening a bit in fear. He went to move the dreadful creature from you but the bee had found its attention with him instead, buzzing around his head. Anthony had fallen still, horrified.

Anthony had just returned from shooting with his father, Edmund Bridgerton. The elder man had clasped his shoulder, telling him that in due time he will be able to show someone his best. He gave him a truthfully meaningful message about having to show someone your worst before you can show them your best, but the message didn’t stay in Anthonys head very long.

The elder had noticed a group of vibrant purple Hyacinths within their gardens, his wife's favorite flower. He decided to pick the flowers with a hum, expressing how Anthonys mother would love them. The younger boy laughed and began to pick a few himself, his father standing up, swatting a very persistent bee, Anthony shaking his head playfully. He expressed how his younger sister would be quite jealous until he noticed his father had not responded.

”Father?” Anthony spoke, turning to Edmund, the man was touching his neck. “The bloody thing stung me.” He told his son, moving his hand a bit with a twitch of his mouth. A bee sting didn’t mean much, so Anthony nodded and continued to pick a few flowers until his father began to gasp for breaths. Anthony stood, walking to Edmund, “Father, what is it?” He asked, and that question would be repeated a multitude of times with no verbal response.

Edmund Bridgerton had turned to his son, a bright red patch on his neck where the bee stung him, his face extremely pale, his eyes almost black as he struggled to breathe. Anthony watched his father struggle for air and collapse into his arms. He couldn’t even hear when he yelled for someone to help, he didn’t even hear when his pregnant mother, Violet Bridgerton, had come running down the small hill after seeing them through the open door in the back of their home.

Everything happened so fast and all Anthony could process was his father reaching up to cup his mothers cheek one last time, before his hand fell and the light left his eyes. Edmund Bridgerton died that day, Violet Bridgerton became a widow that day, he and his siblings lost their father that day.

Anthony was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts when you swatted the bee away mindlessly. You hummed with a breathless chuckle, “You know it’s spring when the bees are out.” you spoke, looking in the basket for another small snack, unaware of the daze Anthony had just been in. He blinked a bit, looking around as he deeply inhaled, trying not to ruin your nice moment. He clapped his hands to his knees, “Well then.” He began, “I think I have some paperwork to attend to.” He told you, standing up and brushing himself off. You looked up rather quickly from your spot on the blanket, “Can’t it wait? We were having such a nice time.” You said, pouting ever so slightly.

He shook his head, leaning down to you, pressing his lips to yours in a short kiss. “Unfortunately it can not, enjoy the rest of the picnic.” He spoke hastily, walking back into the home, leaving you alone to watch the sky.

Days had passed, Anthony had not joined you again for a picnic, nor had he joined you for any sort of meal after that day. You didn’t understand why he felt the need to lock himself in his office, what was so interesting about paperwork he could tend to at any time? You were worried for him, you knew the footmen in the household brought him food, you just weren’t sure if he ate any of it.

With that, you decided to pay your husband a visit. You dismissed the footman at the door and simply knocked, a muffled ‘Come in’ came from the other side of the door. You gently opened it, smiling sweetly at Anthony who looked up at you, expressionless. You closed the door behind you, observing your surroundings and your husband who sat behind a desk, papers piling it. He looked like he hadn’t slept, if he had then he looked like her hadn’t slept well.

You walked to him, slow steps, the heels of your shoes sounding muffled as they clicked upon the polished floors. “You’ve locked yourself away.” You told him, standing in front of his desk, fingers twiddling in front of you. Anthony kept his eyes on you, quill pen in hands, plenty of papers around that needed signatures. He cleared his throat, “Well, some matter can not be left.” He told you simply, head looking back down to his work.

You walked around the desk, hands smoothing along his shoulders, he tensed more than relaxed. “You need a break.” You hummed to him, gently pressing your hands into the blades of his shoulders. Anthony leaned his head back into the chair, sighing, “I’m sorry my love, I just have so much work to do.” He told you with closed eyes, his mouth in a frown. Your expression mirrored his and you turned his chair a bit, taking his hands in yours. “We should go to town, go for a walk.” You suggested, “Maybe we could pick some flowers and visit your family.” You continued on, hands holding his slightly larger ones in yours.

You saying that seemed to invoke some sort of reaction from your husband, he removed his hands from you, “No.” He spoke harshly, turning back to the papers. You huffed, trying to get him to look at you, he wouldn’t budge. “Why do you refuse to spend time with me? Is your paperwork that important?” You pressed on, standing at his side, pure disbelief on your face.

Anthony put his clenched fists on the desk, “Yes, it is!” He spoke loudly, not looking at you. “You are interrupting very pressing matters, so go.” He told you, head turning to you ever so slightly, one hand raised to point to the door.

The outburst had shocked you, you stood there with a hand to your chest, a frown on your face, tears threatening to prick your eyes. “Anthony I merely hoped…” You began, trying to find the words, instead you found yourself stumbling over them. Anthony shook his head, hand to his temple as he looked back down to the papers, “I care not for your wishes, leave!” HeYou stood up straight, swallowing harshly with a small sniffle. You bowed your head to him, “Of course Mr. Bridgerton.”You spoke, walking out the room, hands clasped together and head held high as you left him alone to his work.

Anthony had not come to the bedroom that night and you had not visited his office for the rest of the day. Neither of you had come down for dinner, eating respectively in separate rooms.

The next day, mid afternoon, you walked into the office area with a tea tray. Typically, a maid would bring it in for you, but you had seemed to reject the idea and believed you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. Anthony had heard the sound of the door opening, no knock, no announcement. He looked up and saw you setting the tea tray on the low table in front of the seats in the office. The tray had two teacups and saucers, a teapot with freshly brewed tea, a sugar bowl, a milk jug, and a strainer. All of which were porcelain with multicolored, delicately painted flowers and the Bridgerton name along the side.

Anthony sighed deeply, he didn’t look irritated, he just looked tired. “ Did I not tell you to leave me be?” He asked since you had not greeted him. You didn’t look at him as you prepared your cup of tea, “That is such a way to speak to your wife Mr. Bridgerton.” You spoke sarcastically, stirring in your sugar and taking a small sip to see if it were to your tastes. A warm smile formed on your face after you drank the warm liquid, sitting comfortably in the chair a little ways across from Anthony's desk, a table in the way of you being directly in front of his desk.

Anthony clasped his hands together, elbows on the desk, “What are you doing?” He asked, lips pursed. You placed your cup on the saucer, “If you truly believe I will let you sit in this office and rot,” You spoke, finally looking at him, “you are gravely mistaken.” You told him, expressionless. Anthony tilted his head to the side, he didn’t believe he was ‘rotting’ in the office space, but he couldn’t speak since you beat him to it. “I shall remain here and tend to you until you see fit to conduct yourself as a gentleman.” You stated, hands in your lap, straightening your posture, “Or to put sourly,” You began, “an adult.”

“Do not treat me like a child.” Anthony told you, hands dropping back to the desk, no movement towards the quills.

“Then do not act like one.”

“What has prompted this?”

You pretend to think for a moment, pulling up your hand to count, “Your blatant disregard for your wife in your own home,” You spoke as you put up a finger, “your refusal to acknowledge her presence or engage with her” you continued, putting another finger up, “or even talk to her.” You finished, putting up the last finger, slightly glaring at him.

There was silence from Anthony as he bit the inside of his cheek, twitching his nose. Due to the silence, you continued to speak, “I vowed to cherish and support you through all, but I will not endure your silence.” You explained, shaking your head a bit with your words. Anthony sighed, moving a few papers out of his way, “You are aware that traditionally wives do not-”

“You did not marry me due to my traditional nature.”

There was more silence from your husband until he ran a hand through his hair. “You will not leave until I discuss ill with you?” He asked, seeming to be contemplating the idea that he just spoke into existence. You nodded, “Precisely.”

“Very well, let’s discuss ills.”

The Bridgerton man stood from his desk and strode to sit next to you. You gestured to the tea and he shook his head, leaning forward, clasping his hands. His leg shook and tapped the floor as he struggled to find the words, “My fathers death left my mother heartbroken, she never remarried.” He spoke suddenly. The words confused you a bit, was that why he had been so closed off? You turned to him fully, crossing your leg over the other, “Your mothers strength,” You began, taking a breath, “is commendable.” You commented, the Brdigerton in front of you chose not to look at you but he nodded. “She said her love for your father was true and her devotion for your father lies strong.” You continued on, thinking about the older woman and how powerful she was for standing strong for her children. “She does not need to marry if she does not wish to.” You completed your thought at his words about his mother.

Anthony put his hands on his knees, straightening himself. He sucked his teeth, “I understand that,” He told you, “but you do not understand how she flinches when they refer to her as Dowager.” He continued on.

At parties they would announce Violet Bridgerton as Dowager VIscountess Bridgerton, and they have for the many years since Edmund Bridgerton had passed.

“My mother remains a widow.” Anthony continued, voice slightly cracking when he thought about the way his mothers hand would tighten around his arm when someone greeted her as ‘Dowager’.

You nodded in understanding, no matter how strong Violet was, it still hurt. You just didn’t process why that caused him to pull from you. “Nevertheless, I am not,” You told him, the words causing him to look put his face in his hands, “hence my lack of understanding of your coldness and sudden refusal to be with me.” You spoke, staring right at him, hands in your lap picking at your nails.

“What if you find yourself a widow?” Anthony asked suddenly, now fully turned to you.

“Pardon me?” You asked blankly, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted.

“What if you find yourself to be a widow?” He repeated, slightly differently.

“If you suspect you may act recklessly, you must inform me at once." You told him cautiously, hand moving towards him, but he pulled back. "My father's passing was but a consequence of being outdoors.” He stated blankly, eyes staring forward, distantly. He never talked about his father's death, it wasn’t a topic he was very open about. “He committed no recklessness, yet the heavens saw fit to claim him.” Anthony's hands were beginning to shake before he clenched them into fists, “A virtuous man, struck down."

“Anthony-”

“What if I do not live a graciously long life?” He asked, head snapping to you, “What if I meet my end, just as young as my father?” He asked another question that you had no answer to other than, “Anthony you will live a long life-”

He stood abruptly, face red, eyes watering, “How could you possibly know that!” He yelled at you, “You do not!” He continued to yell, face such an angry red it almost scared you. He didn’t seem angry though, his eyes were filled with fear, he was scared. You did not expect him to yell or be so emotional, it hurt you deep in your heart to see him look so terrified about what could happen.

Anthony began to pace, hands in his hair and desperately pulling at his collar. “I didn’t even wish to marry,” He told you, seemingly muttering to himself. “I feared leaving my wife alone, especially if we were to have children.” He continued, not gazing at you at all.

You stood, slowly walking to him, “Yet, here you continue to stand,” You said, “alive,and wed.” You reminded him, concern flowing through you as he paced.

He stopped walking, looking at the wedding ring on his finger. “My mother was left with eight children to raise alone.” He mumbled, having to clear his throat from how low he was speaking. “I, the eldest, lost my father when I was eighteen left to carry his title and responsibility.” He spoke to you, reminding himself of all the information he didn’t know when he was eighteen and how he had to figure it all out, how he had to be the man of the house at such a young age. “I do not wish for you and our future child to endure the same fate.”

You were quiet, “Then why did you marry me?” You whispered, your expression was slightly crinkled but you were listening. Anthony had turned to you, a soft but sad expression on his face. He gently held your hands, looking into your eyes. “My affection for you was undeniable.” He confessed, cupping one of your cheeks with his large hand, a bit of sweat dripping down his forehead from being so worked up. “It was so difficult to be inexplicably in love with you and watch for you to have other suitors.” He continued, drawing a breath, “I was drawn to you, as a moth to flame.”

You licked your lips, “Yet, you still harbor fears of leaving me-”

“The responsibility of children and a title you cannot shed unless you remarry.” He interrupted you, thumbs rubbing at your cheeks. He looked at you desperately, desperate for you to understand how he was feeling, but you could not. “Which I have no intention to do.” You retorted to his comment, he is the only man you believe you’ll ever love and nothing will change that.

Anthony nodded, dropping his hands from your face. He remembered how he wasn’t there for his mother, for his family sometimes. “I acknowledge that I was a challenge to deal with for my mother.” He spoke, and you were aware of such things. He had admitted these feats to you during your courtship, during small corners of vulnerability. “I just do not wish for you to face similar struggles alone.” He finished his thought, ultimately refusing to meet your gaze as he found the bookcases to be far more interesting.

You shook your head, “She did not endure it alone.” You stated matter-of-factly. Anthony looked up, eyes blinking in confusion, “What?” He asked you, so you continued. “Your mother, she had you, she had Benedict, Colin, Daphne. All of her children were her solace and support.” You expressed to him, reminding him of all of his siblings. They all had each other, they were all her shoulder to cry on just as she was theirs.

Anthony sighed for the thousandth time within that conversation, “We were not easy children.” He told you. Eloise didn’t wish to marry, he had been such a terrible man of the house in the beginning, Benedict did not wish for the responsibility, Colin rushed into things too quickly, Daphne had so much going on when she was named the diamond of the season, his younger siblings couldn’t even fathom the world they were in.

“No child ever is.” You told him simply, holding his hand gently. This time, he did not pull away.

You smiled at him, kissing his cheek gently and pulling back to look him into his eyes. “Now,” You started, letting out the puff of air that was compressing your chest the entire conversation. “I’d prefer if we do not speak the subject of your demise as if it were to greet us at dawn.” You told him, the comment causing him to chuckle a bit, holding your hand a little tighter. “You will come down for dinner and we will enjoy a meal together.” You told him and he nodded, “I will be down in a moment, I shall see the papers are put away first.” He spoke, looking around to all the papers scattered on his desk and some even on the floor.

You left him to the papers and asked your maid to get dinner started, the woman asking if there were any preferences you wanted. The door had closed and Anthony was soon left alone.

Once the door had closed Anthony had begun to gasp for breath, unbuttoning the top of his shirt for air. His chest began to have as he leaned against the door, tears filling his eyes. He furiously wiped at them, trying so hard to push them back but he couldn’t stop them when a choked sob left his lips. His hands were shaking when they reached his face to wipe at his eyes hurriedly. The topic of conversation was difficult, you were so sure that the two of you would grow old together with your children, that you would not have to worry about being a widow, but Anthony was not so sure.

Everyday he saw a little bit of his father in himself and it terrified him. Such a good man was taken from the world by something as simple as a bee and it scared Anthony of everything around him. Sure, before he was not scared of death, even going as far as to call for a duel where he was prepared to die for his sister's honor. But now, he had you, and he did not wish to leave you.

Anthony shakily clasped his hands in a prayer, praying for all the time in the world to be with you. Praying for more time than his father had, praying for a chance. He muttered small prayers, “Please, I just wish to be with her, I will never ask for anything else.” He cried out quietly, eyes closed, tears pouring from his eyes. “I just want time, time with her, please.” He begged quietly, his prayers in reflection to how lonely he saw his mother was. She had so many children but he knew that his mother wished for his father to be there to help her everyday.

A knock had sounded at the door, the noise caused Anthony to stand quickly and rush to the other side of the room with documents, back to the door. He cleared his throat, sniffling one last time, “Enter.” He spoke, the door opening.

“Lord Bridgerton, dinner is served.” A footman had announced, standing in the doorway.

Anthony put the documents away, wiping his tears without the man noticing. “I shall be there in just a moment's time.” He told the man, putting some documents into the drawers. The man nodded and closed the door, going to inform you of the comment.

The door closed once more and Anthony felt his legs were so weak that he had almost collapsed into the furniture. One of his hands gripped the edge of the drawer, the other clawing at his chest. He felt as if every time he took a breath his chest would tighten, he felt nauseous, dizzy. The room was spinning and his vision was blurry from his tears. It almost seemed as if he were dying, but he was not, everything felt like so much but nothing was happening.

It all felt like too much.

He tried to take a few more deep breaths, the pain ceasing and his vision returning back to normal. He slowly exhaled, blinking and wiping his tears. He clenched his jaw as he stood up straight, muttering some words of ‘man of the house’, ‘loving husband’, ‘time’. He couldn't connect the words even if he tried, all he knew was that he was going to dinner.

All he knew was that his father's words rang in his head, but he kept shaking them from his mind. “You cannot show someone your best without allowing them to see your worst.” If only his father had told him how difficult it was to show someone your worst. How frightening it was to show true vulnerability, to find the words to explain feelings you don’t even understand fully yourself.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #angst #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #Infinite Imaginings

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kokomyass · 7 months

Text

Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters

Genshin x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham

synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!

Notes: you are immortal in Neuvillette's part, you are a bad bitch in Wriothesley's part, you are part of the Academia for Alhaitham's part and hella shy

a/n: it was NOT a narrow win, this one won by far...so I hope you enjoy!!

also I might do a part 2 depending on how many people like it....and if you want any characters added just drop me a message 💜⭐️💜⭐️

Neuvillette

The Traveller and Paimon had decided to make an unexpected visit to the Palais Mermonia to see Neuvillette and Furina since they happened to be in Fontaine.

"Hey Sendene!! We are here to see Neuvillette and Furina!!" Paimon shouted out floating happily.

"Hello Traveller, Paimon. You see Neuvillette is currently away but you can make your way over to his office, he shouldn't mind." the Melusine said happily

"Thanks Sendene! See you!!" The Traveller and Paimon opened the doors to Neuvillette's office only to be met with an unfamiliar face.

You were sat down reading a book, with one leg crossed over the other deep in the book that you don't notice the two individuals walk in the room.

"Ummm...Hello there!! Whoever could you be?" your head shoots up to look at the Traveller and Paimon a look of suprise and happiness on your face at the same time.

"Ah! The infamous Traveller and Paimon!! Neuvi has said so much about you! It's so nice to finally meet you." you shoot up and hold the Traveller's hand, shortly moving to patting Paimon.

"You sure are energetic....but you never answered my question!" Paimon shouted putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh dear...that's my bad hehe...I am Y/N, its lovely to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too Y/N!! So what are you doing in Neuvillette's office? You must be awfully close to give him that nickname" Paimon asks as the Traveller looks a bit confused as to how you had gotten so close to Neuvillette and how they didn't know who you were.

"Well I am Neuvillette's-" just as you were about to explain your presence, Neuvillette and Furina walked through the office doors making you smile warmly.

"Neuvillette!! Furina!! You run up to them giggling.

Furina walked through first, making her the first victim to your hug.

"Ah! Y/N!! It's nice to see you too" Furina smiled softly as she hugged you back.

"She's close to Furina too?! Just who is she?!!!" Paimon shouted feeling in the dark as the Traveller already had their suspicions...

"Oh how did you not know? She is Neuvillette's..." Just as Furina wanted to reply to Paimon's exclamation you squealing turned all their head in your direction.

"Neuvi~ I missed you..."

"Hello, my dearest. I too missed you an immense amount." Neuvillette said warmly making Paimon and the Traveller shocked at the love in his eyes and Furina unfazed by it.

You went on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around Neuvillette's neck hugging him before placing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling away and handing him a cake box.

"I took a break from work to bring you a cake but now I'm gonna go...have a nice day at work and I'll see you at home!"

"I cannot wait to see you at home my dear, stay safe."

Neuvillette cups your face and places a kiss on both cheeks as you give him the cake, hug him tightly and pack your things.

"It was lovely to meet you guys!! Maybe we can meet up sometime!! See you Furina!!" you smile and wave to Paimon and The Traveller and Furina as they stare at you dumbfounded as you walk out the doors and Furina smiles and waves back.

"It is good to see you two, how have you been faring?" Neuvillette smiled turning to the Traveller and Paimon.

"UH...ERM....ARE WE GONNA IGNORE THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM??!! WHO IS Y/N TO YOU?!" Paimon screamed as Neuvillette held a neutral face.

"Oh Y/N is my wife. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to put her in danger."

"That makes so much sense...its quite cute actually!! I can't believe THE Chief Justice has a wife!! For how long?" Paimon seemed to be extremely amused as the Traveller sighed at how dense Paimon was.

"400 years"

"SAY WHAT??!?!?"

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

Wriothesley

"Erm...can you hear that Traveller?" Paimon sounded uneasy as the Traveller gave her a look of uncertainty at whatever was currently going on in the Duke of Meropide's office.

There was currently shouting going on that was so loud that a few people gather around his office to see if they could get anyone the drama. (that the only entertainment they get down there)

"WELL IF YOU DIDN'T PUT MY CAKE IN THE BIN THEN I WOULDN'T BE HERE TO BE HONEST, WRIOTHESLEY!!"

"UGH Y/N I TOLD YOU, I CAN GET YOU A BETTER ONE!! PLUS YOU ARE SO LOUD THAT I BET EVERYONE IS OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW!!"

"OH REALLY MR DUKE?? I LIKE THAT ONE CAUSE YOU MADE IT!"

"Y/N YOU AND I BOTH KNOW IT TASTED LIKE DIRT! AND STOP SHOUTING!!!"

Outside the office people were mumbling different things.

"Damn her sentence is gonna be for life if it wasn't before...."

"She's a soldier...."

Sigewinne showed up next to the Traveller and Paimon with an fed up look on her face.

"They are at it again...." She sighed and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Sigewinne!! Just what is going on in there?" Paimon asked as the Traveller flinched at another shout.

"You better go see for yourself..." Sigewinne pushed the Traveller and Paimon in the office and they climbed up the stairs to see a random woman and Wriothesley stop arguing to look at them.

Your demeanor changed completely as you turn your body to face them fully and smile.

"Oh hello! You must be the Traveller, and her cute little friend Paimon!" you smile softly as Paimon giggles and the Traveller greets you.

"Don't make Paimon blush!! However, the main issue is why you guys are shouting so much!!" Paimon places her hands on her hips like an angry mother.

Just as you started to calm you started getting heated.

"Traveller, I wouldn't usually be so desperate...but I could really use your help..."

"Hush it, Wrio." Paimon and the Traveller look at each other in shock.

Not only were you rude to THE Duke of Meropide but he also listened to you.

"Well, funny you guys asked....my HUSBAND here made me a lovely, beautiful delightful cake...last night which I enjoyed immensely!"

"Y/N-" Just as Wriothesley wanted to start you gave him a glare that shut him up.

"I REALLY enjoyed the cake, but my husband insisted it tasted like ass....so this morning after he had gone to work and I wanted to eat this cake I wake up to see it in the bin. So I am simply asking my husband to explain himself."

You fold your arms directing your attention back to Wriothesley.

"Wait....wait...wait...YOUR HUSBAND????!?!? WRIOTHESLEY THIS IS NEWS TO ME...." Paimon shouted as both the Traveller and Paimon both put their hands on their hips.

Wriothesley sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Guys....this is Y/N my wife of 3 years."

"Not for much longer is you keep this up."

"Y/N!! I'm sorry okay, I will make another one for you tonight." You immediately perked up and smiled warmly as you gave him a tight hug he returned, before you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"There we go, it wasnt hard was it! Anyway, I gotta go back to work...see you guys around and see you tonight, Wrio." you waved as you walked downstairs and left.

It was silent for a few minutes as the Paimon and the Traveller stared at Wriothesley in disbelief.

"I didn't want to tell you in these circumstances but-" Wriothesley started

"YOU BAKE??!!" The Traveller and Paimon spoke up in sync.

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

Alhaitham

It was a lovely day and The traveller and Paimon were walking through Port Ormos, just as a little relaxation walk.

"Hey Traveller, isn't that Alhaitham? Let's go say hi!" The Traveller nods and they both go and say hi to Alhaitham despite him talking to you.

You turn your head and notice the Traveller and Paimon approach your boyfriend so you tapped him while he was talking so he would turn around.

"Ah, Traveller and Paimon. How are you? What brings you here?" Alhaitham turns around as you shyly stand behind him hoping they don't notice you.

"We are great! Just came here for a walk. What about you."

"I am discussing things with my partner...." Alhaitham glanced back to you suggesting you make an appearance as you only cower behind him, gripping his arm tight.

"Uhhh....I'm assuming that's them behind you in the Akademiya uniform." Paimon says crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Alhaitham nods before turning around and grabbing your shoulders, steering you infront of him. "Introduce yourself Y/N..."

"H-Hi....I am Y/N...." you don't say much before wrapping your arms around Alhaitham tightly and shoving your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you smiling faintly (not going unnoticed by The Traveller)

"Sorry, she is usually really shy..." Alhaitham deadpanned.

"How on earth can she be your partner?" Paimon asked kind of shocked that he was tolerant enough to work together with you.

"She is actually a very valuable asset. I don't appreciate your language." Alhaitham said it neutrally despite the cold look in his eyes.

Before anyone can say anything tou mumbled out from Alhaitham's chest.

"I wanna go home...." you squeezed him tighter as he did the same.

"Well, we are going home now, she seems a bit overwhelmed so we will catch you another time." Alhaitham says moving away making Paimon and The Traveller feel a bit weirded out at how close they were for partners.

"Hey wait!! I'm sorry I said that....I didn't mean it...are you scared of us?" you looked away from Alhaitham's chest smiling slightly at them but not letting go.

"I'm scared cause you guys are so cool, Alhaitham told me all about you!" you spoke softly before turning away and earning a head pat from Alhaitham.

"Well done for speaking Y/N, dear." Alhaitham said as you looked up at him and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"EWWW! JUST WHAT TYPE OF PARTNERS ARE YOU?!?!" Paimon shouted as you and Alhaitham shared another small kiss before walking away.

"Romantic partners and work partners."

"WHATTTT!!"

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

a/n: I'm probs gonna do a pt. 2 just because j wanna write scara too and wanna make sure I haven't written too much...anyways I hope you enjoyed 💜✨️💜✨️💜

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