#i haven’t seen girl interrupted in so long

[nickfowlerrr]

right where i need you

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. established relationship. fluff. unprotected sex in the kitchen - sorry not sorry. and not much else, really! if i’m forgetting something pls lmk.

words: 2.3k

notes: i haven’t stopped thinking about him in that damn white tank since i first saw it and honestly i don’t know if i ever will. here’s just some random smut for you, inspired ofc by said white tank, please enjoy. thank you in advance for reading and as always - reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated! let me know what you think. 🩵

You can’t be held responsible for this.

It’s really not your fault.

He’s the one looking so…him.

It took one little look. And now here you are.

You’re not complaining! But when your phone starts ringing with texts in about fifteen minutes asking where you are and why you’re late, well… you can deal with that later.

You had padded down the hall, hair and makeup done and dress unzipped with your heels in your hand.

Did you really need his help to zip it up? No. But you can’t pass up the opportunity to feel his hands on you, even for a second.

He got home not too long ago so you know where you’ll find him, but he hasn’t come into the room to say hello, so you’re not exactly sure how you’ll find him.

You started considering skipping out on girls night the second you heard him come in without his usual greeting, and that is still definitely on the table. You haven’t been seeing him as often as either of you would like lately, and as much as you love your friends, you had brunch together last weekend, it’s not like it’s been ages… They wouldn’t be too upset, you’re sure.

You decided you’d make up your mind when you saw Bucky.

You find him exactly where you knew you would. He stands at the kitchen counter, his hair mussed, shirt discarded as he’s clad in his black pants and white under tank. He’s hunched over a bit and yet he still looks so big.

You smile wearily as you assess him from behind. He seems tense and tired and you can easily guess why. He’s been working nonstop for the past two weeks, you know he’s exhausted.

You walk closer to him and he turns to face you as you near his back.

He may be exhausted but damn he always manages to still look good. You’re almost envious of his natural allure.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets with a rumble as you reach out to touch him, your hand on his side as you step closer to him. His own find your waist as he pulls you in to hug you. “You look beautiful as ever,” he murmurs softly, holding you tighter than you’d expected.

“Hi, baby,” you ease back. It’s not a pet name you use often, but it slips so easily from your tongue as he holds you and you hug him back.

“Thought you woulda been gone already,” he says as you pull back from him, your eyes meeting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Not yet,” you say, “can you zip me?”

He smiles at you and you turn around, allowing him access to the zipper. He keeps a hand on your hip as he slowly works the zipper up the dress, taking his sweet time. Once he’s got it, he runs his big hand down your back and then settles it on your other hip, giving you a squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, turning to face him once more, “So,” you broach, “how was your day?”

“Ah, we don’t need to talk about that right now,” he tries to brush off.

“Bucky,” you start to admonish before he interrupts you.

“Have I seen this dress before?” He asks as his hands wander along the fabric, his eyes following your every curve.

You sigh, letting it go for now, “No, it’s new.”

“Looks good on you,” he compliments.

“Thank you,” you smile with a titter.

He blinks at you, his eyes swimming with something you aren’t sure you can name as his big hands find your bottom.

“I’ve missed you so much, you know that?”

You nod, softening as you step closer to him, “I’ve been missing you, too.”

He gives your ass as squeeze as you lean into him and you don’t even realize you’re doing it as you let your gaze wander down his sturdy chest to where his tank top is still tucked into his pants. He’s so built and so big, you’re damn near obsessed. And God, you really have been missing him.

His warmth, his touch, his everything.

You only realize you were biting your lip as his thumb comes up to pull it from your teeth. And you only realize your hand has been drifting down his thick, strong torso when you brush the top of his pants.

You meet his eye and you need no other warning of what’s about to come as you see the longing there.

His hand is holding your face as he licks his lips without thought. His eyes drift from yours to your lips and then all at once he’s on you.

His kiss is fervent and hot as he leads you. You let him turn you as you’re entirely enraptured in his kiss. You don’t recognize the counter at your backside as you kiss him back until he lifts you up without warning. His strength is always so impressive to you as you yip and reach to hold onto him despite the fact you’re already sitting safely by the time you do.

Your legs spread enough to welcome him as he stands between them, your dress already ridden up your thick thighs. His kisses are incessant as he holds you, his hands and lips both wandering what belongs to him.

Your hands are in his thick, dark hair as he attacks your neck and you can’t help the moan that slips past your lips. You can feel his smile against your skin as he hears it, like music to his ears.

You pull him closer with your leg around him as he pushes up the material of your dress until it’s around your waist. His hands move higher and once he finds the top of your dress, he pulls it down too, taking your strapless bra with it. He unhooks it easily and tosses it aside while avoiding unzipping the dress for you.

His mouth is on your full breasts the moment he exposes them; licking, nipping, sucking at your nipples while your back arches and you moan at the feeling.

“Buck,” you eke out your plea, tugging at him.

He doesn’t stop but his hands do move down to undo his pants. He pulls away after a second and pushes them down enough to free his stiff cock. He pulls you closer to him and then drags your silky panties down, tossing them with your bra before he situates himself back between your spread legs.

The feeling of his hand on your bare thigh is enough to set you on fire. He squeezes the ample softness there as he feels you, letting his hand slide up your leg to hold your hip.

You’re definitely gonna be late now, but it really isn’t your fault. They can’t blame you. And even if they could, you don’t think you’d really care.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel his cock head at your entrance.

“So wet,” he murmurs as he drags himself up and down your slit teasingly, earning a whimper from you. “I know, baby,” he chuckles, looking up to meet your puppy dog eyes, “I know. I’m gonna give it to ya, know exactly what you need, sweetheart,” he says, his words smooth as silk as he talks huskily.

He guides himself back to your slick entrance and right before he starts to push into you, he makes sure your eyes are on him, and of course they are.

You hold eye contact as he slowly moves into you, your lips parting on a gasp the deeper he goes. Your hands are messed in his hair again as your walls involuntarily squeeze his length inside of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You pull him closer, angling yourself to kiss him again as he slides the rest of the way into your tight pussy. He kisses you back just as fervently as before as he starts to pull out of you before thrusting right back in. His thick cock dragging perfectly along your tight walls as he fucks you. His hand tightens on your hip as you squeeze him again, his eyes squeezing shut as he moans in turn, but his pace never faltering.

You wrap your arms around his neck and press yourself to him as he holds your waist. His cock hitting deeper with his every thrust. You’re already on the brink of your orgasm as you bury your face in his neck, breathing him in as he fucks you in perfect time. His grunts and groans and moans fill your ears as your own spur him on.

“Missed you so fucking much,” he pants as he squeezes you again. You kiss his stubbled jaw, arching into him, “Missed you,” you mewl. You suddenly feel his thumb on your clit and you gasp out your moan.

“Bucky,” you cry, hands gripping his solid back.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he husks, “come on. Let go, baby. Come for me. Need to feel you come around my cock,” he grits, working your clit in tight circles as you clench around him, eyes squeezing shut and arms holding him ever tighter. “Need to feel you,” he begs a little quieter, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You can’t hold back any longer as his cock hits that special spot inside you once again while his thumb is ceaseless on your sensitive clit. Your face is in his neck as you quake against him, coming hard. Your body feels alight and electric, sparks of unadulterated pleasure shooting through you as you shudder and moan at the overwhelming feeling. Waves of ecstasy washing over you as you moan and whine in Bucky’s ear.

He doesn’t relent as he works you through your high and pushes himself closer to his own, praises for you and groans of his own pleasure sounding from him as he fucks you, making sure you feel every inch of him, his hands gripping your ass as he keeps you close.

Your walls pulsing around his length have him growling as he teeters on the edge of his orgasm, but it’s your soft moan in his ear as you hold onto him that really pushes him over the edge. You sound so pleased, so satisfied and debauched and it’s all because of him. It’s all for him.

You gasp as he comes inside you, curses of pleasure and your name on his tongue, his hot cum filling you up as he slows his thrusts. You feel his lips on your temple and then your cheek as he kisses you gently while he comes down. Your walls still squeezing him softly as you do the same until he finally pulls out of you, tucking himself away.

You hold his face in your hands, admiring him for a moment before you pull him closer for a kiss. He still stands between your legs as he lets you pull him further into you before you finally let him go.

“I’ve really missed you,” you murmur. “I know you’re off all next month, and we’ll be around each other, be able to make up for lost time,” you smirk coyly, “but,” you breathe, “still, I kinda just wanna stay here with you tonight.“

“Yeah?” he asks with a half smile, “what about girl’s night?”

“They’ll survive without me.”

“You really don’t have to cancel your plans for me, sweetheart,” he assures you, that look in his eye telling you more than his words. He doesn’t think you mean it, doesn’t want to seem like he wants you to stay just as badly as you want to… “I think I need some alone time, anyway,” he adds - now avoiding your eye as he speaks, and only fueling your previous suspicions as he fixes the top of your dress, taking a second before he wraps his arms around you. You let your own slide around his neck as he rests his head on your chest.

“I don’t think I believe you,” you reply easily with a kiss to his hair before you urge him back and get off the counter.

He watches you as you turn around, your back to him. “Unzip me?”

He does as you ask, after a few seconds.

You shimmy the dress off and don’t look back to him as you go for your phone set on the opposite counter. You shoot your friends a text letting them know not to expect you tonight as you feel Bucky at your back.

“You don’t have to stay for me,” he says again, even softer now.

You turn to face him, meeting his eye, “Tell me you want me to leave, and I will,” you say.

He bites his lip as he watches you intently, shaking his head a bit before he speaks, “I can’t.”

“Didn’t think so,” you smile triumphantly.

You take his hand in yours and pull him out of the kitchen, down the hall to your shared bedroom. He follows with no complaint.

“You shower, I’ll clean myself up a bit, then cuddles and talking, and then… round two?”

“And three,” he agrees, pulling your naked body against his still clothed one before he kisses you again. “And dinner somewhere in between.”

“Sounds good,” you smile against his lips. “The usual?”

He nods, “I’ll call it in when we get outta the shower.”

“We?” you quirk a brow, noticing the twinkle of mischief in his bright blue eyes just a moment too late.

You yelp as he picks you up effortlessly in his inhumanly strong arms, his mirthful chuckle sending butterflies alight in your belly as he smiles that charming smile at you.

“We,” he confirms, walking you both into the bathroom, with no complaint from you as you relax in his hold.

God, have you missed this.

[blkkizzat]

🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟷........... THE STRONGEST ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: its midday and your clingy-ass boyfriend—gojo satoru—should be hard at work right getting rid of these doppels not knocking at your door—gotta be a fake... right?! classifications: bimbo!reader (canonverse of otaku!gojo's bunny!reader), yandere-esque Gojo, nipple play, recorded sex, lots of sex toys, dirty talk, panty theft, extreme overstim + slight omorashi. incidents: 4.4k .......shout outs to @yung-notorious for beta-ing some of this!

*knock-knock-knock-knock-knock*

Rapid, insistent knocks interrupt your laughter as you chat with friends, carefully brushing a fresh coat of polish onto your toes. You weren’t expecting anyone, but the familiar, overly enthusiastic rhythm—knocking out the tune of Rick Astley’s "Never Gonna Give You Up"—leaves no doubt who it is.

Satoru.

You sigh.

Although you haven’t seen Gojo much lately and are usually happy to see him, his timing this time irritates you for a couple reasons—first, of course he’d interrupt right in the middle of your much-needed girl time! You were desperate to hang with your friends again, especially after being stuck in lockdown for the last 2 weeks.

There was some juicy tea getting spilled on the call too! 

More importantly, you weren't in a hurry to get up from the sofa—especially with your freshly painted white toes you’d propped up on the coffee table to dry. The last thing you wanted was to ruin them by getting dust on them while answering the door when Gojo wasn’t even supposed to be here right now.

“BBL, y’all.”

Reluctantly ending the call, you switched over to your Ring camera app. 

Sure enough, the security feed loads to reveal Gojo, grinning up at the camera with his glasses perched on the brim of his nose and a large pink shopping bag in hand.

Huh? There’s no way he’s off-work already! 

Taking note of the time it reads 1:30 p.m. confirming that Jujutsu society’s strongest sorcerer is skipping out on work, again—pshh typical. 

“C’mon babe, let me in!”

Urgh, what was he even doing here?! 

Shouldn’t he be the one leading the charge to kill all the doppelgängers? The faster he exorcized them, the sooner you’d finally be able to go outside again.

This doppelgänger outbreak felt like covid quarantine all over and it sucked! 

Satoru needed to get his ass back to work so you wouldn’t waste the best years of your life cooped up inside!

“Go away, doppelgänger!”

You use the intercom feature to speak to Gojo, still not budging from the sofa.

Gojo pouts.

“But it's me, baby! Open the door Bunny bae, please I missed you princess—it’s been too long!”

Satoru’s annoyingly pretty baby blues look even bigger as he pleads into the camera, his lip quivering, making you roll your eyes.

It’s barely been 48 hrs since you’ve last seen him and he still blows up your texts all day! 

But the world’s strongest sorcerer was also the world’s clingiest—so you suppose his doppelgänger would be too. Although, you were pretty sure this was the real deal, that still didn’t mean you wouldn’t give him shit for skipping out on work.

“Huh, that’s funny because there's no way you could be my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, the strongest—and the one who is supposed to be making sure I’m not stuck in the house for another 2 years. It’s been freaking 2 weeks already Toru, I’m going batshit in here!”

Pushing his glasses back in place Gojo hides his scoff, standing up straight. 

Shit.

He hopes you aren’t onto him. 

Sure, he could have contained this whole thing in a few days tops.

Despite the doppelgänger ability to mimic appearances and cursed energy patterns, Gojo’s Six Eyes could see right through it easily. His power allowed him to perceive the core of a soul with perfect clarity, instantly distinguishing the souls of a human and a curse.

But instead of resolving the problem quickly, Gojo made up all kinds of excuses to you (and especially to the higher-ups) about why it was taking longer than expected. 

The truth was, simple though—for once, just this once, he decided he had earned the right to be selfish.

Not having met you until after the covid quarantine, Gojo had never experienced that kind of isolation with you—and was immensely jealous that your last boyfriend had. Now that he had a taste of it, there was nothing he wanted more than to keep his lil bun-bun safely caged up, waiting for his return everyday (and he did try to make it back everyday).

Okay, so he is in fact being really selfish.

Luckily for everyone else though, most of these doppelgänger  curses are relatively harmless other than causing absolute chaos with their mere existence alone—unfortunately they could also be seen by people even lacking cursed energy.

Gojo took care of the stronger ones, the ones with more nefarious intentions, while letting the little ones continue to run loose—all so he could have you to himself. 

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo is intentionally sentencing you to what seems like a never ending cycle of boredom so that when he finally gets home you cling to him like a grain of sweet sticky rice. So eager for any external stimuli or interaction you’d be up for all manner of his perversions you’d normally shoot him down for.

That didn’t mean you weren’t still a brat though, making him work for it—something that Gojo also noted was his fault though for spoiling you rotten, not being able to deny you anything. So you pretend to be annoyed when he showed up, but Gojo knew the truth—those thick thighs of yours would soon have your slick running down. Your cute, slutty lil pussy dripping would start dripping the moment you’d hear his voice.

Yeah, yeah, he’d get rid of those things eventually—but Gojo was going to enjoy this quarantine with you for a bit longer. 

“Even the strongest need a break baby! I need my sweet lil’ energizer Bunny to recharge my batteries, eh?”

You crinkle up your nose seeing him wiggle his eyebrows on camera. 

He's such a dorky cornball.

“And this break…it’s approved by Yaga, hm?” Gojo whines at your questioning, not wanting you to deny him any longer nor throw technicalities in his face he didn’t wanna have to answer.

“Come on, Bunny! I even brought you real nice gifts to show you how much I missed you!”

The hot pink shopping bag sways in front of the camera, Gojo dangling it as if it were supposed to be a tempting treat. 

But he’d have to do better than some generic pink shopping bag to impress you!

You’ve gone back to your toenails, starting to apply the top coat while you let him squirm out there for a while longer. You knew he could break the barrier in the blink of an eye but you also knew that he was a big enough baby to want you to let him in on your own. 

Well tough luck brah.

“That sure doesn’t look like a Chanel shopping bag, Toru!”

“Um, that’s cause it’s not—Bunny you told me you don’t even like me picking you out clothes anymore!”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes—of course you said that as whenever Gojo picked something out for you, it ended up being the most scandalous or over-the-top piece in the store. How he would even managed that at a classy brand like Chanel, you had no idea. (Though, little do you know, in reality, he always acted they were ready-to-wear while they were custom-made—just for you.)

“I got us some toys, baby bun! Don’t you wanna play with me?”

You don’t need to ask him ‘what kind of toys’ from the goofy ass expression that is on his face. 

“That’s not making me want to let you in at all, Doru!”  

“Hah? Wha—Doru!?”

“Yeah, short for Dopple-Toru.”

You try to keep a straight face but can’t help giggling as you sneak a peek at your phone, still putting on as if you're completely ignoring him. His expression on the camera is priceless though and you wish you could snap a screenshot of his mouth wide open, glasses nearly sliding off, looking utterly incredulous.

“Hey! Come on, Bunny bae, that's not funny! I know you know it’s me—and I also know your pretty pussy misses me!” 

Oh knew, it was your perv ass boyfriend and yeah you did miss him—but you missed your freedom more! And for that reason you are gonna make him think twice before trying to skip out on work again. Not to mention, for having the nerve to show up once you finally found something interesting to stave away your boredom other than him!

“Hmm, I don’t know—prove it then, Doru…”

While Gojo loves goading you into playing games and usually lets you win them too, after nearly 48 ‘grueling hours’ away from you, all he wants now is to simply relax in your company. Ya know, nothing too crazy, just the typical cuddles with him calmly resting his face on your titties while his cock nestles deep up against your cervix—just something casual.

Gojo calling your bluff, ups the ante.

“Heh, kay…”

You’re actually not paying attention this time, admiring your work on your toes and contemplating on the color you should paint your fingernails as Gojo goes silent for a moment. 

Yet once you hear a loud zip, the rustling of fabric, and a belt clank to the ground your eyes practically bulge out of your head as you grab your phone, bringing it comically close to your face while blinking multiple times just to be sure. 

Satoru quite literally has dick and balls out, dangling in the breeze, in front of the entire goddamn neighborhood!

And despite your initial horror and best efforts to remain upset, you pause, your inner slut causing a slight brain malfunction—as even from the small ring camera you can see his deliciously thick cock bobbing fully erect while his mushroomy tip shamelessly drips viscous globs of pre onto your welcome mat.

Thankfully your short-circuiting of common sense only lasts a few seconds before it starts functioning again.

“TORU HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING SUGAR-FUELED MIND!? YOU KNOW THE HOA IS ONE MORE INCIDENT AWAY FROM KICKING ME OUT, RIGHT!?”

Sighing, you groan in dismay as you’ve been on thin ice with your HOA for a while now because of Gojo. 

Not only have you received the most noise complaints in the neighborhood by far, but he also made ‘alterations’ to your home by installing unsanctioned rows of cypress trees. Claiming it was a safety precaution to block the view inside your home from your ‘sketchy neighbors.’ He also ever so obnoxiously takes up 2 parking spots on the street so no one could even “park too close to scratch his Benz” and even sometimes double parked in front of your neighbors house when all the street parking was taken.

You would most definitely be kicked out if anyone in the neighborhood saw all of Gojo’s fairly large bits and pieces freely on display.

And yeah, Gojo did know that. 

He also knew if you got kicked out and had to move you’d have no excuse then not to move-in with him.

Where else would you be able to stay on such short notice? He soon turn that temporary situation into a more permanent one too.

Finally leaping to your feet, you practically trip over yourself—all thoughts of preserving your polish forgotten—as you sprint to the front door.

You can’t get there fast enough, yet as soon as you do, you don't hesitate to lower the barrier and fling the door open.

“Hey sweetn—”

Cutting him off, you grab Gojo by his collar and yank him inside before slamming the door shut behind you.

But you don’t get a chance to scold him. The moment you turn to face him, your lips suddenly meet his, and his large frame envelops yours into a warm embrace.

Your first instinct is to push him away, but even when meeting your furious eyes he just grins knowingly—twirling his pointer finger in the air above him. You frown, confused, until it hits you—Gojo has set up another barrier over your own.

No one could have seen him, but he’d let you believe that so you’d let him in faster.

Urgh, Toru is far too crafty for his own damned good.

It's your turn to pout now, having clearly lost this round badly. 

But Gojo doesn’t let the expression linger—his mouth is hot and hungry on yours again in an instant. Your soft lips are easily parted by his thumb as he slows to tease his way past your lips to glide his silken tongue into your mouth causing him to sigh—you taste sweeter than any candy to him.

The kiss soon turns more passionate as the strokes of his tongue flick longingly over yours, devouring you as he skillfully melts away your anger—in addition to all the bones in your legs. Reduced to a puddle of goo you completely forget you were just about to cuss him out as your legs now press together from the throbbing between your thighs. Your need becoming more agonizing as you grow dizzy from the lack of air.

When Gojo finally lets you breathe again, he chuckles at your dazed expression. Your lids are lowered and you press your body deeper into his own, clutching onto his collar as you nestle your face into his neck, savoring his scent washing over you. 

“So despite all that sass, I take it you actually missed me then?”

You nod eagerly against his skin, in spite of yourself. Even though he isn’t supposed to be here right now, you can’t hold back any longer how happy you are to see him.

“And my pretty Bunny girl is going to let me play with her now?—All of her?”

You gasp as Gojo does not wait for an answer before slipping a hand into your shorts. Hissing at your heat, Gojo swipes his thumb over the outer folds of your cunt and his fingers quickly are becoming soaked before they even got the chance to get up inside you.

Placing a chaste kiss on your temple Gojo's agile fingers had merely confirmed what he already knew: You’re utterly drenched—his needy, cute lil’ pussy was quite literally begging for him and who was he to deny her?

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

“F—Fuck! P-pussy too good. Keep the phone up though, nice and straight Bunny! T-That’s it, you’re the best! SHIIIIT— n’you got the cutest sluttiest lil cunny! C-Can you get a close up of how well my cock is digging out your pretty lil’ bunny hole?”

“Mmmgh!”

Gojo’s filthy words and his even filthier fat cock are bringing you closer to your ecstasy filled ruin as they push you past your limits, engorged veins scraping your walls with every thrust. You're covered in sweat and your entire body buzzes—quite literally as there are vibrating clamps suctioned onto each of your nipples. 

Mmmm, it all was driving you wild!

Not imagining yourself in this position when you woke up this morning at all.

Especially as initially, when Gojo said he bought toys, you thought he had meant fuzzy handcuffs, silken ropes or maybe even some more of that warm edible candle wax that tastes like strawberries—but all this!? 

You could barely see out of your bleary, tear-filled eyes completely caking your cheeks in streaks of your mascara that while supposedly waterproof, definitely is not Gojo Satoru proof. 

In addition to the mind-numbing bliss radiating off your swollen perky buds, your body was covered in some sort of edible oily slick. The warmth was initially similar to that of candle wax—yet morphed into anything but. This time the heat was coming from the flames your own body generated as the effects of the candied warming oil made every part of you saturated in the fluid buzz with need. 

Of course, after soaking your body with it down the tips of your toes and paying extra attention to your nipples, Gojo had been thoughtful enough to pour the most of the remaining bottle over your throbbing lil’ clit. 

Except now there isn’t just a shallow throb between your legs as the fiery sensation of every individual nerve in your cunt was cries out for him to ruin you harder. 

Your legs are wrapped around him impossibly tight as your heels dig into the small of his back and yet somehow, he still manages to snake a hand between your slippery bodies to pet his favorite girly spot on you—your clit. Toying with the swollen nub in a painfully slow manner compared to the intensified thrashing of his hips against your own. 

The motions only serve to push the heart-shaped platinum and pink sapphire adorned butt plug deeper into your ass with every loud vulgar smack of your wet bodies joining—the strange feeling of it jostling against the very walls his cock was drilling has you drooling as Gojo further tests the limits of passion he can push over.   

“C’mon Bunny, you're going to miss the best part, ya better capture it really well how much squirt I can pump out of this cute cunny—or we’ll simply just have to do another take. Not that I’d mind spending all day in your pussy…”

You're not in your right mind to scold him for trying to skip out on more work and you certainly don't have the full capacities to hold his phone up any better—what with your hands were tied together over your head to the bed. Gojo utilizing the fuzzy cuffs afterall.

You can’t even really see if you are getting the right angle as you desperately hold onto the device, keeping it straight and upright lest it slip and drop right on your head. 

“Always such a good girl for me huh, princess?”

Tuh—like he was giving you a choice!

You're unable to clap back though as your tongue, so lax from all the pleasure, sinks back to the roof of your mouth. The slobber gathered pools past your lips, over your chin, down your neck to your tits and Gojo is eager to slurp the train up your body and back to your lips, kissing you. 

It goes without saying, but Gojo in ‘director’ mode is absolutely diabolical. 

The reason being needs the perfect footage of him playing in your guts to make sure he had good enough material to fap to if you wanted him to spend more time away from you while he hunted down the doppel-curses.

“Be good for me a bit longer, ‘kay baby?”

Yet his gentle coos don’t match his demeanor. 

Glasses long discarded, Gojo’s own blue eyes looked crazed. He’s unconcerned with the sweat matting his hair to the sides of his face or the wave of slick your pussy splashes onto his taut abs. Abs are shuddering from just how tight of a hold your pussy has on him—working him overtime as his heavy pants soon twist into deranged lil whines.

“M-Me and my lil’ buddy missed our two girls so, so, s-sooo much—AH-HAH-F-FAHHHCK! G-Gotta show ya just how much!” 

Shamelessly, Gojo had dubbed his cock—his little buddy—the joke that would have emasculated some men but Gojo made it intentionally with the irony that he was anything but little.

“T-They were made for each other baby—lil’ buddy and the wet pretty girl between these thighs, yeah?”

The ham that he is, Gojo always sounds extra insane whenever a camera is recording, howling with amusement when he watches the playbacks. Yet in this very moment, he was as serious as a heart attack—and you definitely weren't laughing as your weeping pussy gets pounded into deeper into ecstasy filled oblivion. 

“Shhh—Stawwp, S’toruuuuu!”

Tsk, you still could form a coherent thought?  

That simply wouldn’t do for Gojo who is working so hard and bought all these new toys to see you come completely undone—and he needed you too soon as he wouldn’t last much longer in your squishy gooey core himself—not how your cunt was holding him in the wettest sluttiest lil hug. 

There's still one item left that he hadn't used yet though, that in trying to keep up his sleeve he'd nearly forgotten about entirely—his own brain quickly leaving itself on simmer by your greedy lil’ pussy sucking him in so sloppy.

Slightly changing your position for more leverage, he throws one of your legs on his shoulder slotting himself between your cushy thighs while he straddles the other leg. Fucking you sideways with increasing intensity from the bruising grip on your hips pulling your pelvis towards on him as he meets your thrusts smacking directly into your cervix.

“Heh, I know what will finish you off! Ya ready to cum baby? Squirt all on this dick you love so much, eh Bunny?—Yeah ya fuckin' will.”

When you don’t answer right away Gojo delivers a harsh slap directly on your clit, the moisture causing the increased sting to intensify sending your senses into a state of floating. Yet, bringing you back to reality, another harsh smack lands on your cunt and you jerk against your restraints, nearly dropping the phone on your face for real this time.

You don’t understand what he's saying to you but you not regardless, eyes rolling back into your head—every single pore on your skin submerged in pleasure. Completely unaware, you don’t hear the additional buzz of the final toy until you feel its silicone lips latching onto your clit while the rigid faux tongue juts back and forth across your bud.

Eyes practically leaving your skull for the second time today, everything flashes white, blinding you even with your eyes wide open. A scream so guttural it comes out silent, the ball of tension in you finally bursting as releases flushes through your entire body.

Cumming harder than you ever had before, you just let go completely, gushing around Gojo’s thick cock still pistoning in your now drenched pussy. The splash zone from your cunt is quite a bit more than usual as a giant warm wet spot begins to soil and expand underneath you both.

Ears ringing, Gojo sounds a million miles away as you hear him chattering on about something—the phone?

You wiggle your fingers, realizing you must have dropped it, but you’re still clueless about what has him so excited—until Gojo’s voice finally slices through your haze, yelling out in absolute wonderment—

“HOLY SHIT BABY, DID YOU JUST PISS ON ME??? MMM FUCK ME FOR REAL!?—SHIT! YOU WETTER THAN A WATER PARK BUNNY—SO FUCKIN NASTY! PLEASEEEEEE PLEASEEEE TELL ME YOU GOT THAT ON CAMERA!”

Suddenly, it dawned on you that when you had let go, you had quite literally let it all go. 

You could die—and if you could muster the strength to move you surely would have raced out to the backyard to quickly dig yourself a whole to do just that in. Yet that clearly would not an acceptable conclusion for your degenerate perv of a boyfriend who is acting like a sinner saved—praising pussy like a newly reborn evangelist baptized in the essence of your erotic filth. 

His elation is simple as he figures how much you really had to trust him to be able to let go and lose yourself to him to that extent—now he wants to lose himself to you as well.

Easily drowning all inside your sloshing pussy like he never swam—Gojo doesn't stop, your pissing only encourages him to fuck himself further into a pussy drunk state to rival your own cock-induced stupor.

Yet, somehow he still maintains enough control to effectively lavish praises for how naughty and shameless your lil pussy is. 

The frenzy drives him directly to his nut, eyes dilate further and slobber frothes past his lips while spearing his cock into you with renewed vigor. Whimpering and stuttering his words and hips alike.  Gojo presses your leg draped across him back against you to be sandwiched between the two of you as leans forward to further ravage your swollen kiss bitten lips again. 

Twisting you up like a pretzel and near the point of passing out from overstimulation you his insane joyous laughter sounds miles away as he topples over his peak pumping ropes of his vicious cum—that he’d been saving up for all you over the last two days—into your battered creamy core. 

Gojo’s thrusts begin to slow but he’s in your guts just as far pushing cockhead right against your cervix stealing your lips into another fiery kiss.

Once Gojo finally lets you breathe air again, you’re completely out of it, the dopey blushing smile on your face. The embarrassment from pissing all over him is completely forgotten as hearts all for him linger in your eyes.

Sex with Toru was never dull to say the very least.

“There you go, there’s my good girl, huh Bunny? Not bored anymore baby?”

Gojo smirks down at you knowingly while peppering your face with sweet loving kisses as you’re steadily drifting off, allowing every exhausted nerve to claim you.

It's still a good minute before Gojo slides out of you, seeinghis discarded phone next to you—it's still recording. A mischevous smile plays on his lips.

Wanting to capture the aftermath of his handiwork, Gojo sweeps the phone across your body, thumbing off moisture from your dewy soft skin soiled with warming oil and sweat. Making sure to linger longer on your lightly heaving chest and the sporadic quiver of your thighs.

Zooming in even closer, Gojo’s two long fingers to part your swollen lips open, admiring more of his work—his masterpiece that was the copious amounts of cum and piss dribbling out of your abused lil’ hole down to the crack of your ass. 

Now Gojo really has a dilemma—he wants to keep filming you as his cum, ever so slowly, trickles out of you. He thinks this scene would make the perfect time-lapse of the creamy sap seeping from your cunt like sugar maple. But he’s also fighting the urge to also suck all the creaminess out of you himself—the cum rimming around your puckered lower hole tempting him to Gojo start there and slurp and suck his way up your clit. 

Truly, he never gets enough of how his taste mingles with yours—and he’s quite curious to know how the additional waterworks will add to your delectable flavor. 

You were so fucking filthy and so willing to try new things all thanks to this doppel quarantine causing you to make this big a mess in the first place.

God he needed this.

More. 

He had to have more from you. 

Gojo couldn’t possibly bring this all to an end anytime soon.  Cooing against your inner thigh Gojo makes a promise to your cunt.

“Heh, don't worry pretty girl, I'ma give you six more months of quarantine at least! Can't wait to—” 

“—TORU, ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW!?!?”

Whoops.

Yeah he definitely thought you were already fast asleep—teehee.

......RESULT: PASSED 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍—𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚒𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

comment and reblog! next up toji, already finished posting—10/20

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[sansaorgana]

— STILL WATERS RUN DEEP

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — He's a psychotic killing machine and you're a shy and innocent lady. You have nothing in common except for the fact your bloodlines have been manipulated for centuries to create a match. And you seem to be destined to be together.

REQUEST — (1) // (2) // (3)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I don't write children!Readers unless it's for the retrospections and memories. That's why I combined all these requests into one fic. Some parts of the requests didn't make it but I felt like it was already getting long 🙈 I included the trope of Feyd and Reader being destined to be together – some sort of Soulmates AU, I guess? ✨

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, spiders, mentions of Baron Harkonnen abusing Feyd, SMUT, fingering, oral, hints of innocence kink, The Harpies being a bit non-consensual

WORD COUNT — 7,500

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL WATERS RUN DEEP

Giedi Prime was surely a scary and intimidating place for a twelve years old girl. The lack of colour and friendly faces made you shiver and anxiously cling to your father’s hand. You couldn’t understand why he had insisted on you accompanying him on this official state visit for the meeting with Baron Harkonnen. He would never want to take you with him to much more pleasant places. You were too young to understand the hidden agenda, the Bene Gesserit scheming – whose plans had been destroyed by Lady Jessica giving birth to a son instead of a daughter. They needed a new match for the young na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, The Baron’s nephew. After years of searching and studying many possibilities, they had decided to create a union between your House and The Harkonnens. Your father was more than happy – it was an honour to bond with such a powerful family. You were from one of the planets of a lesser importance. That was the reason for The Baron’s distrust towards the plan. He would rather see his nephew marrying a great lady, perhaps even an Imperial Princess.

While he talked to your father, you were left alone with no one but one guard in an empty room. You were sitting on a black couch and looking with awe at the portraits on the walls. All men looked the same on them – big, bald, hairless and scary. They fascinated you as much as they intimidated you.

After a while, the doors leading to the corridor opened and you startled at the sight of a boy more-less your age entering confidently with a contemptuous look upon his face. He looked like all The Harkonnens – sickly and scary. He was wearing clothes you had only seen on gladiators and warriors before but it looked disturbing on a body so skinny and small, even though he was tall for his age. There was a splash of blood upon his face and it made you gasp and take a step back. He smirked at you.

“So, that’s you? Disappointing,” he commented harshly as you swallowed thickly.

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” You looked nervously at the guard but he remained stoic.

“I’m Feyd,” he introduced himself. “My training has been interrupted and I’ve been told to meet you for whatever reason. Haven’t expected such a scared, little bunny,” he sneered and you spotted his teeth were black. They didn’t look rotten, though.

“What happened to your teeth?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“My Uncle made the medics paint them black to intimidate my enemies,” he answered, proudly.

“What kind of enemies might a twelve year old have?” You asked, surprised.

You had no enemies. Your life was of a typical spoiled young lady – full of mother’s kisses, father’s embraces, candies, ponies and maids braiding your hair in the evening while telling you tales of handsome and brave prince charmings. You couldn't imagine that it was different for other people.

“You’re stupid,” Feyd pointed out and you shut your mouth, feeling hurt at his words as tears pricked your eyes. He approached you and you took a step back, scared of him. “Don’t cry,” he tilted his head at the sight of your wet eyes. “Has no one ever told you that you were stupid?” Now it was his time to be surprised and you shook your head. “Do you want to see something?” He proposed as his eyes sparkled.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, genuinely.

“I will protect you,” he offered his pale hand and you looked at it with fear in your eyes.

“I am scared of you,” you raised your eyes to lay them on his face again while you explained.

“Good,” he nodded with a chuckle. “But I’d get in trouble if something happened to you. You are the daughter of my uncle’s guest. Come,” he encouraged.

Your status gave you courage as your curiosity only fueled your desire to actually follow him. Just like the portraits on these walls – he was as intimidating as fascinating to you. Perhaps because you had never before met such a boy.

You took his cold hand and a shiver went down your spine. For a short while, you thought you would faint as an odd feeling filled your small body. A familiar warmth that you only felt when you were back home, in your bed, feeling safe and sound with the nanny or your mother caressing your head to help you sleep. Like he was home. But he couldn’t be. You had never met him and he was scary. 

“Have you felt that, too?” You gasped.

“No,” Feyd lied. “Come,” he dragged you behind him and the guard opened the doors in front of you.

Feyd took you down the corridor and led you downstairs to some sort of dungeons beneath the fortress. You were starting to have a bad feeling about it but something deep inside you made you trust that odd boy. Without understanding it yet, you were starting to realise he was the one who had been meant for you from the day you were born. There was some connection between your bloodlines that was drawing you towards each other.

You found yourself in an old, dark and damp room. It smelt of something rotten and it was full of spiderwebs.

“What is this place? It’s disgusting,” you pointed out as you winced. Feyd let go of your hand and sneered at you.

“Life is unpleasant. The sooner you learn that, the better,” he pointed out and suddenly, he reached for a short knife by his waist you had not noticed before. You yelped at the sight, convinced he had only dragged you there to kill you.

“Don’t be silly, I won’t hurt you,” he rolled his eyes and you nodded, unsurely. “Do you want to see me kill something?” He smirked playfully at you.

It felt wrong and you felt the anxiety rising in your abdomen when you realised you’d get in trouble for that. On the other hand, you did want to see him kill something. It was curiosity mixed with excitement to witness something forbidden and something you had been sheltered from.

“Yes,” you nodded, eagerly. He was a little surprised at your reaction but he only smiled.

Feyd beckoned you over by waving his hand and you followed him, quietly. Then you gasped and covered your mouth as you gagged out of disgust at the sight of a big, fat spider in the corner of the room. It was huge – nearly as big as you were. But it was also fat and slow. The legs were long and thin, furry black sticks.

“I found it a few days ago,” Feyd told you as he looked at your disgusted face. “Gross, isn’t she?”

You nodded.

“She reminds me of my uncle,” Feyd explained with hatred in his voice. “Do you see those small spiders on the ground?” He asked and you looked down. It was full of smaller spiders but they were all laying there dead. “She feeds off of her own children.”

You took a step back, utterly disgusted and sick. Feyd snorted at you and turned his back on you to gut the big, black spider. You watched with terror how much satisfaction it was giving him. He struck the monstrosity so many times that you lost count. He kept striking when it was already laying there dead.

“That’s enough,” you whispered and Feyd froze before turning around to face you. There was pure murder in his eyes and when he walked towards you with a knife in his hand, you were sure he would kill you now, too.

You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes, expecting the worst. But when you felt his breath on your face, you heard him hiding the knife away.

“Stupid little bunny,” he told you and you opened your eyes, hesitantly. He was staring at you as if he was studying your face.

The door opened suddenly and a few guards entered, sighing out of relief. Your father was standing behind them, scared. Baron Harkonnen was there as well, floating ominously.

“There you are!” He raised his voice and you spotted that all Feyd’s confidence was gone in a second. The boy looked down and blushed. “I’ve told you to behave. Why are you scaring Lady (Y/N)?!”

You turned around to face The Baron, hiding his nephew’s from his sight with your small body.

“He did not scare me, my Lord,” you assured with a slight bow of your head. “I wanted Feyd-Rautha to show me around,” you lied to protect him.

You had a feeling his uncle would punish him and he looked like a man you would never want a punishment from.

“She’s naive,” your father tried to save the situation. “Curiosity killed the cat,” he reminded you and grabbed you by your wrist to pull you closer to him. “Forgive my daughter, my Lord Baron.”

“She is forgiven,” the big man smirked viciously before lying his eyes on his nephew. “The boy, however, is not.”

You wanted to protest but your father gave you a stern look and announced it was time for you to leave now. So, you obeyed and walked away, following the guard leading you out of the corridor. But you kept looking behind, trying to see Feyd-Rautha for the last time.

“Will I see him again?” You asked your father, looking up.

“Who?”

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” you explained and your father sighed as he looked down at you.

“You will in eight years,” he announced. “You will become his wife.”

Those eight years you had not wasted a day, practising for your new role every day. Learning all about The Harkonnens; their culture, their history, their customs and war strategies. You knew that their nobility would not give you an easy time for being a Lady of the lesser house. You wanted to prove your worth with knowledge.

Your wisdom was your only weapon because you lacked confidence nor experience in nearly anything. Sheltered your whole life, surrounded by books and teachers, you were shy and innocent. The spider incident on Giedi Prime still remained your only sin – that no one except your husband-to-be possessed the knowledge of.

You had not been in touch with him at all but the stories had reached you about his nature and his victories in the gladiator arena. You believed them all because your short encounter had been enough to give you an idea about what kind of man he would become. You had never protested whenever your marriage was mentioned but you felt anxious. You didn’t belong on Giedi Prime, you didn’t fit in the world of death and violence.

Tested by Gom Jabbar, you nearly failed the test. The scary Reverend Mother gave your mother a look of disapproval. On the very next day you were shipped to Giedi Prime for your wedding, though. You had survived the trial and only that mattered – the long-planned scheming couldn’t be sabotaged.

On the day of your arrival, you were led with your parents to a room you had remembered from your last visit. There was the same black couch and the same portraits on the wall – only now there was one more than before. The last one in line, of a young man with handsome facial features, signed with your betrothed’s name. You opened your mouth slightly as you kept staring at it. He was a young and handsome na-baron; a strong warrior surrounded by men and women who admired him. You could only imagine how inconvenient a marriage had to be for him. Especially to an uninteresting and unimportant woman like you.

The doors opened and you turned around to see him in real life as he entered the room in black gladiator gear. He looked better than in the portrait – raw and magnetic, dangerous. Your parents stiffened at the sight of him and they both bowed their heads.

“Lord Na-Baron,” your father greeted him. “We have delivered our daughter to you, according to the agreement,” he explained. “We have hoped to be greeted by your uncle The Baron.”

“He’s busy,” Feyd interrupted your father in a low and raspy voice that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes were only fixated on you – curious and mocking. You bowed down slightly as well, not wanting to disrespect him.

“Y-yes, of course, my Lord…” your father took a step back.

“You’re grown now,” Feyd-Rautha stood in front of you with a smirk and you took a deep, shaky breath in.

“So are you, my Lord Na-Baron,” you nodded.

“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Feyd turned around to give your father a contemptuous look. “A timid little bunny. But it’s no surprise since she’s been raised by a coward and bootlicker like you.”

“My daughter is of many qualities, my Lord, I can assure you…” your father panicked.

“A wife only needs one quality,” Feyd sneered at him as your blood ran cold at his words. “Show them to their rooms,” he told the guards and left the room.

“I can’t believe you’ve made deals with these people,” your mother snapped angrily at your father who was standing there with his head kept low, ashamed.

But it was not like he had any saying in this. It was the plan of the Bene Gesserit. You were nothing but pawns in it. You tried to remember that Feyd-Rautha was a pawn, too.

After the scary and bloody wedding party, you were taken to your husband’s bedroom where you were supposed to be prepared for the wedding night. However, it was not the maids waiting for you there. Three bald Harkonnen women were sitting on your husband’s bed and smirking at you, showing off their sharp teeth. They were dressed in black leather and clinging to each other as if they were one body instead of three.

“We will prepare her for the Master,” one of them told the servants who had taken you there. You looked at them with panic and they only looked back with guilt and compassion before walking out as quickly as possible, leaving you alone with the scary snake-like creatures.

They were circling around you, sniffing you and chuckling contemptuously. You didn’t understand anything but you tried to bravely keep still and endure. Then, one of them approached you and licked a fat stripe across your cheek. Your eyes widened in terror.

“Oh-so-innocent,” she commented. “Have you ever pleased a man?” She asked.

You were terrified and embarrassed, you didn’t know what to do.

“N-no, my Lady,” you stuttered and nodded your head, unsure how to address her.

They all found it amusing as they laughed.

“My Lady, she calls me. I might like this one,” the woman caressed your hair with some sort of perverted delicacy that made you feel even more scared. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands turned cold and sweaty. “I’m not a lady, na-baroness. I am your husband’s whore,” she informed you and you nodded again, hesitantly. “We are his favourite pets. You see… Our Master likes perversion,” her hands landed on your hips as she pulled you closer to her body. “We will teach you how to please him and how to take him.”

“He’s a lot to take,” another woman stood behind you and grabbed your breasts from behind.

“W-won’t he mind, my husband?” You swallowed thickly.

“Not at all,” the third one giggled. “He always shares his toys.”

“Not this one,” the doors opened as Feyd-Rautha entered the room. He glanced at the women angrily and they immediately let go of you and moved away. “She is not a toy, she is your na-baroness. What are you doing here?” He snapped. “Have I not forbidden you from entering this room from now on?”

“Oh, Master…” one of them approached him to put her arms around his neck but he pushed her away.

“Get out,” he hissed and they ran away.

When the doors closed behind them, Feyd looked at you and sighed before approaching you and caressing your cheek.

“You alright, wife?” He asked.

“Y-yes, thank you,” you nodded and flinched at the feeling of his cold fingers brushing your cheek. An odd and out-of-place warmth started to fill you like all those years ago. It made him startled, too, and eventually he took a step back.

“You must be exhausted,” he only said as he looked away, awkwardly. “We can perform our duties in the morning.”

“Th-thank you,” you nodded. “I’ll go take a shower now…”

Feyd pointed at the doors leading to the bathroom and that was all for that night. When you came back to his bedroom, he was already gone. You went to sleep without him, confused by his behaviour.

Baron Harkonnen watched carefully with his own eyes and through the eyes of his servants. He observed and he listened – nothing could ever escape him. But the new na-baroness was as easy to read as a book. When she joined him and Count Rabban by the breakfast table, she didn’t wince while sitting, which was an obvious sign she had not been claimed by Feyd the previous night. The Baron smirked when the new na-baroness began to eat the meal, keeping her timid gaze down, terrified of her surroundings.

If Feyd-Rautha refused to be her friend, The Baron would surely find her a purpose. She would be an easy tool to keep Feyd in place. A silent, obedient shadow following her husband everywhere. A perfect spy.

“Na-Baroness,” he addressed her and she flinched before looking up, scared. “I would like you to join the council after the meal. Your husband rarely takes part in them since he is too busy training but now you are an extension of him,” The Baron forced a smile and she nodded. “I’ve been told by your father you are well-trained in Harkonnen history and customs.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” she bowed her head.

“I know that Feyd-Rautha is not an easy man to be around,” The Baron continued as Rabban raised his head, curious about his uncle’s scheming plan. “He’s been like this ever since he was a child. I’ve been trying to temper him.”

“I remember,” the young woman whispered.

“You can tell me about anything that is worrying you,” The Baron assured her and she smiled genuinely. “Has he hurt you?” He squinted his eyes, knowing the answer already but wanting to test her honesty.

“No, my Lord. Feyd-Rautha did not spend the night with me at all,” she answered and he nodded as Rabban sneered.

“You have to forgive him, my Lady. He prefers other… forms of entertainment,” The Baron explained softly.

“I believe I have met them, my Baron,” the woman looked down.

“Most likely, yes. They don’t like to share him,” The Baron chuckled.

“But the heir…”

“Do not worry about the heir. You are both still young, you have time. There is no need to hurry anything. Take your time to adjust on Giedi Prime first,” The Baron tried to calm her down and she looked up with so much gratitude in her eyes that he was sure he had succeeded. She was his agent now.

To your own surprise, you found new friends in your husband’s family – his uncle and brother – but not him. Feyd-Rautha was mostly avoiding you and a few attempts to claim you were ending in a fiasco. You couldn’t understand why he would pull away suddenly and leave you without a word or fail to get hard enough no matter how long his touch lingered upon your body. It made you feel as if you were lacking, because you knew for sure he had no problems of this sort with his concubines. They often bragged to you about it. They had offered to help you to excite him and you nearly agreed to that but Feyd hated to see you around them. He snapped whenever he caught you talking to them or them approaching you.

He hated to see you around his uncle and brother, too. He had been warning you about them but it felt cruel to do so. Did he want you to not have any companionship at all? To be sad and lonely and miserable all your days?

You weren’t appreciated in marriage but you were appreciated as a part of this family – representing the na-baronship during the council meetings with your decisions and advice. The Baron seemed to be pleased with you and Count Rabban had stopped to make fun of you over time. Still waters run deep, The Baron would often say about you as your cheeks heated up and eyes sparkled. Perhaps all the years of studying the customs and tradition of this House would not be useful in your marriage but they seemed to be useful when it came to your political presence.

It still bothered you that Feyd-Rautha was acting so weirdly towards you. You remembered the boy he had been eight years earlier. You had never feared this union because you had been sure there was some sort of bond now between you two, some sort of connection. Perhaps you had been wrong.

It was right after one of Feyd’s failed attempts to claim you, when he left you half-naked in bed with tears pricking your eyes. He walked away and most likely went to his concubines as you fixed yourself and left the room, too, not wanting to remain in the chambers filled with the smell of embarrassment and humiliation anymore. You nearly crashed with your brother-in-law walking down the corridor.

“My Lady,” Rabban nodded at you. “Is everything alright?”

“Y-yes,” you answered, trying not to show your nervousness. There was no need for him to know the details about the problems your marriage was facing.

“I was just looking for you,” he confessed and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Tomorrow, my uncle wants me to lead the council meeting only for the most important members of the court. It’s about a matter of a very high importance and it’s confidential,” he whispered. “I hoped you would join me. Without my uncle there, I will be the only one representing our family.”

“But tomorrow Feyd has his fight. I am expected to be in the stands,” you looked up at him.

“Uncle will be there. You are more needed here, (Y/N),” Rabban tried to convince you. You could see his hands were a little shaky – he was stressed about the responsibility placed upon his shoulders by his uncle. “It’s not like Feyd will even notice your absence,” he added.

You bit on your lower lip. He was right.

“Alright, I’ll join you in the council,” you nodded your head. “Our state affairs are much more important than some fixed gladiator fight anyway.”

The servants’ slim fingers were applying the black paint upon Feyd-Rautha’s body as he observed his three harpies from the corner of his eye. They were giggling between each other and some of the words reached his sensitive ears.

“...naive…”

“Silly little thing.”

“...taste her heart…”

“What are you talking about, pets?” Feyd turned around to face them as he asked and they went silent.

“Nothing important, Master,” the bravest of them all answered eventually.

“I have a feeling you’re whispering about my wife,” Feyd pointed out.

“As I said, nothing important,” she chuckled and the rest giggled. Feyd squinted his eyes and approached them with a clenched jaw and an angry expression on his face. When he grabbed her by the chin, they stopped laughing.

“You are forbidden to even think of her,” he hissed out. “You’re not worthy of that.”

“M-Master…” She trembled as she pleaded for his softness. Her companions hid behind her and observed him carefully. “She doesn’t even know how to please you, Master.”

Feyd’s hand dropped down and the squeeze tightened around the woman’s neck. He watched her struggle to catch a breath for some time as he observed with a smirk. Eventually, he let go of her.

“My wife belongs to a different realm than you,” he stated. “She is not to be discussed, looked at, thought of… Am I understood?”

“Y-yes, Master,” they all nodded, obediently.

“Good,” he smiled and went back to the servant girls.

“You might be interested in the gossip, though, na-baron,” one of the concubines whispered. “We are your eyes and ears…”

Feyd pretended not to be intrigued although he was. He didn’t react, hoping she would say more. And so she did.

“Your uncle keeps the young na-baroness close. The rumour has it he wants to make her one of his agents. And she is slowly taking your place during the councils. Count Rabban is his Plan B if you fail. Then she will be given to him.”

“I’m sure Rabban won’t have a problem with fucking her,” the bravest concubine added as if his punishment had not worked at all. Because it didn’t. She loved his punishments. “Her innocence will only make him more eager. He will tear her apart.”

“Shut up!” Feyd growled, making the servant girls take a few steps back as he turned around to face the girl with a big mouth. “Let me remind you that I don’t need your tongue to fuck you,” he sneered. “Your sisters are better at using their tongues than you anyway.”

The woman looked down and he was informed that he was about to enter the arena in five minutes so he went back to putting the gear on, furiously clutching to his blades. He was grateful to his concubine for fueling his anger so much – he wanted to make good use of it in the arena.

But when he approached the tower with his uncle’s balcony to bow down, he spotted that his wife was not there. Suddenly, the fight made no sense to him at all. What was the point of putting on a show, what was the point of killing with grace when she could not watch?

He had been waiting eight years for her to come back. The timid little bunny girl that made him feel so warm inside. That made him feel like home. Nothing had ever made him feel this way. They were destined for each other. Now, when she was by his side, he had no idea what to do. He had been training his body for years to impress her and be able to protect her but nothing was working out the way he had planned. She was slipping away.

She was slipping away because of his uncle’s scheming and because Feyd-Rautha himself had no idea how to approach a creature so pure and innocent as this woman. If anything in this world was still able to save his rotten soul, it was her. But maybe he had been naive to think so. He was beyond saving.

He didn’t give the audience a show on that day. The fights were quick and swift. No playing with his victims, no tormenting. Just a kill after kill to finish it as fast as possible. And no bowing down at the end. He just walked out of the arena, still clutching his fists on the blood-dripping blades. He walked past the guards and servants, not wanting to change or bathe – he wanted one thing only. To find his wife.

The sounds of the cheering audience were becoming more and more quiet. They waited for him to walk back and bow down, raising his knife in the sign of victory. He had no plans in doing so. He would not kneel in front of his uncle. Not when his wife was not beside him, because it was her he had been kneeling for. Not Baron Harkonnen.

The council was over now but you stayed inside the conference room with Count Rabban to discuss what had been decided and what to tell his uncle. You were staring at the maps of Arrakis and wondering whether the Emperor’s assurances of help were trustworthy.

“What I’m saying is… If he is so willing to get rid of The Atreides just because he considers them to be dangerous… He might do the same to us one day. We are a real danger to him way more than any Atreides is,” you pointed out.

“Especially now when we have knowledge that can turn other leaders against him and…” Rabban’s words were interrupted by the heavy black doors opening rapidly. You flinched and instinctively hid behind your brother-in-law’s broad shoulders.

It was Feyd-Rautha himself walking inside with an angry look on his face. Wearing his gladiator gear stained with fresh blood and still wielding two bloody swords. He looked ferocious as his cold eyes searched for you. When he spotted you behind his brother, his jaw clenched and so did his fists on the handles of the blades.

“What is going on here?” He barked as you and Rabban looked at each other, questioningly.

“Husband,” you tried to be brave as you took a step ahead to approach him very carefully. “I see you’re finished now. I assume you’ve won.”

“(Y/N), wait,” Rabban grabbed your sleeve to keep you in place. He didn’t want you near Feyd in such a state. But Feyd didn’t like his brother’s gesture.

“Let her go, brother,” he snapped. “She is my wife and she will approach me if she wishes. I would never lay my hand on her,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

You felt Rabban’s fingers letting go of the fabric of your dress and you walked up to Feyd. Something inside you was telling you that he needed you at that moment. Perhaps that was the intuition of a wife.

“Oh, we all know that you don’t lay your hand on her at all, brother,” Rabban snorted at him.

You watched in terror how your husband’s face became even more angry than before. He yelled and attacked his brother with all the burning wrath he had before been trying to stop from outbursting with.

“No! Stop! Please,” you pleaded as they fought and struggled one against another. Rabban took out his own blade now, too, and they ended up wrestling on the floor like two children. “That is enough, please!” You cried out.

Your tears brought attention to only one of them – your husband. He was distracted by them and ended up with his brother’s blade pointed at his face. You froze and Rabban laughed with contempt.

“Such a great warrior you are, my brother. Trained day and night for years, got your little arena shows… And now you got distracted by a woman,” he pointed out.

“That woman is my wife,” Feyd drawled.

You looked around in panic but the guards stood there petrified. They were afraid to attack any of the brothers. Usually shy and timid, you felt an odd outburst of courage as you took a blade from the guard standing nearby. He did not protest but only watched in terror as you approached the brothers and pointed the blade at Count Rabban himself.

“Don’t be stupid,” he laughed at you.

“Let my husband go,” your voice shivered but you managed to stand your ground.

“Or what?” Rabban sneered. “We both know you won’t strike me.”

In that very moment Feyd kicked him and got out of the direction of his brother’s blade. He ended up on top with his own knife pointed at Rabban. A smirk on his face revealed that he had never been defeated even for a second, he was only toying with his brother… and with you, too.

“She might not but I will,” Feyd hissed at his brother. “My marriage is none of your business, brother. And you stay away from my wife.”

“I am only representing you during the councils,” you tried to explain and Feyd looked up at you with his brow furrowed. “Your uncle told me I should because you rarely take place in them.”

“He’s scheming, can’t you see? Trying to turn us against each other. Thought you were smarter than this,” his anger was directed at you now.

He let go of Rabban and stood up to walk out of the room. You swallowed thickly and lowered your blade, scared of your brother-in-law’s reaction now when you were left alone with him after threatening him.

“Why did you take his side?” He only asked as you gave the blade back to the guard. “He doesn’t treat you any good. He never will.”

“He is my husband,” you explained quietly, avoiding his curious gaze.

“By name only. Your marriage is not even consummated.”

“Feyd was right,” you looked up. “Our marriage is none of your business, brother,” you emphasised who he was to you now before walking out to follow Feyd. It was easy because he left a trail of sand and blood from the arena behind him.

He went to your chambers so you took a deep breath in and pushed the doors open to face him in all his wrath and anger. He was struggling to get out of his gear with shaky hands as he shot you a furious glance over his shoulder.

“Should I call for the servants?” You asked.

“No,” he snapped and you sighed before approaching him and helping him yourself. At first he tried to shake you off but you were stubborn so he gave up and allowed your gentle fingertips to work on the pieces of clothing. “How do you even know how to do that?” He asked. “Did Rabban show you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, dear husband. I’ve read dozens of books about The Harkonnen art of warfare. I know your gears by heart. And Rabban is no gladiator,” you explained.

“Dozens of books about the art of warfare and The Harkonnens and yet it slipped your mind what masters of manipulation we can be?” Feyd barked at you and you chuckled. He didn’t find it amusing as he looked you up and down with contempt so you leaned in and placed a kiss upon his soft lips while your hands cupped his face. He was visibly taken aback by that, he didn’t even close his eyes for the kiss and he continued to observe you as if you would attack him any second.

“I have studied everything like a good pupil I was,” you whispered after breaking the kiss. Your hands kept caressing his cheeks in a soothing manner. “And now I’m one of The Baron’s closest people. I’m your inside man, Feyd-Rautha,” you smiled gently and his eyes sparkled at the realisation.

“But… why?” He only asked, confused.

“What do you mean why?” You bit on your lower lip.

“I’ve been treating you… coldly,” he admitted.

“Well, that is another matter. But that is between you and me. The marriage is between a husband and a wife. Not between them and his uncle or brother,” you explained. “I still remember that big fat spider. I’ve known ever since I was twelve years old that the thing you crave the most is to gut your uncle like you did to that monstrosity in the dungeons. And as your wife… I will do everything I can to help you,” you assured him.

But Feyd was not convinced. He pushed you away although he did it way gentler than you’d expect. He walked away from you as he stepped out of the pile of clothes by his feet. He was wearing nothing but underwear now and you watched how his muscular body glistened with sweat after the fight. 

“You can be a double agent, wife. I don’t trust you,” he confessed.

“You have no reasons to,” you nodded. “Except for the fact we have fate and destiny bonding us. Am I the only one feeling this when we touch?” Your voice lowered as uncertainty began to grow inside of you. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you were the only one feeling that warmth indeed.

“No,” Feyd admitted, nearly inaudibly. “Why do you think I can’t fuck you?” He approached you again and you gasped at how close he chose to stand.

“Because you find me unattractive? Or boring perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “I don’t care about that. Our bond is stronger than physical attraction.”

“I can’t fuck you because that feeling is overwhelming me and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like that. You’re too pure for me,” he confessed, visibly uncomfortable with his own words as he looked away.

You were stunned for a moment.

“You’re an idiot, Feyd-Rautha,” you laughed eventually and he blushed. “I am not pure. I am flesh and blood just like you,” you told him. “For example now… When you’re standing in front of me… like this,” you allowed your hand to wander all over his hard muscles. “You’re starting a fire that will be difficult to put out later,” you looked up to meet his gaze. “Every time you start and don’t finish, you leave me in torment,” you confessed. “And nothing helps,” you pouted. “I writhe and I roll around and grow more and more bitter knowing that you’re giving your whores what you’re supposed to give me.”

He was nearly paralyzed in a way he was staring at you. You grabbed his hand and pulled your dress up to press his hand to your womanhood. You were soaking through your underwear now and he blinked a few times as his gaze intensified.

“I will never forgive myself if I break you,” Feyd took his hand away despite your protests.

“You’re breaking me by refusing to touch me,” you whined.

“Touch yourself,” he said suddenly as his eyes sparkled and you were left speechless. “Touch yourself for me. I will help you. I’ll make it feel good,” he proposed.

Out of desperation, you decided this was better than nothing – at least for now – so you agreed. As fast as possible, you got rid of your dress and remained in nothing but your sheer underdress. You laid on the bed and watched him approach you. Feyd laid next to you, observing you carefully. His eyes were admiring every curve of your body and every inch of your skin. Without waiting for his command, you pulled the underdress up and took off your underwear to toss the panties aside and start playing with your wet folds. It was embarrassing to see him watch but it also excited you in some twisted way. You toyed with your clit, moaning softly, showing him what kind of pleasure you could bring to yourself – what kind of pleasure you had to bring to yourself since he refused to do so.

“Easy, slow down,” Feyd breathed out and placed his rough hand on your waist. He was caressing you and joined your lips together in a sloppy kiss. His free hand undid the ribbon on the top of your underdress to free your breasts. They shivered under the touch of his big hand as he played with your nipples and buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.

You shut your eyes close, trying to focus on the pleasure as your fingers rubbed on your sensitive swollen clit but it was not enough. It never was.

“I can’t…” You admitted your defeat as you tried to catch a breath.

“Yes, you can,” Feyd whispered into your ear in that low, raspy voice of his that sent shivers down your body and straight to your core. “What’s stopping you?”

“It’s just… I don’t know…” You didn’t know how to find the right words. “It’s not enough,” you admitted. “It’s not you.”

“Let me, then,” he raised himself to look into your eyes as his hand moved your hand away and his fingers replaced yours on your exposed clit. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips drawing circles and teasing your entrance. 

You pressed your hands to his chest and then you moved them lower to explore the hard muscles of his abs. To feel them underneath your fingers was enough to make your back arch needily, exposing even more of your hungry pussy. Feyd smirked at that and buried his fingers deep inside as you gasped out of pain but it was quickly replaced with pleasure.

His free hand grabbed your chin gently and when you looked up, batting your eyelashes and opening your lips slightly, he put his fingers inside of your mouth and you grabbed his wrist to hold on to it as you sucked and moaned. His other hand was bringing you close to your release as his movements were fast and rough and his thumb circled your clit.

You cried out but his fingers muffled it so you ended up choking on the sound escaping your lips as you came writhing under him with sweaty forehead and single hair strands sticking to your face, your whole body set on fire, trying to catch a breath. Feyd swallowed thickly as his eyes sparkled.

You yelped as he smacked your sensitive pussy right after pulling his fingers out of it and licking them clean, looking deep into your eyes. You were speechless as your mind was left thoughtless.

You could only watch him lower himself and open your thighs even further with his strong arms as he buried his face between your legs to lap on your juices. You were sensitive so it burned in the beginning but the uncomfortable feeling submerged into pleasure once again. Feyd’s tongue was cleaning your folds thoroughly and penetrating you while you threw your head back as you laid your hands on the back of his neck, keeping him close. But this time he didn’t let you cum so easily.

When you were about to reach the peak again, he moved his head away and the next thing you saw was his face right in front of yours, his chin dripping with your wetness and his cold eyes filled with so much fire that you felt like a prey trapped by a big predator.

But you loved that feeling. You loved to feel small and tiny under him, trapped, vulnerable. You dug your nails into his biceps and looked down. He had already tossed his underwear aside and his cock was hard now, swollen and aching for you, you could see it twitching and leaking black precum. He looked heavy and big and you wanted him badly to claim you and violate you to the point no other man would ever even think of touching you after him.

You had never made him that hard. You had never gone so far before. You were sure you’d succeed now.

“Take me, claim me, make me yours,” you pleaded. “Please, I want more of you.”

Feyd shut you up with a kiss and a strong, stinging pain of his hard cock finally penetrating you. Your eyes widened as you whined. He intertwined your fingers together and held you through the process of adjustment to his size. You were the first one to impatiently rock your hips to show him you wanted him to move. So he did, slowly and carefully. He winced from his attempts to keep himself in control and you let go of his hands to pull him closer by his shoulders and deepen the kiss.

You moaned softly and helped him to fuck you by you rocking your hips against him as your legs wrapped around his waist. You both had been waiting so long for this moment of unity that it didn’t take long for you two to reach your highs and the familiar feeling of warmth filled you whole. You didn’t remember your own name, the only thing you knew was that you were home and the man above you was destined for you; you were born to be his wife and he was born to be your husband. The thousands of years of manipulation of the bloodlines had led you to this moment and nothing could tear you apart now. No amount of rumours, scheming or the disability to show emotions.

You were catching your breath as Feyd was slowly coming back from his high above you, panting heavily and looking at your face with hazy eyes.

“You belong to me,” he leaned in to kiss your lips again. “You always have.”

“No matter what happens, we are one,” you agreed with a nod and intertwined your fingers with him as you held his hand. “Now, when that is settled, we shall focus on our most important task.”

“And that is?”

“Killing the fat spider in his nest,” you answered.

“Thankfully, we have experience,” Feyd teased before placing yet another soft kiss upon your parted lips.

MASTERLIST

[clemswinecorner]

Getting caught 4+1 - Arthur Frederick (TV)

Summary: Getting caught 4 + 1 (or, 4 times Arthur an Y/N almost accidentally revealed their relationship, and the one time they did)

Wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings: sexual innuendos and alcohol, other than that it's fine

Not based on but the first part was inspired by this arthur fic! As well as prompts from the amazing @creativepromptsforwritinghttps that I always love <33 It's a bit of a longer one so sit down and enjoy, I hope you guys like this!

Main Masterlist

It was at their friends' house-warming, Chris’ initiative, when they had their first scare of getting caught.

Arthur and Y/N had been mingling around for a bit before making their relationship official a little over a month before, just days before Y/N left for a few weeks in Italy. Y/N was standing in front of their friends' house with a bottle of gin and a small plant as Chris opened the door with a smile. “Hey! How’s it going?” He asks as he hugs the twenty-four-year-old. “Good, good. Congrats on the new place, by the way, have you and the boys been settling in alright?” She asks as she makes her way inside. “Yeah, it’s different from before, but I’m getting used to it,” he admits as she hands him the gifts. “Oh, I got you some decoration, and something nice for tonight or whenever,” she explains, and he thankfully smiles. “Ah, thank you so much, that’s lovely! You can put your jacket in the closet right there.” He motions to a closet door as she takes off her jacket, which she hangs up. “I’m glad you could make it tonight, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever! We need to plan a proper catch-up soon,” she chuckles as they make their way to the living room. “That’s what you get when you decide to be busy right when I come back from four weeks in Italy, mate. But yes, we need to arrange something. Oh, I love the posters, by the way!” 

Chris doesn’t realise why the jumper she’s wearing looks familiar until Arthur walks into the living room. “Wait, doesn’t Arthur have a hoodie just like this?” He asks, interrupting their chat about beers. Her eyes grow a little wide as she looks down at the hoodie she’s wearing, that is clearly Arthur’s. She was in a rush before leaving, as usual, and pulled on the first hoodie she saw, thinking she wouldn’t need it indoors anyway, not considering it wouldn’t be as crowded when she arrived. “Oh, really? I just got this the other day, I had no clue! That's so funny,” she says, half a beat too late, which was just long enough for Chris not to notice. “Yeah, I mean, I guess it makes sense for you to have the same style a bit since you’re a bit alike, although your clothing isn’t that similar,” she simply shrugs, as she glances at Arthur. He was wearing a Fellas hoodie — the one she desperately took off him less than 24 hours ago. He looks her way as he’s making his way around greeting people, arriving at the couch soon enough. Chris stands up and greets him as they have a quick conversation as she stands up and straightens her skirt. “Hi, nice to see you again. How was Italy?” He asks, and she giggles as they hug. “Like you don’t know,” she whispers, making him chuckle, before she answers. Chris softly touches her shoulder, “I’m gonna go and socialise a bit, we’ll plan something proper, yeah?” She nods, “Yeah, yeah, go ahead, they’re your guests!” She exclaims. “Don’t hide and play chess, have some fun, yeah?” He pats Arthur’s back with a chuckle before moving over, making his old friend roll his eyes before turning back to his girlfriend. “We almost got caught, he rec-,” the girl stops her sentence as she notices George Clarke making his way to the pair. “Yeah, I’ll send you the name for when you go to Rome,” she mentions, as George joins them. “Hello friends! Y/N, it’s been forever, how are you doing!” She smiles as she embraces her friend, “It has been! Good, good, good, lovely place you have! How’s everything going?”

As they make conversation and drink, Arthur and Y/N keep locking eyes. She smiles shyly when he nonchalantly bites his lips, and leans against the back couch. God, that’s fucking hot. George leaves to get more drinks, as they were all about half a drink away from being tipsy, and she immediately scoots closer to her boyfriend. “We almost got caught. Chris noticed the jumper,” she quietly says, as he puts his arm on the back of the couch besides her, looking at her intensely. “Hmm, did he,” he says absent-mindedly. She glances around and stands up, her hand softly grazing his leg. “If George asks, I’m going to the bathroom. You can find me on Chris’ balcony,” she says, low enough for no-one to hear. His eyes follow her as she walks away, and he takes the last sip of his drink as she makes her way around the corner to go up the stairs. “Where’d she go?” George asks, interrupting his, admittedly not very faithful, thoughts. He coughs, “Bathroom. Thanks,” He says, accepting the drink George made him. “Ah. They’re playing Beer Pong in the kitchen, d’you wanna join?” He asks, and Arthur shakes his head. “Not today, but you can go. I’ll let Y/N know when she gets back,” he simply says, and George nods. “Alright, alright,” he simply says before leaving the twenty-eight-year-old to sit by himself. 

“Well, hello,” She turns around at Arthur’s soft voice with a smile as he closes the door to the balcony. “Hey baby. How was the meeting?” She asks, and he shrugs. “It was alright. Would’ve rather stayed in bed with you this morning, though,” his comment makes her cheeks flush red. How this man still had her feeling like a girl with a school crush was incredible, but she loved it. “You have me now,” she says, Arthur putting one hand on her wrist, the other around her waist pulling her closer. “Wish I didn’t have to share you, though,” he says when their faces are mere inches apart, pressing his lips to hers. Despite having seen each other every day since, they craved each other as much as they did when he picked her up at the airport after four weeks of not seeing each other. “Do we go back inside before us being gone becomes suspicious, or…” Arthur shakes his head, “no, I’m keeping you to myself for a little longer.”

The second time they almost get caught they were in a similar setting, though this time the party was George’s. 

It was their six months anniversary, and although they didn’t necessarily want to celebrate every single anniversary, they did tend to spend every 10th of the month together. They’d much rather be cuddled up with some comfort food with a movie on the background, simply enjoying each other’s company and chats — instead, they found themselves chatting to friends as they’re waiting to go home tipsy. She’d asked before they left, getting ready at Arthur’s flat after ordering in. “Are you actively drinking tonight?” She turns away from the mirror doing her makeup for a second to look at Arthur rummaging through his closet. “I mean, I don’t think I want to get too drunk. Maybe if we don’t make it too late we can come back here, maybe have a drink by ourselves to celebrate half a year?” You nod, “Yeah, sounds perfect. Just a few drinks, I would like to get to enjoy you tonight,” she smirks, and he sends her a smile through the mirror. “Oh! Before you get dressed, I got you something,” he realises, quickly getting out of his room. He returns with a pink and white striped bag, “just something small,” he says, a bit flushed. She looks up at him before she takes out the wrapped present, and looks at him with a sly smile, “Ohhh this is exactly the right colour. Oh my god that’s so nice,” She smiles as she takes out the lingerie, and looks at him nervously smiling. “Is it good? I didn’t know if you’d like the model,” She nods, “yeah, yeah. It’s so beautiful,” she says, moving towards him. “Suits you,” he whispers as he grabs her hips. She chuckles, putting her arms around his shoulders. “Thank you,” she says, giving him a kiss. “I was going to take you out to dinner today, but you know… We’ll do that somewhere this week.” 

She's simply chatting with George, pulling down her shirt to show her tan they were talking about. “Wait, did you get that bra from Arthur?” He chuckles, and her eyes go wide. “What? Why’d you think that?” She asks confused. “I swear he bought something in the colour just like that, he said his sister needed it to be picked up in London so he picked it up for her,” She quickly shakes her head in denial. “No, I got this for Christmas last year. Don’t know why Arthur would give me it,” She explains, and he looks at over at him and back at her. “Hmm, I don’t know, either,” he says suspiciously, taking another sip of his drink before she swiftly changes the conversation topic. “Oh, I saw you did the Sidemen video we were talking about before I left, how was it?”

Y/N nudges Arthur as she sits down next to him on the couch, “Want to explain why George knew about the bra?” She asks. He looks up from his phone in surprise, “What?!” He asks, and she giggles. “He said, and I quote, ‘Did you get that bra from Arthur?’, because you bought it when he was there,” She explains, and he chuckles. “Yeah, I did buy it when he was there. Wait, no, actually, why did he even see it?!” He asks in surprise. “We were talking about tanning and I showed him my tan line, so he saw the bra strap,” Arthur nods suspiciously at the explanation. “Uh-huh. Well, I won’t buy it when George is there next time. And you shouldn’t show him your bra!” She jokingly rolls her eyes, “I wasn’t just showing my bra!” Arthur laughs at her reaction and looks back at her with a smile. “Hmm. Well, I do want to see it. Should we go?” She looks down at the time. They’d been here for about three and a half hours, and it seemed socially acceptable to leave. “Yeah. I’ll grab my bag, and we go say goodbye.”

The third time, was the closest it ever got, at the Sidemen anniversary party.

They were glad it wasn’t someone already suspecting something, because if it was the couple definitely would’ve been found out. It wasn’t even a special evening to them, they’d already spend the entire week together and wanted to treat it as a casual night out with friends. It was going to be a fun occasion to get drunk, but Arthur knew that idea was thrown out the window when he saw her in a casual-chic black dress that suited her way too perfectly. He was glad the other boys weren’t there yet when he arrived at her place, where the group had agreed to meet, because he was just too stunned to speak. He was wearing a matching black shirt, with some casual white pants underneath. God, he looked insanely hot in it, and Y/N couldn’t help but voice the thought the second he took off his jacket. The rolled up sleeves, the two top buttons open, the little bit of chest — this outfit was really doing it for her. The same could be said about Arthur, who couldn’t keep himself away from her, constantly whispering compliments, touching her dress or staring at her. It was a dangerous game they were playing that evening, and they knew it all too well.

The party was very much going when they both had to use the bathroom, and they walked through the crowd holding hands. The bathrooms were not in the view from the dance floor, in a seemingly deserted hallway. So when Y/N had come back from the bathroom to Arthur just standing there, on his phone, she couldn’t resist. He looks up at the sound of her walking over, “You look so god-damn handsome,” she expresses, fixing his collar. “You look just as beautiful,” he says, softly grabbing her waist. He shamelessly scans her body for the umpteenth time that evening, and she simply looks at him, grinning. She gets closer to his face, making him gulp. “We make a hot looking couple, don’t we?” She questions, and he nods in response. “We sure do,” he lowly whispers, feeling her breath. Unable to resist any longer, he pulls her closer, pressing his lips on hers. The entire evening full of tension waiting to be released was felt as they passionately kissed each other. All they want is to pull each other as close as physically possible, only pausing to take a quick breath. Arthur has just turned them around, pressing her against the wall as a form of support, when they hear a cough. “Oh, sorry guys, sorry, sorry!” She gasps as she hears Harry’s voice, moving away from Arthur the second she hears the door lock. “Oh my god,” she says, and she looks at Arthur, who seems a bit stunned. “I forgot this wasn’t just an abandoned hallway, oh my god. Should I go in to like, talk to him?” She bites her lip as she fixes her dress. “Hmm, don’t bring it up, and if he didn’t recognise you, you didn’t see a thing. If he did see you, act like I’m a random influencer. And in the worst case scenario that he saw me too… He’ll keep quiet. I hope.” Lucky for them, all Harry asked Arthur is if he also saw a couple making out in the hallway, to which he said no. 

The fourth time was perfectly avoidable, if they hadn't been in the same room.

Sharing a room during the friend group skiing trip was a bad idea. They knew that. But George and Chris were sharing a room, and Harry and Will were, it was a logical thing. It would be, at least, if Y/N hadn’t always been the one to get the room for one, being the only girl or non-girlfriend. But they’d been careful, and all the previous close calls were long enough ago that it wouldn’t look suspicious. Right?

Arthur and Y/N had gone back to the lodge directly after dinner, tired from the long day of snowboarding after a late night filled with drinking games. They took a nice long shower in their en-suite bathroom — realistically their only time together without the lingering thought of one of their friends being able to hear. Whilst the rest was still partying in one of the ski huts, they decided to crawl into bed, watching a movie. They figured their friends would be back late enough for them to have gone to bed, so it wasn’t a surprise that they were already asleep when their friends got back. They’d come back around 11PM, surprised to find the living room area abandoned. “Have they gone to bed already?” Will asks, and Harry simply shrugs. “Y/N especially was pretty tired, I wouldn’t be surprised,” George expresses, and the rest of the boys agree. “Yeah, but Arthur too?” Chris simply shrugs, too tired to care. “You can go check on them, if you’re worried, but they’ll probably just show up by the morning either way,” Harry says, sitting down on the couch. “Hmm. I’m going to change, I’ll just check and see if they’re not kidnapped, or doing something I don’t want to see,” he jokes, making the other boys chuckle. Since they’d confirmed the rooms together, there’d been an ongoing joke about how long it would take for them to get off together— oblivious to how long they’d been doing that already. “For your own wellbeing, knock,” Chris calls after him, as the northerner walks up the stairs. Walking past their room, he softly knocks, not hearing any response. He opens the door and looks into the room to see the pair cuddled up, Y/N’s against Arthur’s chest and their arms intertwined. He recognises Arthur’s laptop on what looks to be Y/N’s night stand, and chuckles. Will didn’t want to assume anything, of course, so he decided not to. He quietly closes the door before walking to his own room.  “They were sleeping already, both of them,” is all he tells the other boys. 

When they finally get found out, it still comes as a shock, despite the ongoing joke.

Although Will didn’t tell anyone how he’d caught them in bed together during the skiing trip, the joke kept going. It had become the name of a group chat, they were constantly gossiping and were just waiting for the pair, who realistically didn’t show any signs of dating each other, to announce their relationship. They were so invested, that when they finally discover they were, in fact, in a relationship, it was almost like the boys were the ones that got caught. 

It was about a month after the skiing trip, and they had all gathered in Chris, George and Arthur Hill’s shared flat before a night out. Arthur and Y/N were in Chris’ bedroom getting ready, whilst the others were in the living room having drinks. “Have you noticed they keep talking about us?” He asks her, and she laughs, “Oh my god yeah. Their group chat is named Arthur&Y/N fans,” she exclaims, putting on her necklace. “It’s so funny, they really think we don’t realise they keep gossiping about us whilst they actually have no clue what’s actually going on,” he chuckles, walking over to help her out. “I know. Should we just, like, act like we’ve told them? And then watch them be confused,” she says, as he clicks the necklace together. “Thank you,” she softly expresses, and his hands move down, head leaning on her shoulder. “Ahh, yeah, that’d be hilarious. Imagine their reaction when we say we’ve been together for a year now,” he says, kissing her cheek. She giggles, looking at them in the mirror they were standing in front of. “It’s been the best year. I love you,” She turns her head to give him a kiss. “And I love you,” he says, pulling back. “Okay, we should make our way out there, or they will actually think we fucked.”

They make their way back to the living room separately, her going to the bathroom first. When she’s come back, they’re all gathered on and around the couch, playing a game of never have I ever. “Never have I ever… Kissed someone in this room on the lips,” Will says, making the group laugh. George and Arthur Hill raise their glass to each other before both taking a sip, and Chris looks up thinking. “Surely we have at some point, like, Maddie’s party?” Arthur asks Chris, reminding him of their days in Jersey. “Oh yeah, for sure,” he says laughing at the memory, the both of them taking a sip. As they discuss whether Stephen and Will’s accidental touching of lips counts, Y/N giggles, taking a sip. Only Arthur sees it, having kept an eye on her, and smirks as Will and Stephen take a sip. “Okay, next one. Drink if you’ve been on a date in the past week,” George asks, and Chris groans. “You’re targeting me,” he says, taking another sip of his drink, making George laugh. Arthur also takes a sip, making the boys look at him. “And who have you been out on a date with, Mr. Television?” He shrugs. “I went to a museum with the girl I’ve been going out with,” he simply says, not elaborating any further, even as the rest are looking at him expectantly. They all share a confused look as Y/N mumbles to herself. “Oh, was it this week? I guess it counts huh,” she takes a sip, which only Arthur Hill, sitting next to her, notices. He nudges her, “You went on a date? With who?” She nods, “Hmm. With my boyfriend,”  she casually says, and he looks at her shocked. “Your what?! Am I the last one to find out about this?“ She shakes her head, “No, one of the first. D’you need another drink?” Arthur shakes his head in confusion as she stands up and walks to the kitchen. She looks over to see most of them still had a drink. “Harry, another one?” She asks, holding up a beer bottle. “Uh yes, please,” she grabs another one, already opening it for him. She grabs one of the vodka-sprites her boyfriend was drinking, and hands him the can before handing Harry his beer and sitting back down. “I reckon we do that card game from last week and then go? Get us a bit further but doesn’t take too long,” Chris suggests, and they all agree. “Oh, I have the cards in my room, sorry, I’ll get them.”

When they’re all getting ready to leave the house, they’re all a bit more tipsy, everyone moving around grabbing their stuff. “Do you still have my keys?” Y/N asks Arthur, who’s chatting with Harry. “Oh, yeah, sorry,” he says, grabbing them from his pocket. “No, it’s fine, just wanted to be sure I hadn’t lost them. Do I need to keep yours in my bag?” She asks, and he nods, “Yes, please.” She naturally grabs his keys from his jacket, taking the typical girlfriend role of keeping his stuff. “What if you guys lose each other, and you can’t give him his keys?” Harry wonders, and they look at each other with a giggle. “We’re going home together, so we won’t leave without each other either way,” she explains, and Harry nods in understanding, but then looks between them as the implications catch up with him. Before he can say anything, they’ve both walked off doing their own things. Y/N goes to the bathroom, walking back to Arthur when she's done. “Excited to go out?” She asks, as he hands her his jacket. “Yeah, I am, it’s been a while. It’s cold out, wear it. I know you didn't bring anything and I have my hoodie,” She takes it with a sigh, “Fine. Thank you,” she says, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. She grabs his hand, and they walk to the kitchen, where most of the guys are, grabbing a drink for on the go. “Where are we going, actually?” She asks the group as she opens her canned cocktail. “We’ll be walking to Cuckoo’s and see if any of the places there are anything exciting today,” Chris says, and she nods, “cool,” before turning to her boyfriend again. “Are we going to yours then? We could just walk instead of taking an Uber to mine,” she softly asks him. His hand his on her back as he looks down at her, “Yeah, that’s fine,” he says as she leans against him, looking at all their friends chatting. “Are we actually waiting for anyone?” She thinks out loud, looking around the group. “Just George and Harry going to the bathroom, I think,” she nods as she makes her way over to the door, sitting down to put on her sneakers. Arthur gives her a hand and she stands up, quickly thanking him with a kiss. George looks around the group of guys, all too stunned to speak. “I wasn’t the only one that saw that, right?” Will shakes his head. “No, what’s going on there, mate?” He asks, whilst Arthur Hill points at the couple. “So he IS the boyfriend!” He exclaims, making the pair blush lightly. “Right, okay, well. Did you guys just start dating, or?” Chris asks curiously, and Y/N rolls her eyes. “We know you’ve bet on it, and you’ve all lost, so I reckon we get the money. Unless anyone bet on before the skiing trip?” She asks, and they all shake their heads. All the guys have similar facial expressions, a combination of shock and getting caught. Will is the first to speak up, “so, how long have you been dating, then? Because I saw you all cuddly during the skiing trip, but I didn’t want to assume,” he admits, and Arthur looks at her with a sheepish grin. He puts his arm around her pulling her closer, “Well, we’ve been together for a year, next week,” he casually says, and chaos ensues. All sorts of surprised expressions come out, mixed with words of betrayal such as “how could you do this” and excitement. “A year ago, so that’s… Wait, you weren’t together before we lived here, were you?” Chris wonders. “Well… We got together just before I went away to Milan for a month, so you were about to move in,” Y/N explains, and he nods. “Fuck, that’s a while, oh my god,” Y/N and Arthur simply laugh at all their friends’ reactions. “Wait wait wait, at the Sidemen party, when I saw those people kissing, was that actually just you?” Harry asks, and Arthur scratches his head whilst Y/N looks down in embarrassment. “Yeah, we honestly thought you saw us,” Arthur admits, cheeks turned red as Harry laughs. “Okay, enough of us, let’s go,” Y/N says, opening the door. She grabs Arthur’s hand, pulling him with her, and the rest of the guys all follow them laughing. “Don’t think this is it, we need the details!!”

[lullxby]

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ RAY OF SUNSHINE (p.j.)

summary : in which percy jackson feels attached, in some way, to a girl he just met.

w.c. : 1,023

a/n : this is the first part of what's gonna be a full book! i'm going to post it on wattpad as soon as i write the second chapter! wattpad: poet1cmystery

warning(s) : none!

| riordanverse masterlist | navigation | part 2 |

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the last thing percy remembered was the feeling of blood rushing to his head, then darkness. 

now he was lying on a small cot, one of the few empty ones in the infirmary. a thin blanket covered him, one that, no doubt, rested on top of many other wounded half-bloods. the air was brisk, despite the barrier keeping out most of the heavy forms of weather. he moved his hands up to grab the top of the blanket, causing a tingling sensation to run to the tips of his fingers. 

his movement stopped, and his limbs felt normal again after the moment of stillness. confusion ebbed his mind, questions of how long he was out, and what had even happened. those thoughts couldn’t last for long, as he soon heard a girl’s voice exclaim something close to, “you’re finally awake.” 

he nodded, clearing his throat to try to get some of the patchiness away. the boy spoke up, his voice scratchy and still slightly covered in a viel of sleepiness. 

“do you have any water, or something?” he asked, glancing around at the table beside the bed. the only thing sitting on it was a book. he couldn’t quite decipher the words, the letters scrambling and jumbling into words he knew didn’t exist. 

“oh, yeah, let me fetch that. is there anything else?” the girl’s voice was sweet.. her face was completely lost on percy, surprising him with even more confusion. 

“uh, no,” he grunted out, just wanting to fall asleep again. his tone wasn’t rude to her, just overall a tired voice. 

the next he knew, the girl was out of the room, leaving him alone to his thoughts. 

his head fell against the pillow beneath it, the plushness doing nothing to support it. despite his still almost-asleep state of mind, he couldn’t help but be enthralled by the girl. 

soon enough, her smiling face returned to the small room. she came holding a decently sized metal water bottle, along with a small, clear bag of blue candies. "i heard from somebody that you liked these, so i thought i’d grab some, but it’s alright if you aren’t hungry. you just woke up, so no worries,” she assured, placing the items on the wooden table. 

she looked over the boy’s body for a minute, gently peeling back the thin covering to show his bare torso. the wounds that had been littering it just a few hours before were almost completely erased at this point, thanks to the magical properties of ambrosia. She hummed in satisfaction, folding the blanket back over him and taking a step back. 

percy just let her do what she needed to– it wasn’t his first time in the infirmirary, and definitely not his last. even though he had just been knocked out for almost the whole day, he was feeling almost fine. he reached up, his muscles feeling loose from the stillness they had been in. his hand wrapped around the bottle the girl had filled with water for him, bringing the small spout to his lips. to him, the bottle was filled with liquid gold. 

he gulped it down thirstily, quickly finishing it with a sheepish look on his face. the girl across from him didn’t seem to notice, her head buried in paperwork sitting on a clipboard. “hey, what’s your name? i haven’t seen you around.” he didn’t want to interrupt her, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. 

“y/n. y/n y/l/n,” she answered, looking up from the sheet she was working on. a small smile persisted on her face, just as it had for the entirety of their short interaction that day. 

he noticed that it never left, just merely grew or shrunk. 

like a ray of sunshine, he thought. 

“i like that,” percy admitted, “it suits you, y’know? like, you definitely look like a y/n.”

“well, thank you? i think?” she laughed out, quickly gauging percy’s personality. He just nodded in response, then looked down at his hands, playing mindlessly with the loose thread of the old blanket.

she turned over the paper on the clipboard before sliding it under her arm the wood feeling smooth against her skin. she clapped her hands together, “well, physically, you look great. you can leave whenever you feel good enough to,” she stated, assuming the boy still felt decently tired. 

once again, percy’s only response was a nod, causing the y/n to just stand there, and awkward silence falling over them. 

“well…” the girl trailed off, “i’m gonna go, maybe i’ll see you around.” she added the last bit after, her smile widening. she looked to him for a reaction. he smiled back at her. she took that as a signal to leave, making percy suddenly wish he had asked her to stay longer. he could smell the scent of her perfume as it wanted over him, enveloping him with the fragrance. 

he watched as she passed by the open doorway a couple times, likely attending to other sick or wounded half-bloods. he was never too close with anyone from the apollo cabin, but suddenly he felt himself taking an interest in the group of teens. he was well aware that the conversations with y/n had only lasted mere minutes, but felt a connection with her on some level. he didn’t know why or how, but he did. 

he shortly felt himself growing tired again, a sudden shine of the sun washing over him as it set into the evening. it warmed him enough for him to discard the thin blanket atop his body. the fabric fell to the floor, he’d pick it up later. the boy turned away from the sun, feeling its’ heat against his bare back, causing a smile to grace his pink lips. he tucked his arms under the pillow he was lying on, adding more support beneath his head, letting him drift into a comfortable sleep. 

taglist : @iamforeverandalwaystired, message me or leave it here to be added!

[sugarnspice630]

Level Up - San

"The more noise you make, the faster it’ll go, got it?"

•pairing: dom!San x sub!reader

•word count: 1.3k

•tags: mdni, smut, overstimulation, humiliation, vibrator use (f receiving, m controlling), gamer san, Yunho, Jongho, and Wooyoung are featured in this fic with a focus on Jongho, bondage, reader gets ignored by San, slight praise, slight degradation, heavy teasing

Summary: San was tired of you interrupting his important game-play, so he took care of the problem by tying you up and making you cum many times, while the other members could hear.

Note: Reader internal dialogue will be blue text, San speaking but reader not fully paying attention will be red text.

A/N: Oddly enough this was a fantasy me and my ex had with each other, but we're no longer together so I changed it to be with men I care about now! Please let me know what you think and show your support by reblogging, liking, commenting, etc. Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

San had enough of you interrupting his video game time with the members. Sitting in his lap, just trying to watch him play, giving him kisses every time he got a kill or did something good. Your constant need for attention was driving him crazy, and he had to do something about it. He excused himself from the party chat and muted his mic, or so he thought, before grabbing you off his lap and throwing you down onto the bed.

“S-San? What the fuck?!”

“If you’re not going to be a good girl and not bother me when I’m in the middle of an important mission, then I’ll have to force you to be one.” He snarls as he aggressively grabs your hands and ties them together before attaching your tied hands to the contraption hanging from above your bed.

“S-San I’m sorry!” You stutter in panic at the sudden shift in mood. You didn’t mean to set him off. You just haven’t seen him for a really long time and wanted to spend time with him, but I guess he needed his alone time. 

“Sorry is not gonna save you this time princess.” He turns away to grab something from the nightstand drawer. You realize what he grabbed, and you swallow the knot in your throat.

“S-Sannie please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you can only watch as he pulls your pajama shorts and underwear away from your waist, turns the vibrator on, places it in your underwear, and snaps the bands back to your skin.

“Shut it.” He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You furrow your eyebrows and bite the inside of your lip. The vibrator was pressing right against your bud and already causing a sensation that you knew if it continued, you would cum many times. He lets go of your face and shakes the vibrator’s remote in a taunting way.

“The more noise you make, the faster it’ll go, got it?” You nod your head softly, trying to suppress the moan that is threatening to come out already. San leans back away from you and steps away to continue his game. You watch as he picks his headset back up, places it on his head, leaving one ear uncovered to hear if you make any sound, and continues like nothing happened. 

“Hey, sorry guys, I’m back now.” 

You’re biting the inside of your lip hard, trying not to make noise, and just taking it as it is. You’re trying to focus on San talking to the members to take away from the vibrating monster tucked in your underwear. 

“What do you mean?” He sounds concerned…fuck this vibrator is getting on your nerves. 

“No no, she’s…fine. All taken care of.” Maybe if you move your legs a little, it’ll take the pressure off your clit. You move your legs, but it doesn’t solve the problem and only makes you whimper. Fuck…did he hear that? How loud were you? You look up at where San is sitting, and he slowly turns his head to the side, indicating that he heard you. He picks up the remote, increases the speed, and sits the remote back down. You close your eyes tightly and squeeze your legs together. Fuck fuck fuck, that was a bad idea! The vibrator only presses closer to you. You squirm on the bed and try to pull on your restraints, it’s no use; they are not budging. 

“Wooyoung don’t, I got it. No, I said I got it! I’ll kill the Sova.” San please, for the love of god stop talking and just get over here and help me. You tilt your head down and accidentally let out a moan. You can’t even bring yourself to raise your head because you know what’s coming. You feel the speed of the vibrator increase again. “Guys, I told you she’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He’s talking about you, they can hear you. Maybe they could come and help?

“Y-Yunho? Jongho? Wooyoung? H-help.” You cry out and let out some moans in between. You hear San huff, and he turns around in his chair to look at you. You look up at him, and his pants are pulled down a little and his whole cock is out and rock hard. You stare in awe and feel your mouth water a bit. I-I want it. You look up at him with begging eyes, but when your eyes meet his, there is a cold, blank stare looking back at you. He brings his finger to his lips, signing for you to stay quiet, and increases the speed of the vibrator yet again. This has to be the highest setting by now! You moan out softly and you can feel the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, like you are close to your release. 

“S-Sannie please!” You watch as he turns back around, but you catch a slight smirk on his face. He’s enjoying this. That sick fuck! You whimper out a couple more times and squirm your legs together, trying to get yourself off as quick as you can so you can end this. “Don’t you guys enjoy the sounds she’s making~? Cute, little girl, can’t behave for me at all~.” He taunts the members he’s playing with. He’s humiliating you..on purpose! Fuck this feeling, it’s too much! I can’t! You hang your mouth open and cry out softly as you cum for the first time that night. You tilt your head back and just let all the feelings come out. 

“There’s one for you boys~. Should we try for more~?” What does he mean more? You feel the vibrator slow down back to its original speed, and it allows you to catch your breath for a few minutes. You look up to where San is sitting with half-lidded eyes. You desperately want him to turn around and see how much you are struggling, and to help you out. Your breathing is still heavy, but you are not moaning like crazy anymore. “What setting do you want Jongho~?” You move your legs again to take the pressure off and to try to get the vibrator off of your clit to prevent you from being overstimulated. “Oh hoh~ good choice man~.” You feel the vibrator pulse, and then stop, pulse, and then stop. Fuck! N-no!

“M-make it stop. Please~!” The vibrator pulsing and then not was exactly the sensation you needed to get you close to another orgasm. “I think she likes that one Jongho~.” You were already sensitive from the first orgasm, and if this motion continued, you were certain you would cum again sooner rather than later. Letting out a few pathetic whimpers, you close your eyes, and you can feel the corners of your eyes getting wet. “I-I can’t~!” “You hear her, Jongho? You’re making her feel this way.” You sob out from the overstimulation and moan out loudly. “San, please help me!” 

“I think the boys wanna hear you more princess~. I’m not doing anything to help you.” Moaning out at his words, you feel a knot forming in your stomach again. Every noise that comes out of you is a whimper or a moan, until eventually you feel the knot come undone and cum over the vibrator again. The shrill scream-like moan you let out would definitely be concerning if the other members heard it without context.

“My my~ that was a good one~,” San paused his words to turn around and look at you, tilting his head softly to the side and looking at you with half-lidded eyes. "Boys, I wish you could see her right now~. So fucked out and beautiful. I know, I know you all wish to see, but she’s mine, and I don’t feel like sharing.”

Looking up at San, you beg him to stop this torture, quietly saying ‘please’ over and over again. He gets up and gently caresses your face, lifting your chin to make you look at him. He smirks at you softly and asks a question, but more so to the members, cause you know he wasn’t giving you the choice tonight.

“Let’s go for one more, shall we~?”

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 09/10/2024 Carlos Sainz - Spanking and Punishment

Plot: Carlos doesn’t take lightly to how you talk to the ‘boys’ of the paddock

Warnings: Kinktober SMUT, spanking, punishment, kinda mean! Carlos, dirty talk, name calling, etc 18+ Minors DNI

Carlos loved taking you to the races, it was a way to prove that he was taken and taken by someone like you.

You, a hot spicy model that when you walked through the paddock had all the boys drooling and stopping their work. Your face card was lethal and somehow made an appearance on every weekend you attended.

You’d be in the Ferrari garage talking to Alexandra about fashion and upcoming thing you had to do after the race weekend and how you tried to keep your work local to Carlos and on he weekdays so weekends, race weekends were left free for him.

It was very hot in Singapore so you’re outfit whilst still respectful, wasn’t exactly on the modest side, the minute you entered the paddock wolf whistles were heard from every angle. You beamed smiles at the photographers who you passed and shared greetings with people who came up to you as you made your way through the garage.

“Y/N! Hi!” A voice calls after you, you head whipping round too meet the gleam of Lando Norris.

“Hey!” You beam back, pulling him into a hug and kissing either one of his cheeks.

“How have you been we missed you in Baku” he smiles acknowledging how you weren’t in fact at the last race.

“Yeah been good. It was a shame I had a shoot in LA, but I’m here nod think I’ll be good for Texas too! Can’t believe this is the last year I’ll be in the Ferrari paddock though, Red’s literally my colour” you complain to Lando.

“Mmmmm yeah? I think you’d look pretty good in Papaya … you know if you ever wanted to come over to us” he flirts and you shake your head, he was always like this with you ever since you first joined Carlos in the McLaren paddock. It started as a way just to rile Carlos up before media duties and races and then it was just fun seeing your reaction.

“Oh yeah? Need me an LN4 cap?” He tease and his cheeks redden slightly not expecting you to retaliate so quickly.

“Yes, for sure” he grins but a cough and arm circling round your waist interrupts.

“Lando… please leave my girlfriend alone” Carlos grins but you can sense the jealousy whereas Lando laughs it off, not thinking he was being serious. You’re about to leave to get to the hospitality suite when Carlos arms tightens around you and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“You’re getting it when we finish up here” he grits out before releasing you, placing a soft kiss on ou forehead and sending you off with a light tap on your bum while he continues to talk to Lando.

You walk around then Ferrari garage before you find yourself talking to a group of mechanics, Carlos no where to be seen but all their stories were so interesting you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to find more about your boyfriends team.

“What’s this?” Carlos asks interrupting one of the mechanics stories about his trip to Venezuela and where he’d just hopped on a random bus and ended up in the middle of nowhere.

“I’m in the middle of a story about, Mattheo’s trip to Venezuela” you smile, a glint of mischief in your eyes as you sip on the drink one of the group had fetched for you.

After an exhaustingly long day, you went back to the hotel with Carlos. You could tell he was a little antsy from the day, when you tried to take a hold his his hand he scrunched it away to focus on the road making you sigh out.

Once in the hotel room Carlos is immediately pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“You’ve been a bad girl, talking to all those … boys when you have a real man right here” he grunts out looking over at you. He was pretty upset with just how much talking you’d done today. And to him, your bright smile and sparkly eyes was you flirting but little did he no that was just your natural aura and charm working.

That’s actually how you got HIM hooked in the first place.

“I haven’t i only have eyes for you I promise” you smile softly at him, but your bent over his legs ass up in the air. He hitches the satin dress you wore for r to see in the paddock today, to reveal your lacy red thing just to him.

“My pretty pretty baby you know what’s about to happen right? You need to be punished for today!” He says in a calm voice making you moan the more pressure he put on your back to press into him.

“Yes Carlos” you breath out.

“You’re going to count every single one until I’m done okay. And if you don’t say the number well start again okay?” He explains and you nod, very used to this with Carlos. It’s something you’d both established pretty early on in the relationship as something you both get enjoyment out of.

His hand comes down for the first slap, the sound echoing around the room as your feel the sting and jiggle of your behind.

“1” you breath out for the first time. It was a lighter one, but that’s how Carlos stated, he always built himself up.

His hand come down again, harder this time but still just enough so it was a pleasurable sting that had you moaning into the open air before you could say the next number.

“2” you moan as his hand lightly rubs over the swelling red mark on your bum.

You get through all the way to number 8 when he’d started to get a little tougher, not always rubbing away the pain after and it coming more consecutively.

His hand does a little love tap next that has you not say anything as you didn’t think it counts making him sigh.

“Start from the beginning baby” he sighs in what only sounds like disappointment.

And so you did, starting from one again and it was torture. This time you’d managed to get through to 15. Tears were streaming down your eyes in a good way, a frustrating mix of pain and pleasure that wasn’t quiet enough to send you over the edge but still felt good.

He pulled you up to straddle him where he easily slipped himself out of his jogging bottoms. He pulls your thing to the side of your ass holding it there as he slips himself in with a sigh. You always felt so good wrapped around him.

“You can’t cum until I say okay?” He adds and you nod, you help him by bouncing up and down, your hands finding the bottom of his t-shirt to pull up and over his head. The Ferrari team shirt it chucked to the floor while your hands roam his now bare back your nails lightly scratching along his shoulder blades as you try keep yourself as physically close to him as possible.

He keeps you on the edge, slowing his own thrusts down and holding your hips drilling you against him to prolong your feelings. He releases inside, the feeling of warmth filling up and your so close yourself until Carlos stops and pulls straight out of you.

“You don’t get to, not tonight … not after today” he smirks as he looks at your list blown eyes and tears filling them at the realisation he’s just denied you your orgasm. You groan in frustration as you climb off him and jump into the bed face down.

“Come on amor, it’s not that bad” he says kissing the top of your head before walking into the bathroom to clean himself up.

“Hopefully this has taught you a valuable lesson Cariño no?” He laughs seeing your annoyed expression at him.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[inurnctdreams]

dress - m.l

idol!mark x idol fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship, one shot, song fic (maybe?? i wouldn’t class it as one but there are references to lyrics and the song inspired the fic so??)

warnings: swearing, very suggestive (grinding, making out, over the clothes stuff but no explicit sex), alcohol, mentions of being tipsy/drunk (mark and reader have been drinking but everything is consensual), pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, mine/yours, dude (affectionate)), mdni

wc: 3.1k

notes: this entire thing stemmed from this gifset that gave me mark brainrot and made me think of the song dress by taylor swift

you’re pretty sure you’re supposed to be paying attention to the conversation happening in front of you right now. one of the executives for mbc… or was it kbs? whoever it was, they were important in the industry and they were talking at you and your group mates about your latest comeback stage… or maybe next year’s end of year concert that was already in the planning stages? you’d kind of stopped listening about five minutes ago. and it wasn’t your fault, really. you took your career seriously and wouldn’t dream of disrespecting anyone who was showing interest in your group by ignoring them usually, but you’d heard zhong chenle’s signature dolphin laugh across the room and that had been it. he’s here.

it would obviously be absolutely, outrageously scandalous for you to take off mid conversation, make a beeline for the group that had walked in and greet him like you want to. you have some modicum of self control and societal responsibility. and it isn’t a surprise, you knew he’d be here, you’d even gotten updates via text with a rough estimate of when he’d walk in. but you haven’t seen him in person in over three weeks and you’ve been looking forward to this night since the last time he’d kissed you goodbye at your door before sneaking back out of your dorm building to his car. 3am on a tuesday morning had turned out to be the only time the both of you were in the same city and without obligations in months. comebacks, tours, interviews. both of your lives were so hectic, it was difficult enough to get a moment to yourself to breathe, let alone together. now he’s here, in the same room as you, and you can’t do anything about it. the anticipation is killing you.

it hadn’t stopped you from pausing mid sentence when you’d registered his presence, though. disguising it with a cough and a modest apology, you’d finished your words and promptly stopped contributing to the conversation. smiling politely with your best poker face on as you tuned out of whatever was being discussed further and listened out across the room for any sign of him. chenle’s laugh is infectious, so donghyuck’s high pitched giggles soon joined in, audible above the rumble of laughter that had erupted from that corner of the room. but that was it. once the joke had worn off, the usual sounds of casual conversation replaced it, no doubt one of the older members’ doing as they reminded them of their surroundings. the first hour or so of award show after parties tend to be just the thing you’re ignoring: prominent figures in the industry congratulating and backhandedly complimenting idols whilst trying to promote something or take advantage of rookies with less media training by getting them to reveal secrets or agree to things.

once they’ve either gotten what they wanted or given up trying, they make their way out and the real party starts. realising you’re going to get nothing from the indiscernible voices in their direction, you start to work out how long you’ve been here, and how long you have to wait before it won’t be suspicious of you to drag your group over there to greet them. unfortunately, you’re interrupted midway through your mental calculations by something digging into your side. it’s gone before you even register the touch, light and inconspicuous. you glance down momentarily before meeting the eyes of your group mate, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“sorry, i didn’t quite catch that last bit.” your years of experience in the spotlight and exceptional training kick in immediately. you turn back to the middle-aged man in front of you with a practised innocent smile. “what were you saying?”

you smile graciously at the waitress as she hands you a flute of expensive champagne off of the shiny silver tray in her hand. taking a small sip, you school your face into a neutral expression to hide the wince at the acidic taste. you’ve never been much of a fan of the stuff, but it’s always handed out at events so you’ve gotten somewhat used to it in the years you’ve been legally allowed to drink at them. this is your second glass, and yet again you find yourself longing for the boring portion of the night to be over so the alcohol can start flowing more freely. you meet the eyes of your group mate and share a look, she hates champagne too. giggling to yourselves, you almost don’t notice the group of twenty-something boys heading in your direction, led by taeyong.

you’re immediately at full attention, straightening up from the pillar you’d been leaning against and placing your half full champagne flute on the nearest surface as you grin at your friends approaching. it’s almost comical, how the amount of people surrounding you in that moment feels like you’re looking for him in a crowd rather than just among his own group members. but then yuta moves to say hi to your group mate and there he is. god, he looks heavenly. the all black ensemble complimented by silver jewellery, his artfully tousled hair, the hint of gloss that have his lips looking so shiny and kissable it’s taking all of your entire being not to ravish him right here and now in the middle of this crowded room. not that he needs any of it to start up the roaring of butterflies in your stomach or trigger the giddy high you’re feeling. no, mark lee makes you feel like this every time he looks at you. barefaced, old t-shirt and glasses on with a hint of stubble starting to grow in as you sit next to him in the studio. bleary eyed, half asleep and hair sticking up as your phone alarm goes off on his bedside table. hoodie, snapback and face mask hiding most of his face as he slips into your practise room and catches your gaze in the mirror.

“y/n.” and everything just stops. the rest of the room falls away, the roar of conversation as your groups say hi is silenced, all you can see, hear, feel is him. the way he looks you up and down appreciatively that still makes your heart flutter despite it happening every time he sees you. he just has this way of making you feel like you’re the only one his attention would ever be captured by.

“hi, mark.” there’s a smile on your face, and you’re trying to make it your usual polite idol, public appearance smile, but really you have no control and you can feel the corners of your mouth turning up further against your will. you think that if you looked, his would be similar, probably that mischievous half-smirk he does that makes his dimple appear. and you love his dimple, but you’re currently captivated by the lovestruck look in his eyes. in that moment, you’re thankful you’d put your glass down because you would’ve dropped it. your hands shake as you force yourself to hold back from him. your groups are publicly very good friends, having known each other as trainees and debuting within a year of each other. you and mark have been best friends for years, and that’s all it was until the mutual pining hit its peak. there was something so beautiful about being in love with your best friend, with someone who understood how demanding your career was and already knew everything about you and who was still your best friend alongside being your boyfriend. around you, the rest of nct are giving your group mates half-hugs or shoulder nudges, but you don’t move to touch him, knowing you won’t let go if you initiate physical contact.

“y/n!” johnny rips you from your bubble. you have no idea how long you and mark were stood there, staring into each other’s eyes with that look on your faces, but it must’ve been long enough if someone’s intervened. the older idol pulls you into a short hug, but not before leaning down to murmur in your ear. “we know you guys are like, sickeningly in love, but would it kill you to not make it super obvious while there’s still cameras everywhere?”

oops.

“mark!” you whisper. or at least you hope you do, you’re pretty tipsy by this point in the evening. he just laughs, equally inebriated, and continues pulling you down the empty corridor, fingers intertwined. on a scale of zero to having your relationship exposed by dispatch come morning, sneaking off together a mere forty minutes after the industry execs had left the party is probably a solid deniable accusation. not exactly a great idea, but if anyone found out it wouldn’t be the end of the world, just carefully curated excuses in a statement and an earful from management. the first couple of doors he tries are locked, but third time seems to be the charm as you’re pulled into a room and plunged into darkness when the door clicks shut behind you.

“c’mere baby.” and you let go. all the pressure from being around so many people that could ruin your careers with one article, all the stolen glances across the room, all the secret smiles you share, all the patience that had been slowly wearing thin the longer you were in his proximity but not being able to do anything about it. it’s been been building all evening, and the dam finally breaks.

you practically throw yourself into his arms, winding your own around his neck as his wrap around your middle. he holds you to him so tight it hurts a little, but you’re probably slightly choking him with how strong your own grip is. the initial ‘holy shit you’re here and i can touch you without everyone looking’ moment passes and you both relax slightly. he still holds you close but it’s more grounding and comforting than anything. you bury your face into his neck and just let yourself breathe him in. his scent, the underlying notes of mark and home underneath the fancy cologne. the steady, comforting beat of his pulse against you. his arms are your safe place and being held by him makes everything better, even if just a little. you can’t count the number of times you’ve been exhausted or stressed or upset or scared or angry and all he’s had to do is pull you into him. you’ve cried on him, ranted into his chest and listened to him murmur words of encouragement and reassurance and love into your ear. there’s no other place you’d ever want to be. and even when you couldn’t physically be with him, he’s been there on facetime, or phone call, or over text. you’ve done the same for him without hesitation more times than you can imagine. he’s your person, your best friend, your soulmate, your everything, your one and only, your lifeline. you feel him press firm kisses into your hair and smile against his throat, snuggling into him happily.

“missed you.” you mumble. the alcohol in your system is amplifying the giddy feeling that’s thrumming through your entire being. all semblance of public image and self-control come crumbling down in front of him like always until all that’s left is the unguarded, most raw versions of yourselves laid bare for each other. he squeezes your hips and pulls back a little to look you in the eyes. you’ve adjusted to the darkness enough to make out his facial features and that same unfiltered, pure love is staring back at you from earlier but now he’s unabashedly grinning at you and his cheeks are flushed with happiness (and alcohol). his dimple is out in full force as he giggles right back at you. this is your mark, the one reserved for you and you only.

“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he whispers. “wish we could stay in here forever, just us.”

“i know.” you bite your lip, and his eyes zero in on your mouth. “wait, where even are we?”

“i don’t care.” and just as quickly as the wholesome, lovesick feeling had flooded you, the arousal and want flares up, threatening to consume you the second he grabs your face and claims your lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. he walks you both backwards until you’re pressed up against the door, gripping the sides of his jacket both for stability and to satiate the overwhelming need to get your hands on him. you whine against his lips as one of his hands slips into your hair and pulls gently, letting your hands roam under his jacket all over his waist and up his chest until they’re holding his shoulders. you use the leverage to push yourself up onto your tiptoes to match his heated, open-mouth kisses with the same carnal energy. he groans, the sound making you shiver and adding to the warmth pooling in your abdomen. the hand that’s not in your hair drops down to slide around you and grab your hip, pulling you even closer so you’re flush against his body. the need for oxygen is beginning to grow, but you’re addicted to the floaty, lightheaded feeling that comes along with it. it soon becomes too much, though, the both of you breathing heavily as you break away for air, but he wastes no time in leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw and neck, each one hotter and more filthy than the last.

“mark.” you whimper, turning your head to the side to grant him more access to your throat. he nips at your pulse point softly, careful not to leave a visible mark, but it makes you gasp and arch into him further all the same.

“my pretty girl.” he pants against your skin. “all mine.”

“mm-hmm.” you agree. “yours.” and you are, fully and irrevocably his in every sense of the word. you thread your own hands into his hair and pull his face back up to kiss him again. you could spend forever kissing him and never be satisfied, never get bored. it doesn’t matter than you know him better than you know yourself, or that you’ve spent hours in this exact same position with him already. there seems to be this endless need inside you for mark lee that started when you met him. you were kids back then, but you always craved his presence, his attention. over the years it’s developed, but the need for him has never wavered, even after he became yours.

“been thinking about this all night, you look incredible.” he confesses between kisses, both hands dropping from around you to wander under your dress and start caressing your thighs. his touch is electrifying, leaving trails of fire in his wake as he slides his hands up to grab your ass and squeeze it. the subsequent jolt of excitement has you whimpering against him and his grip moves to the crease where your ass and thighs meet. he kneads the soft flesh there sensually before squeezing again, and that’s all the warning you get before he lifts you up and presses you back against the door in one fluid motion without even breaking the kiss. you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, ankles crossing against his back. not that you think he’ll drop you, it’s never happened before, you just use the leverage to pull him in until you’re happily trapped between the cold, hard surface of the door and your boyfriend’s warm, inviting body. you both groan as his hips roll into yours. whether it was a result of you pulling him in or an intentional movement on his part is unknown, but the way he bites your lip and grinds his crotch into yours again is definitely not an accident. with you now supporting yourself, he’s free to bring one hand up to your chest, groping at your tits through your dress. his hips haven’t stopped moving, and you can feel the way he’s quickly hardening against your underwear. whilst the sensation is incredible, it snaps you out of the trance you’ve been in.

“babe.” you moan. “mark, baby, we can’t.”

“you mean we shouldn’t.” he smirks.

“no, i mean someone is going to notice we’re gone soon, if they haven’t already, and come looking for us.” you counter. he stops moving and looks up at you, the fog of arousal starting to clear from his expression. he sighs exasperatedly, knowing you’re right.

“fine.” he lowers you back to your feet. you know you both probably no longer resemble the perfect idol look your stylists and hair and makeup artists crafted before you decided to sneak off for a tipsy make out session in one of the back rooms, so you feel around for a light switch. your eyes squeeze shut as the room is flooded with light, blinking a couple times to readjust your vision. a giggle escapes you as you take in how adorably disheveled mark looks, hair tousled, collar rumpled and the pink hue of your lipstick smudged around his lips. although, you’re sure you look pretty similar.

you spend a couple minutes making yourselves look presentable again before you rejoin the party. “i should probably go first, give you a couple of extra minutes to calm down.” you tease, eyeing the tent in his pants.

“i bet if i checked, you’d still be soaking wet for me.” he retorts, eyes darkening slightly, sending a flush of heat straight to your core. he’s not lying. you take a deep breath to compose yourself before opening the door and stepping out into the corridor. you turn back to your boyfriend.

“behave.”

“the rest of this party’s gonna be torture, having to watch you go around looking like that.” he looks you up and down appreciatively again, though this time it’s a lot less innocent. you’re so glad that your schedules have calmed down enough to allow you more time together for the next month or so, the last couple months without being able to see him properly have been rough.

“well you can show me how much you like it when we get back to yours, later.”

“i plan to.”

“good. ‘cause i only bought this dress so you could take it off.” you smirk as the door shuts behind you.

“not helping, dude!” his voice is muffled as you begin walking back towards the party, giggling to yourself as you go. “i hate you!”

“no you don’t!”

[msfantasy]

Return Home Visit

Paul Lahote x Cullen!Reader

Summary: Rosalie and Emmets daughter visits during college break.

“I said get out of my house dog!” Rosalie spits venomously to Paul who stands awkwardly in the door way. “I don’t care if she’s your imprint, she’s not going to be with you! Over my dead body!”

“You can’t keep her from me forever.” Paul retorts edging in closer. “She deserve to know she’s my imprint, we’ll be together eventually whether you like it or not.” Rosalie pulls her fist back which Emmet lunges and grabs her arm before any damage is inflicted.

“Don’t, she’s almost here.” Emmet whispers. Everyone in the Cullen household listens to the echoing foot steps walking up the drive way.

“Leave before-“ Your voice cuts off Rosalie’s threat.

“Oh my god Paul?! Is that you? What are you doing here?” You squeaked excitedly, placing your bags down only to swing your arms around Paul’s neck pulling him into a tight hug. Leaning away, Paul looks down to your face, looking into your beaming eyes. God his heart yearns for your affection. He just wanted to look into your eyes forever, and hold you just like you are forever. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” But before Paul could utter another word, Rosalie interrupts.

“Uh - hello? Aren’t you going to greet your own mother first?” Rosalie snaps making you quickly withdrawal from Paul’s embrace, the warmth of embarrassment creeps along your cheeks.

You quickly pull your mother into a tight hug. “I missed you Ma.” Your sweet words of proclamation melt Rosalie’s soul into a puddle. Your presence always managed to soothe her nerves.

“My turn babygirl, come give your old man a hug.” Your hulking father doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. He just wraps his large arms around you and Rosalie. “Both my girls are here with me. The world feels right again.” His corny words only make you giggle.

“Come now, we have your favourite take away ready on speed dial.” Rosalie hoaxes making you giddy with excitement.

“Thank ma, I’m starving! What do you feel like Paul? They have an awesome burger that has your name all over it.” Paul sheepishly enters the house hesitant under Rosalie’s murderous gaze.

“Sweetness… I thought it would just be a family evening…” You look to your dad to sooth the vein popping out of your mothers forehead, but your father only folds to your mother. Typical.

“She’s right sweetheart, we just want to spend the night with our daughter, we haven’t seen you in so long. I’m sure you understand Paul.” He says amicably, but the strong push of Emmets hands are anything but as Paul goes tumbling out the door and thudding shut on your long time crush which only serves to anger you further with the rush of humiliation.

“What is up with you guys?! What’s your problem with Paul anyway?” Your cheeks begin flaring in humiliation at your parents not so subtle dislike. “Ever since I met Paul you’ve acted so hostile and unwelcoming towards him. He’s never even done anything to deserve your wrath.”

“He’s a turns into a dog! They’re slave to their emotions, what happens if he gets upset with you one day and you come out more disfigured than Emily?” The horror of your parents words and actions light your head on fire.

“Uncle Jasper almost wrote the end date on my gravestone once, or have you forgotten?” You spit angerily, Rosalie doesn’t flinch.

“I have never forgotten, it’s why we are so cautious.”

“Your caution is suffocating me! I cannot live a long a fulfilling life if you guys are protecting me at every moment. Besides it’s not life Paul and I are serious or anything.” Now Emmet twitches at your statement.

“What does that mean?” Your Pa’s jaw clenches at your insinuation.

“It doesn’t mean anything Pops, it just means you and Ma are so over protective that we haven’t gotten more serious.” Your voice waivers.

Too late the words have settled outside of your mouth and Emmet looks ready to commit murder.

“That filthy beast! I’ll kill him!” Emmet announces, trudging to the door with great anger and throwing open the glass door.

It took all members of the Cullen family to hold Emmet back from a rampage. The boys had no choice but to call in Bella for her new born strength to hold back the over protective papa bear.

But Rosalie stared at her daughter, ignoring her husband and his antics whilst Y/n yelled to calm down . It only felt like yesterday when Emmet and her picked up their new born adoptive daughter, enamoured with her tiny hands and squishy rounded cheeks. Now a grown woman yelling at her dad to back off her unlabelled lover.

Rosalie yearned to turn back time to relive the glory days of having a baby, but just like human life, time is flashy by too quickly and she just wasn’t ready to let her baby go.

But she had to, this was her baby’s rite of passage.

Y/n, is Rosalie’s and Emmets grown-up daughter, and it’s time Rosalie finally accepts it.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Blossom. aka - Cherry, Part Four.

a night of conversations, kisses and long awaited confessions.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - cursing, kissing (but no real smut).

word count - 2.6k

authors note - the babies are back!! no smut in this one - it was getting too long. but don’t you worry… there’s gonna be so much smut in part five !! sorry for the cliffhanger. love u <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.

The smoke from the bonfire is stinging your eyes, ash sticking to the strands of your hair. Orange embers burn rapidly, dry wood being occasionally thrown on top by drunk boys with red cups in their hands.

The music is way too loud for a forest party, but no one seems to care. Someone’s haphazardly strung lights between the trees, creating a surprisingly cosy ambience. The atmosphere is alive, charged with the electricity of being out later than curfew.

“M’lady!”

You laugh, accepting the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you say as you curtsy sarcastically, making both of you laugh harder. “Hey, you didn’t bump into Steve on your way over here, did you? I haven’t seen him for like an hour.”

The curly haired boy kicks the toe of your sneaker with his.

“Saw him with that Clara girl, talking by the lake.”

You take a steadying breath, pretending it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

“You should go and check if he needs rescuing,” Eddie jokes. “God knows she can talk for hours without coming up for air.”

You smile at him, pulling at one of his curls.

“Good idea. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” he winks, pushing you in the right direction.

You saunter down towards the water, spotting your best friend instantly. He’s stood with his arms across his chest, weight on one hip as he tries to listen to whatever Clara has to say. The minute he sees you, his posture is straightening, lips quirking up at the corners.

Clara turns around to see what Steve is looking at, her face falling when she recognises you.

“Hi. I don’t mean to interrupt! Just wanted to check if you needed another drink, Stevie.”

The boy grins, beckoning you closer with a nod of his head. When you’re near enough, he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, all affectionate and tender.

Oh.

You don’t do that.

The two of you have kept your romance completely behind closed doors, up until now. It hasn’t got a name, never mind a label, and you don’t need people asking questions when you don’t even know the answers yourself.

You could blame it on the alcohol, but you know Steve’s on his first drink. With your head spinning, you look up at him as if he is the sun and all things warm. He looks down at you the exact same way.

“I’m gonna go see where my friends are,” Clara says a little too loudly, strutting away with as much confidence as she can muster.

You have a sudden feeling that you’re the villain in her story, but you’re not entirely sure why.

“How many drinks have you had?” Steve asks as he pulls a strand of hair away from your face.

“This is my second. I was nursing my first one, Eddie says.”

The boy laughs, and you grab onto his bicep for support. The sound of it is enough to buckle your knees.

“This is my first. It’s not doing much for me.”

“You want something different? I’m sure Robin has that beer you like in her bag.”

“Nah, I’m okay. Don’t think I’m gonna drink any more tonight.”

Steve slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans, pulling you in closer and keeping them there.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back.

And then he kisses you. Again. It’s slow and careful and so romantic that you think you might start crying about it.

“What time is it?” he asks when he pulls away as if nothing happened.

“Eleven thirty.”

“You wanna stay a bit longer?”

“Not if you don’t.”

Steve presses his lips to your forehead, hands cradling your cheeks.

“I kinda wanna go home.”

You smile at him, all soft and sweet.

“Then let’s go home. I’m getting a little cold, anyway. And I didn’t bring a jacket.”

“Will you ever learn?” he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“If it means I have to stop wearing your jackets that I know you bring to parties just for me? No, I won’t.”

You weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but the way Steve chuckles soothes the sting of the accidental wound.

“Let’s go home, Cherry Baby.”

Home. The assumption that the two of you will always be returning to the same place makes your heart so full, you wonder how it doesn’t spill over.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You good?”

“Feet hurt.”

This happens every single time the two of you go to a party, so you feel as if you’re reliving a memory.

“Hop on.”

“Steve-”

“Cherry. Come on. We’ll get home quicker this way.”

You can’t argue with that. Steve crouches as you jump onto his back, his hands wrapping around your thighs to keep you steady. You wrap your arms around his neck from behind, resting your head on top of his.

“Comfy back there?”

You hum, the noise of agreement enough for Steve to start walking.

The two of you chat each others ears off on the way home, talking about nothing and everything. You laugh so hard at something he says that you end up with a mouthful of his hair, which he in turn finds hilarious.

“Have you thought any more about what I said the other day?”

“You say a lot of things, Steven.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and giving your thighs a squeeze.

“About college.”

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve wonders if he’s chosen the wrong time to have this conversation.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s talk about it later, okay? When I’m not constantly worried I’m gonna accidentally trip and kill you.”

You nod, and he feels it. You know it needs to be a discussion sometime soon, but perhaps having it when you’re being carried down the street on your best friends back isn’t all that practical.

“Love you,” you mumble into the crook of Steve’s neck.

He shudders a little at your lips on his skin, leaning his head sideways to rest against yours.

“Love you, Cherry Pie. More than anything.”

You let Steve piggyback you all the way to his front door. Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you feel the need to.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve bumps his hip into yours as you both brush your teeth, laughing at your shocked reflection in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you place your toothbrush back in its holder, right next to his.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

You hop up on the bathroom counter, sitting up so you’re eye to eye with the boy in front of you. He takes a step forward, standing between your legs as he splays his cold hands over your thighs.

“Why’d you ask?”

You trace over his fingers where they rest on your skin, quiet for a moment.

“You seemed pretty eager to go home tonight. It’s unlike you. You love a party. Leaving at eleven thirty is like… unheard of, for King Steve.”

“King Steve would rather be at home with you than at a party with all those people.”

“Really?”

“Really. Clara was going on about something or other, the music was too loud, and I could feel the chill coming in. It hit me, all of a sudden, that I’d rather be in bed. Or, anywhere else, as long as I was with you.”

You lean forward to rest your head against his chest, sighing when he starts playing with your hair gently.

“You’re a softie,” you mumble into his shirt. “And a mind reader.”

“It’s my one talent,” he chuckles. “I wish reading your mind was a college major. I’d be the best in the world.”

You shake your head, laughing like you can’t help it.

“If I don’t move soon, I’m gonna fall asleep on this bathroom counter.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Contrary to popular belief,” you tease as you hop down, “my legs actually do work.”

Steve gasps, all theatrical and exaggerated, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Come on, sleepy girl. Let’s go to bed.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“We’re not talking about stuff.”

You whisper it into the darkness, the trees rustling outside Steve’s window serving as the only sound you can hear.

“Hmm?”

Your legs are tangled with his, tired head resting on the boys shoulder as your sides are pressed together. You’re both lying on your backs, staring at the ceiling.

“We keep saying we’ll talk about stuff, but we haven’t been. It’s not like us.”

“You mean, like, feelings?”

“Yeah.”

All that can be heard now is two sets of heaving lungs. Steve’s hand finds yours under the duvet, fingers intertwining.

“Is there something specific that’s bothering you?”

“Not bothering me as such. I just… I think the more we don’t talk, the more complicated things become.”

There’s silence for a moment, before Steve speaks.

“I’m scared, Cherry.”

The tone of his voice is paper thin and vulnerable, and you will yourself not to cry about it.

“Of what, Stevie?”

You squeeze his hand, tucking yourself further into his side until there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“Of… everything changing. You’re my best friend in the entire world, and I know that what we’ve been doing isn’t typical… best friend stuff. I just…” he takes a deep breath, exhaling carefully. “I worry that something will happen and we’ll break up, and I’ll lose you forever.”

His voice cracks on the last word, fear seeping through his pores. Yet, he continues.

“I’d die without you, Cherry. I really would. I don’t know what it’s like to live in a world where we’re not… us.”

You turn onto your side to face him in the dark, reaching up to cradle his cheek softly. You rest your forehead against his temple, pressing a kiss into his skin.

“I’m scared too. I have been ever since that first night in my room. Not because I don’t trust you, or because I don’t feel that way about you… but because I don’t want to lose you either. More than anything, I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why didn’t we talk about this sooner?” he laughs, throat thick with emotion.

“Because we’re us. And whether we talk or don’t talk, we know we’ll figure it out. We always know we’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” he whispers into the dark. “More than all the stars in the sky.”

“I love you,” you whisper back. “More than all the grains of sand on all the beaches in the world.”

You press another kiss into his temple, letting your lips linger on his soft skin. He smells so familiar, so warm, so yours… you can’t help but inhale, chuckling when he shudders.

You continue to leave kisses across his jaw, over his ear, down his neck. He tilts his head to give you better access, groaning when you nip at his throat with your teeth, licking over the scrape to soothe him.

Steve pulls you in as if you weigh nothing, moving you so you’re lying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his lap, as he does the same so you’re chest to chest. Running his hands under your shirt and over the bare skin of your back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You look so pretty like this,” he hums against your lips. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You wanna talk about pretty?” you tease, running your fingers through his hair. “My pretty, pretty boy.”

Steve’s hips buck up into yours, making you giggle.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I call you pretty? Or do you just like it when I call you mine?”

His hips buck again as his cheeks flush pink.

“I am yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been.”

You thought you had the upper hand for a minute, but now you just want to cry. You’re overwhelmed by the way you feel about the boy underneath you, unsure of how to process it without bursting into tears.

“All mine,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your fingertip.

Steve takes a deep breath, watching your eyes as they look over him again and again, taking him in as if it’s the first time. He decides it’s now or never.

“Cherry?”

“Stevie?”

Your voices are low and careful, irregardless of the fact that you’re alone in the house.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops, and so does the world outside. Everything pauses, the two of you suspended in this moment in time.

Steve takes another breath, exhaling it carefully before meeting your eyes and continuing.

“You don’t have to say it back. Now, or ever. I just - I needed you to know.”

You blink back tears as you watch his face, biting your lip to stop them from falling.

“Steve-”

“Hey, I told you. You don’t have to say anything, babe. I know-”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“Just-”

You surge forward and kiss him with all the affection you can muster, trying to express your feelings. You grip his hair, plastering your bodies together where you sit in his lap still. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in as close as he can.

“If you let me talk,” you say when you pull away, all breathless, “you’d hear that I have something I’d like to say.”

Steve smiles, humming in acknowledgment and encouraging you to keep going.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

The boy looks shocked to hear it, as if it’s news to him.

“What’s that face for?” you laugh.

“I just… I didn’t expect you to say it back.”

“Steve,” you chuckle, looking at him sternly. When you realise he’s being serious, you double down. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. When we were kids, and someone would say the word ‘husband’, I always pictured you. I was so convinced it was always going to end up being you and I.”

“Why… why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Why didn’t you?”

He laughs, and the sound makes you feel as if you’re on cloud nine. You can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed to yours, frantic like he’s just ran a marathon.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He leans up to kiss you, all saccharine and honey sweet.

“Say it again,” you whisper against his lips.

“I’m in love with you, Cherry.”

“Say it again.”

“I, Steve Harrington, declare that I am completely, utterly, ridiculously in love with this girl right here. I always have been. I always will be.”

You can’t help but throw your head back with laughter.

“And I love you. So much.”

The words you’ve always said mean so much more now. It’s a welcome change, one you never thought you’d see happen.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hmm?”

You lean in, nosing at his jaw as you murmur into his ear.

“Want you. So bad.”

“Fuck, honey,” he groans, all low and rough.

“Please. Want it to be you.”

Looking up at you with big eyes, he searches your face for any kind of hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

Smoothing his hair away from his face, you trace your thumb over his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “I’m about to rock your world, Cherry Blossom.”

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @clairesjointshurt @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss @ladyburberry @thenonweeknd @abarelyexistentbeing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @slut4gaga @hopelessromanticwriter @mgchaser @wintrsoldrluvr

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Little Bride

daemon x niece!reader smut

A/N: based on a request here! also i don't understand high valyrian conjugation so kepa just means father in every time it's used

TW: smut!!, incest, DUBCON, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, spanking, exhibitionism because of under the table shenanigans

word count: 1,563 words

You haven’t seen Daemon since you were seven years old and you’ve missed him deeply. Everyone says that he hates Alicent Hightower’s children but he always said you had the true blood of the dragon running in your veins. You were always his favourite but it’s been over a decade since his latest exile and you most definitely aren’t a little girl anymore.

“Zaldrīzes riña.” (dragon girl) You hear from behind you as you make your way to your chambers. Only one person calls you that.

“Kepus?” You say as you turn around and squeal when you lay eyes on him. You run down the hallway and throw your arms around his shoulders before blushing when you realize how unladylike your actions are. You slowly remove yourself from him. “Sorry.” You say timidly. He laughs.

“Don’t be. I don’t remember the last time someone was so thrilled to see me.” His eyes take in the sight of you but you don’t notice the predatory nature of his gaze. “You’ve grown, little girl.”

“That’s what happens when you are away for so long.” You say petulantly. He chuckles and looks over you. His eyes fixate on the swell of your breasts. He seems like he may say something when he’s interrupted.

“Should you not be preparing for supper, daughter?” The voice of the Queen rings out as she shoots the filthiest glare at your uncle. Your mother hates Daemon.

“Of course, your Grace.” You say and curtsey before running off, shooting your uncle a passing smile.

“I'll see you at supper then, zaldrīzes riña.” Daemon calls out after you. He looks to your mother. “Hello, Alicent. You’re looking well.” He says with a wolfish grin and makes himself busy with greeting another noble before the Queen can retort.

~~~

When you arrive to the family dinner that night, Daemon has saved a spot next to him for you, much to your mothers dismay. You take it eagerly.

“Glad to have you home, brother.” The King says as he raises his cup and you all follow in suit, toasting to Daemon’s return.

The room falls into steady conversation, steady enough for people to not notice when

Daemon whispers things in your ear that make you blush.

“This is a very pretty dress, niece.” He says as he plays with the collar of the gown. His hand begins to trail down it. “Very expensive fabric.” The roaming hand decides on its destination being your upper thigh.

“T-Thank you.” You say with a light smile as he turns his attention elsewhere, talking to your father about things that you don’t understand.

After a few moments, the hand on your thigh begins to move. You sigh in relief, hoping he will take it off and relieve you of the warm feeling in your tummy but that isn’t what happens. Your uncle’s hand moves discreetly to the hem of your skirts, and to your dismay, he begins to lift them. You give him a pleading and confused look, not really sure what’s happening but he doesn’t even look at you as he seems to be fully focused on his conversation with your father.

You take a sip of wine, trying to distract yourself, but it only causes you to choke as you feel his fingers ghost over your smallclothes.

“Are you alright?” Daemon says in a faux-concerned tone as you cough. You only manage to nod in response before he goes back to ignoring you.

He slips his fingers to the side of your undergarments and pushes them to the side so he can feel how wet you are. You could swear you see a slight smile twinge at his lips. You try not to look at him, or anybody, as you feel his two fingers slip inside of you. You hope you don’t give anything away with your face as you reach down to clutch his hand, trying to pull it away, to make him stop, but it’s to no avail. Your attempts are almost pathetic with how little they do to faze him.

The whole scene of it is filthy, Daemon talking politics with his brother as his fingers pump in and out of his virgin niece’s soaked cunny right next to him, her father right across the table from the two of them. One look at the princesses face could have them both found out as she tries not to squirm in her seat.

You feel yourself edging closer to your peak but it never comes. You’re humiliated by the whole act of it but you feel needy for him when he pulls his hand away. You hold in a visible reaction even though it seems that Daemon wouldn’t know the difference as he acts like he never even touched you.

For the rest of dinner, you’re unfocused. Aemond tries to make conversation with you but you can’t do much more than nod and give short answers. You’re very much in disbelief that you hardly realize when supper has ended. Your brothers and sister leave quickly. Your mother left early with your father because of his sickness. You’re left alone with your dear uncle and some servants.

“Leave us.” Daemon says and the servants scurry out of the room.

Your uncle stalks over to you and you keep inching away until you hit the table. He towers over you. You still feel like a child next to him.

“Kepus.” You try to speak sternly. “What you did was wrong and you shall not do anything like it again.”

“If it was wrong then why did you like it so much?” He looks you in the eyes as he grabs your chin and tilts it up.

“It was terribly improper.”

“Hmm. I think you liked the attention. Daddy never gives you any, does he? And mommy is too focused on her problem child.” He says condescendingly.

The hand that doesn’t hold your chin goes to your waist. He traces up and down… the curve of your hips… of your breasts.

“I’m a princess. I get more than enough attention.” You say petulantly but your voice wavers.

“Then why haven’t you pushed me off?” He asks and you immediately try to push him away… pathetically. It’s little effort for him to turn you around and bend you over the table with your hands pinned behind you. “Dumb girl. Look at your trying to put up a fight. It’s not nice to deny kepa.” Kepa, he says, not kepus.

“Get off of me!” You try to squirm under his grasp.

“What happened to the girl a few hours ago who was so excited to see me?” He teases as he begins to use one hand to hike up your skirts.

“Kepa-... kepus, stop now!” You cringe when you call him the name he just referred to himself as.

“Aww so you like calling me that. You want daddy to take care of you.” He gets your skirts to your waist and you feel the cold air when he tugs your smallclothes.

“No, kepusss.” You whine at him and squeal when his hand slaps your ass.

“That’s not what you’re meant to call me, baby. And you need to be quiet, don’t want the guards outside to hear when i’m pounding the little princesses cunny, do we?”

“But… kepa i-i’m meant to save myself for my husband.” You say when you feel something long and hard rubbing between your thighs. His hand snakes around and he shoves two fingers in your mouth.

“Good, then i’ll get to bloody my cock with your maidenhead.” He says simply before shoving himself inside, the fingers in your mouth barely muting your scream. “That’s it, just take it and suck on kepa’s fingers like a little baby.” He says as he keeps bullying his cock inside of you. “Gods, you’re so fucking tight.” He lays another smack on your ass. “I’m gonna put a baby in you, make you mine.”

“Mmm.” You moan around his fingers, starting to realize that you enjoy the treatment once the pain has somewhat faded. He fucks into you as hard as he can, making you see stars.

“I’ll make you my wife and i’ll eat this little cunny every night, have you screaming and begging for me as you cry.” His hands grip your hips roughly and you can feel the formation of bruises coming on. He lets go only for a second so he can spank your ass a few more times because he just loves how you whimper.

You feel him finally start to slow and the deep, lasting thrusts are what sends you over the edge. You have never came so hard as you squeeze around him and feel yourself tense up. He fucks you through your high before spilling his seed deep inside you.

“Fuck.” He says as he takes his fingers out of your mouth.

You still feel molded to the shape of his cock even once he’s pulled himself out.

He wipes your drool away in an almost loving way and then helps you turn around so you can sit on the table. He situates himself between your thighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You did so well, zaldrīzes riña.” He presses a few more kisses to your face and you blush at the tender action. “You’ll make a perfect bride.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

[harksness]

Distraction

A/N: i suffer from severe agatha harkness brainrot 24 hrs a day 7 days a week. i also couldnt help but make this one a little sweet too ajsadkgj im so down bad for her

the request!

Warnings: hand kink, quickie, slight mommy kink bcs im a hoe who can't write smut with agatha without working that in at least a little bit. lmk if i missed any warnings as per usual <3

WC: 3.5k

You find every little thing about Agatha to be insanely attractive. How could you not? She’s absolutely perfect. Her smooth, sultry voice and calculated words. Her pretty blue eyes that always seem to have that mischievous glint to them. Her tempting pink lips that are almost always quirked into that evil little smirk of hers. And oh God her hair, her wild hair you could play with for hours. 

She's ethereal. Agatha Harkness is the definition of beauty and all of its synonyms. Alluring, lovely, heavenly, ravishing, irresistible, beauteous, divine, bewitching and as ravishing as they come. Something pulled right out of your dreams, or some grand work of art.

But something about her hands just stuck out to you. They drove you crazy.

Her long, nimble fingers.. Watching how deftly they work her magic, the fluid movements she makes with them always has you biting your lip and wondering if she’d repeat those same movements elsewhere. 

As if you didn’t have a hard enough time keeping your eyes off of her hands, all of those pretty rings she found recently aren’t helping. They draw more of your attention to how skilled she is with her long digits, the soft silver, the pretty jewels and carvings into the metal always catching your attention. The problem is that once that happens, you just can’t seem to get your attention off of them.

You clear your throat, catching yourself staring at her hands… Again. Reluctantly, you refocus your attention back to the meeting at hand as you quickly cast your gaze over all of the people sitting around you, Agatha’s voice background noise.

Your lover finds your gaze as she’s speaking to the group, sending a quick wink your way.

Immediately you feel your cheeks flushing when you realize that’s her way of telling you that you’ve been caught red handed. Billy, of course, catches on right away with a little gasp as he raises his hand into the air, a sly grin overtaking his features as he interrupts Agatha.

“Can you two stop flirting with each other for five minutes? It’s so distracting for the rest of the class.”

You pinch your lips together at his words. Ever since you two became a thing and he figured out about your relationship, he’s really taken to the two of you as his “gay aunties”, loving to tease you every chance he gets about your sappy romance.

There’s a few beats of dead silence in the room as everyone waits for Agatha to say something.

“What are you talking about?”

She’s so obviously just trying to mess with the younger wiccan.

But still, even knowing this you try so hard not to smack your hand to your forehead at her response. She’s had over three hundred years to master the art of snappy comebacks and witty one liners, her charisma is off the charts. You’d personally say she’s more skilled with how she uses her words in conversation than magic itself, it’s one of her greatest weapons.. But that’s what she decided to say?

“Really.”

Billy says, less of a question and more of a statement. You release a big sigh, and you can feel Rio rolling her eyes from the spot next to you.

“I mean.. Of course I can’t go five minutes without flirting with my girl.. Have you seen how gorgeous she is? How impossibly perfect?”

Agatha says, gesturing towards you dramatically. You’re surprised that you haven’t passed out from the amount of blood rushing to your cheeks, a bashful smile crossing your lips at how outspoken and dorky she is. 

“Eugh! You two are too cute.. I need to go vomit…”

Billy is smiling regardless of his teasing.

“Oh! Absolutely feel free to do so! Meet back here in ten minutes!”

Agatha claps her hands together excitedly, a puzzled look crossing the boy's features.

“I was only joking..”

No one seems to pay any attention to the words he mumbled under his breath. Agatha was just so eager to take him up on the offer.

She’s being so dramatic with her hands- waving them around and gesturing so much more than usual. Not many other people would notice, considering how dramatic Agatha just is as a person, but you do.

Rio rolls her eyes at you, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“You two are worse than lovesick teenagers.. Disgusting.”

You smile softly, watching Agatha shoot you a look before she leaves the room, her gaze lingering against yours as she quirks an eyebrow at you suggestively. Slowly she presses down on the door handle and pushes it open, the door swinging closed behind her a moment later with a soft click.

“I know, it’s so disgusting…”

You’re barely paying attention as you get up to follow your witch. You cross the room, winding between the fold out chairs and the women stretching and mulling about as they take advantage of their free time. Pushing the door open, you scan the room quickly before finding her leaning on a wall across from you.

“Sooo…”

She starts as you approach, holding her hands out in front of herself, as if examining her nails. You cross your arms over your chest, pouting slightly at her incessant teasing.

“Someone seems to be fixating on my hands..”

Agatha holds them up, palms facing her as she wiggles her ringed fingers at you, and wiggling her eyebrows to match. You roll your eyes playfully.

“No..”

You simply say, once again as you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment. She lets out a disappointed hum.

“Shame. Because if you were.. I was going to suggest that we go into the back room and take your mind off of my hands for a little bit.. And put my hands on something else…”

Agatha implies suggestively, your eyebrows shoot up and your eyes widen at her suggestion.

“With everyone in the next room?!”

You hiss at her in surprise, terrified that someone was going to walk in on your conversation, let alone catch the two of you in the act. She shrugs, indifferent.

“Two rooms over.”

You watch for a moment as she slowly saunters over to the next door, leaning against it with her back to push it open and hold it ajar for a moment. She raises her wrist, shrugging down her sleeve to check her watch as two strands of her curly brown hair fall over her features, blue eyes lidded as she looks down.

“Eight minutes..”

She trails off suggestively, and that’s all you need to remind yourself this isn’t a daydream as you run after her, following her into the dingy little storage room.

The door falls shut. It’s dark, and you’re about to start groping around for a light when suddenly a warm orange glow fills the room with a little click as Agatha pulls on the string hanging from the lightbulb on the ceiling. 

The room is filled with random boxes and equipment piled up and leaning on the walls, and conveniently- a worn, plush, yellow chair that used to sit out in the main room. You raise an eyebrow at Agatha as she plops herself into it, leaning back and spreading her legs as she leans one arm on the armrest, the other coming up to her mouth as she bites one of her gaudy rings.

Her hair is piled on top of her head, two strings of hair hanging in her face. Her coat is unbuttoned and fanning to the sides as the purple fabric of her nice dress pants stretch around her soft thighs perfectly.

She’s smirking around the ring she’s biting, eyebrow quirked curiously as she gazes up at you with her mischievous blue eyes. Agatha pats her thigh invitingly.

“Come have a seat, baby.”

You could’ve melted into the ground right then and there.

You’re sure you look a lot less put together and sexy as she does as you basically scramble to jump into her lap, your knees sinking into the plush cushion of the chair as you straddle her thighs. She smiles warmly up at you, humming happily as a hand comes up to rest on your waist.

“Good girl..”

Agatha praises, looking up to meet your gaze as she trails a hand up your waist lovingly. Her other hand comes up to stroke at your thigh, sliding slightly up under the hem of your skirt. Your breath hitches in your throat.

She raises the hand from your waist, fingers curling around the back of your neck as her thumb caresses your cheek… The cold of her rings digging into your skin. You lean into the feeling.

“C’mere..”

Agatha speaks softly as she pulls you down to meet her lips, your eyes fluttering closed as her soft lips move against yours. You hum into the kiss, raising your hands to rest on her shoulders.

She runs her hand further up your skirt, her soft skin smoothing over your hips and across your ass as she squeezes the plush skin lovingly. Your hands caress the exposed skin of her neck, toying with the loose hairs hanging from her bun.

Her warm hands run along the line of your lacy underwear, tracing back up over your hips, then down between your legs. Your breath hitches, breaking the kiss as a soft, breathy moan escapes your lips when her fingers trail downwards and start to grind her fingers up against your center. Gently she presses her fingers up against you, and you rock against her, little sighs of pleasure falling past your lips. Agatha’s eyes are lidded, but fixated on your features, her gaze flickering to your lips and her smile quirking upwards just the littlest bit every time you let out a desperate noise. 

“You make the prettiest noises, angel..”

Agatha whispers against your skin as she starts to leave lingering kisses along the exposed skin of your neck. You raise your hand to cradle the back of her head as she presses her fingers into you more firmly, your hips rolling against her hand desperately as you toy with her hair.

“Mmm.. Ag’s, please.”

You plead into her hair, all you can focus on is the sparks of pleasure you’re receiving, just enough to keep working you up but not get you anywhere. Your features twist in frustration.

“What’s wrong baby, is this not enough?”

Leaning back, you notice the taunting smirk etched onto her lips. You narrow your eyes at her, unable to help the little pout that overtakes you.

“Please.. We don’t have a lot of time..”

Agatha hums in thought, moving her hand that was cradling your neck to wrap around your jaw. The metal of her rings have heated against your skin, and it feels good to have them bite into your cheek just a little bit as you press back against her hand.

“Oh, sweet pea, I know you can do better than that.”

She quirks an expectant brow at you and you know what you have to do.

“Please… Agatha I- I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and how good you are with your hands... I’m so desperate for it.. Mommy, please, I need you..”

You do your best to pour your heart out, knowing you sound like a scrambling mess, but also knowing Agatha loves it when you sound that way. When you're desperate and keening for her, and she always melts when you call her Mommy. You know her weakness just like she knows yours.

You were right because you can feel the air around her shift a little bit, her lips hanging open and blue eyes clouded with desire as she looks up at you.

“Such a good girl, baby..”

Agatha says lowly, crashing her lips onto yours one more time in a desperate, frantic kiss before she pulls back, splaying her fingers out as she makes a show of taking off her rings. Your eyes drop to her hands.

She pinches her fingers around one, twisting it to the side as she slowly drags it off of her long fingers before setting it on the armrest to her right. She repeats the action over and over, until a little line of rings is forming.

Once she has her dominant hand free of rings except for one, you grab her wrist shyly.

“Here.. Let me help..”

Agatha gazes up at you curiously as she waits to see what you’re going to do.

You carefully bend her fingers so that they’re all curling in towards her palm, her pointer finger the only one sticking out. You raise her hand to your mouth, biting down softly onto the chunky metal ring pressed down to her knuckle, and using your teeth, you slowly pull it off of her finger, dragging your tongue along her soft skin as you do.

She watches you intently, eyes locked onto your movements. When it’s off of her finger, you raise your head and take it from your mouth, placing it with her other rings, completing the little line. Agatha’s staring up at you with parted lips and a wide smile.

“Well, that was insanely hot..”

She says breathlessly before pulling you down to kiss her again, your lips melding as you moan into her mouth. You don’t think you could ever get tired of how good her smooth, warm mouth feels against your own as she claims you, quickly taking control of the kiss. You also don’t think you could ever get sick of her taking what she wants from you, because you’ll gladly give her anything and everything you can.

Agatha’s hand starts to travel up the plush inside of your thigh, running her fingers over your skin lovingly as she reaches your center once again. Pulling your underwear aside, you gasp against her lips as she runs her fingers through your wet folds, softly parting you and gathering your arousal on her fingertips before finding your clit.

“Oh my poor girl.. You really were so worked up just from looking at my hands and imagining what I could do to you with them, hm?”

She asks you with such a cocky grin on her face. You moan softly, desperately as she toys with you, experimentally drawing patterns over your clit before dragging her fingers back to your soaked entrance.

“Ohhh, oh yes…”

You let out a long moan as she gently, carefully eases one finger into you. She’s smirking up at you, leaning down to press sweet, wet kisses into your neck as she starts to move, experimentally, getting you used to her touches before she can really fuck you.

“I’ve really got a hold on you, don’t I?”

She speaks against your skin, shifting forward a bit as she carefully slips another finger into you, and you moan at the stretch. She curls them with every thrust, the pads of her long fingers brushing against your sweet spot with precision. You brace yourself, mouth falling open in a silent moan as you curl your fingers around the top of the chair, gripping it tightly as you begin to feel your orgasm building, tension winding in your abdomen.

“Haa.. Oh, yes, Ag’s.. You do, more than you know.. You’re my everything..”

You pant out desperately, the rough fabric of the old chair scratching your knees but you don’t care. Being the center of Agatha’s attention, being touched by her like this, is the most important thing in your world. It’s all you want and you’ll savor every moment of it. Rugburn can be a future you problem, and you won’t regret it one bit. You know you’ll smile at your scraped up knees when the injuries remind you of how you got them.

“Am I now?”

She has that taunting tone to her voice that you fear but also adore so much at the same time. You hum in agreement, nodding your head in affirmation as your eyes pinch shut, an overwhelming amount of pleasure starting to make you slip and lose control of your senses as she keeps working at your center.

“Oh- Shit!”

You gasp out a bit louder than intended, throwing your head back when you feel the familiar sensation on your clit- her magic pressing into your sensitive nub has you digging your teeth into your bottom lip hard.

“Please, baby.. Tell me more about how much you adore me..”

She ghosts her lips against your ear, working her fingers faster, lingering her thrusts so that they can curl against that sensitive spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You don’t know how much longer you’re going to last, you can feel your legs beginning to tremble. Agatha raises a hand under your skirt so that she can fondly caress your hip, her fingers savoring the soft feeling of your skin under her hand. You love her warm hand pressed against you, and the metal of her rings against your skin.

You’re letting out short and desperate moans of pleasure as you attempt to speak. You try to form a coherent sentence, but fail.

“You’re everything to me, Agatha… God.. Oh my God, you’re so perfect.. So beautiful… So, so good to me..”

You mumble out, your thighs tensing as you desperately try to focus your attention on keeping your balance. You can’t help it, all of the stimulation is so much, you can feel yourself tumbling towards the edge as you lean against the back of the chair. Agatha plants her lips against your neck, her free hand running over every inch of exposed skin she can reach as she speeds up her movements, your hips rocking intime with every thrust of her long fingers deep into your waiting cunt. 

“Haa.. Oh, Agatha… You take such good care of me.. Ag’s.. Love you so much..”

She laughs softly against your skin, her tone laced with so much fondness and adoration.

“You can’t even form coherent sentences… I love seeing you like this.. My girl, so desperate for me and anything I’ll give… I love seeing you so wrapped around my finger..”

Agatha leans back to watch you as you become overwhelmed with the pleasure she’s giving you, to enjoy the mess she’s made of you as you desperately paw for her. You whimper out as you nod your head, feeling the pressure on your clit intensify. Your lips for a wide o, your movements becoming frantic as you rock against her hand, but her movements remain controlled and steady to guide you through your high.

“Yes! Yes I am! Yes, anything.. Anything, Ag’s..”

You babble mindlessly, your nails digging painfully hard into the soft fabric of the chair, nearly biting into the wood underneath.

“Oh! Cumming! Oooh..”

You moan out, your movements sloppy against her hand as you feel electric pleasure shoot through you. You tense up, your thighs trying to clamp shut but finding themselves unable to, so instead they just violently tremble as Agatha guides you through your orgasm, peppering sweet kisses up and down your neck, an arm wrapping around your waist to support you and a smile toying on her lips as she talks you through..

“Such a good girl for me, baby… Oh, you’re so pretty when you cum.. I could never get sick of seeing you like this.. So pretty..”

You let out a pathetic hum as you collapse and melt into her lap, your body limp and exhausted as you relax. Agatha guides you to lay against her chest as she slips her fingers out of you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you as close to her as possible. 

“Oh, sweet girl.. You did so good for me..”

She speaks into your hair, leaving little kisses along your head as she guides you to lay against her chest. You smile, burying your face into her neck, trying to take in as much of her as you can.

“Mmmm.. You also did so good for me..”

You cast her a knowing look and she grins in response.

“Happy to be of service.”

You’re desperately trying to catch your breath as Agatha lovingly runs her hands along your body, petting your hair into place, giving you little kisses wherever she can reach to help you calm down and catch your breath. You’re mushy, overflowing with love for the older woman as you wrap your arms around her middle and bury your face into her neck.

Suddenly there's an insistent knocking on the wooden door.

“Okay, lovebirds… Or horndogs.. We’ve been waiting on you two for twenty minutes. Make yourself decent and come on out.”

Rio’s familiar voice calls from the other side of the door, agitation lacing every word.. You groan out, embarrassed as Agatha laughs.

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

NIGHT OUT (M)

★ PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 3k

★ GENRE(S): smut

☆ SUMMARY: One night out with the girls couldn't hurt. Right?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: alcohol, unprotected sex, spanking, degradation, smut, mature, MDNI

☆★ NOTES: Based of this tiktok. Thanks to everyone who voted on Jaemin during the poll! I just wanted to write something quick while i worked on another WIP.

────୨ৎ────

“Girl, come on! We haven’t seen you in so long!” your friend pleads from the other end of the line.

“I know, but it’s already late, and you know how Jaemin gets about me going out without him,” you reply, glancing at the time and feeling the weight of exhaustion tugging at your eyelids.

You’re sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, with an old movie playing faintly in the background when your friend’s call interrupts your quiet evening. It feels like ages since you’ve had a night out with just the girls. After a rough encounter with a sleazy guy at a bar—once—Jaemin has refused to let you step out alone ever since.

“There’s nothing to worry about! You’ll be with us. Nothing is going to happen. He just worries too much,” she reassures you.

“I mean, yeah… but still, I don’t want to deal with him fussing over it,” you say, rolling your eyes in frustration.

“Well, he doesn’t have to know! It’s been ages since we’ve had a girls’ night,” she insists, her excitement palpable.

She has a point. You ponder it for a brief moment, weighing your options. “Fine, but I’m not trying to be out all night,” you concede, a reluctant smile creeping onto your face as you imagine the laughter and fun you’ve been missing.

────୨ৎ────

Your friends all arrive and start pregaming at your house while you finish getting ready. Sitting at your vanity, you apply the final touches to your makeup.

“We are going to have so much fun tonight!” Mia exclaims, a wide grin on her face.

“Do you really think it will be okay?” you start to feel a twinge of worry.

“Uh-uh! Stop thinking about him,” Chae interjects, unexpectedly shoving a drink into your hand. “You need to relax and have fun—just drink this!”

You take the shot in one smooth motion, and before you know it, another one has found its way into your grasp. By the time the Uber arrives at your place, you’re already feeling a pleasant buzz, and thoughts of Jaemin have drifted away.

You realize how much you’ve missed nights out with your girls. You pile into the back of the Uber, your thighs sticking to the leather seats of the car in your short dresses as laughter fills the air. Camera flashes erupt as you snap selfies, capturing the joy of the moment. Once you arrive at the club, you finish off Liz's flask, the alcohol warming you further, and soon you’re stumbling and giggling as you make your way inside.

As you step inside the club, the bass thumps like a heartbeat, reverberating through your body and igniting a surge of exhilaration. The lights flash in vibrant colors, creating a pulsing atmosphere that feels electric. The air is thick with a mix of perfume, sweat, and excitement; it’s intoxicating. You can hardly keep your feet on the ground as the music wraps around you, urging your body to sway and move. The heat from the packed dance floor envelops you, making your cheeks flush and your skin prickle with anticipation.

You lose yourself in the rhythm, laughing and dancing with your friends. Each beat sends shivers down your spine, and you feel alive, as if the worries of the day have been stripped away. You spin and twirl, your hair flying around you as everyone is lost in their own little world.

After an hour of dancing, Liz gestures towards the bar, and your group eagerly follows her lead, ready to replenish your drinks and fuel your night. The bar is bustling, with people ordering shots and cocktails, laughter echoing as drink orders are called out. Neon lights illuminate the area, and you spot a bartender skillfully shaking drinks, tossing bottles in the air like they’re mere toys.

As you line up behind Liz at the bar, Chae is busy scrolling through her phone, her fingers flicking over the screen. Suddenly, you gasp, your heart racing for a different reason.

“What?” Chae looks up at you, concern etched on her face.

“Jaemin texted meee!” you squeal, anxiety coiling in your stomach. “He’s asking what I’m doing. What do I sayyyy?”

Liz turns around, her expression shifting to one of playful indifference as she waves her hand dismissively. “Girl, just lie,” she rolls her eyes, clearly unfazed by the drama of texting your boyfriend while out.

You pause, biting your lip. Your fingers hovering over your keyboard as you contemplate what to say.

[10:23] what r u doing

[11:45] watching a movie whats up?

You’re about to tuck your phone back into your purse when it suddenly dings again.

[11:46] are you gonna be up? can I call?

Your stomach drops, and you feel a wave of panic wash over you. “Guys, he wants to call me,” you glance nervously at your phone.

“Girl, give me the phone!” Mia snatches it from your hands and types something quickly before handing it back.

[11:47] nah im about 2 go 2 sleep ttyl!

“MIA!” you yell, a mixture of frustration and disbelief in your voice.

“WHAT?!” she rolls her eyes.

“I don’t text like that! He’s going to know something’s up!” you groan, the last thing you wanted tonight was to get into it with him.

Looking back at your phone, you see you’ve been left on read. “Just ignore him,” Liz says, handing you a shot. “Drinks are here!” You force a smile, trying to shake off the anxiety while your mind races with thoughts of what he might be thinking.

You throw back another shot. Screw it, you’re already out; you might as well get turnt up and deal with Jaemin tomorrow. You make your way back to the dance floor, determined to forget about him for the night. Mia and Liz dance together, while you dance with Chae. You belt out the lyrics to the song, hyping each other up, and before you know it, you’re not even trying to push thoughts of Jaemin away—they’ve completely slipped your mind.

After a while, Chae motions to you, leaning down to shout above the music. “I need to use the bathroom!” she yells.

“Okay, I’ll go with you!” you reply, waving at Liz and Mia to catch their attention. You mouth "bathroom,” and they nod in understanding, giving you the thumbs up as you weave through the crowd. Following Chae into the stall, you pull out your phone and check for messages as she takes care of business.

[12:00] Baby, are you alright?

[12:30] Wya?

You groan, and Chae looks up at you as she flushes the toilet. You exit the stall and set your phone down to wash your hands, Chae doing the same beside you.

“He’s texting again?” she asks with a teasing smile.

You dry your hands, grabbing your phone as you think about how to respond on your way out of the bathroom.

“Yeah,” you manage to say, letting the words hang in the air as you step back out onto the loud dance floor. You bump into a few people, too distracted by your phone screen to pay attention to where you’re going as you try to formulate a response.

[12:40] I’m at home, about to lay down though. Im really tired gn.

You hesitate hitting send, wondering if you’re being too dismissive or if he’ll just worry more. But you’re too overwhelmed to care right now—after all, the music is pulsing, and the night is still young.

You hit send, and the message is instantly marked as read. You see the three dots appear, indicating that he’s typing.

…

Pause

…

[12:41] Turn around.

You suck in a breath and freeze. Your friends notice your sudden stillness, concern flickering across their faces as their eyes trail up behind you, mouths dropping open in surprise.

“Go, go, go!” Liz yells at Mia and Chae, pushing them through the crowd to give you some space, leaving you to face Jaemin alone.

You brace yourself and turn around slowly. Just as you suspected, Jaemin stands towering over you in the packed club. “Heeyy,” you coo, attempting to lighten the tension.

He doesn’t look amused. In fact, he looks like he just rolled out of bed, tousled hair and all.

“I thought you were at the house?” he asks, tilting his head with heavy sarcasm.

“Damn, I forgot… I forgot I was at the club and not at home,” you say with a nervous smile, trying to play it off.

“So you think this is a game?” He nods his head, and a humorless laugh escapes his lips. "That's fine but go say bye to your little friends.”

You curse under your breath and turn away from him. Spotting Mia, Chae, and Liz watching the encounter from a few feet away, you push through the crowd, ready to let them have it.

“This is all your fault!” You swat at them, frustration bubbling over.

“Ow!” Mia cries as you slap her arm, feigning injury. Chae and Liz are laughing as you hit them next.

“Your ass is grass next time I see y’all,” you glare at them, eyes narrowing as you try to hold back laughter despite the absurdity of the situation.

With one last look at your friends, you turn back toward Jaemin, who’s still standing in the same spot, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face.

As you approach, he leans down slightly so only you can hear, his voice low, “Just wait until we get home.”

A shiver runs down your spine, equal parts excitement and dread. You frown but nod your head, knowing you were going to be in so much trouble. Jaemin pulls you along until you're outside, opening the passenger side door for you. Once you’re settled inside, he reaches over and buckles you in, a gesture that feels oddly affectionate amidst the tension. He shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s side, the silence stretching between you as he grips the steering wheel tightly. You can see his knuckles turning white, a clear indication that he’s still upset.

The ride home is uneventful, your mind racing with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. You finally arrive at your apartment, and before you can say anything, he gets out and slams the car door shut. He strides over to your side and opens the door, grabbing your purse as he helps you out.

“Jaem, we just wanted a girls' night out! I’m sorry; don’t be mad,” you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible as you follow him up the steps to your apartment.

He doesn’t respond, and you roll your eyes, watching him dig in the bottom of your bag for your keys. He finds them and unlocks the door with a swift motion.

You step inside, almost relieved to be back in the familiarity of your home. But just as you’re about to take off your heels, he stops you with a firm tone. “Nuh uh, heels stay on, baby. Bedroom. Now.”

“But I said I’m sorry,” you whine, knowing full well what that tone means. You’re not sure if you’re ready for whatever punishment he has in store.

“Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?” He replies, his voice low and serious.

Feeling a rush of apprehension, you straighten up and tread towards the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as you wait for him. You can hear him close the door behind him before he stands between your legs, towering over you. You look up at him, giving your best puppy dog eyes, hoping to soften his mood a little.

Jaemin’s expression is still firm. “You think that’s gonna work on me?” he asks, lowering his voice even further. He grips your cheeks and holds your gaze. “You know liars get punished, right?” he asks and you nod your head.

“Do you deserve to get punished tonight?” He watches you and you nod your head again, your eyes beginning to water under the weight of his words.

“Don’t start crying now, baby. I haven’t even touched you yet,” he says, his tone laced with a mix of teasing and seriousness as he leans down to kiss the tears that have stained your cheeks.

He releases your face, pulling you to your feet before taking your place on the bed. “Bend over,” he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Your heart races as you comply, laying across his lap with your short dress riding up to expose your bare bottom. It’s just a thong underneath, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“When I asked you where you were, what did you say?” He asks, punctuating his words with a sharp slap to your ass.

“Home,” you sniffle, the sting of his hand making you wince.

“Where were you instead?” He smacks the other cheek, the sharpness sending a rush of heat coursing through you.

“At the club,” you whimper, the reality of the situation hitting you hard.

“Why don’t I like you going alone?” He asks, his voice steady but firm, leaving you to ponder your previous choices.

“But I wasn’t alone, my fri—” you start to explain, but he interrupts you with a quick series of three sharp smacks against your ass, each one leaving a burning sensation that contrasts with the fluttering excitement in your stomach.

“Don’t fucking talk back,” he growls, pulling your hair back gently but firmly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. “Do I need to put that mouth to better use? Huh?”

“No, Nana,” you manage to reply, the nickname slipping out instinctively, a soft plea.

“That’s what I thought. Now answer my question,” he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

“Because it’s dangerous to go alone,” you respond quickly.

“Now count,” he instructs

He strikes you twenty times, ten on each cheek. He soothes your skin between hits, a stark contrast to the sharp sting. You count every single one.

“That’s my good girl. You knew better than that, yeah?” he says, his voice dripping with approval.

“Yes, sir,” you nod.

Once he’s satisfied, he helps you to your feet and instructs you to get in the bed. You sit awkwardly, the fabric of the sheets tangling with your heels, but you comply without hesitation. Jaemin remains at the foot of the bed, and you can’t help but watch as he strips himself down. Your breath catches in your throat as he strokes himself, his other hand gliding down his chest. You feel an intense desire to reach out, to bite into the skin of his pecs and to mark him as yours.

“Please, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise,” you plead, your voice soft, desperation lacing your words. You knew he wasn’t done punishing you.

“Turn over, hands behind your back,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

You pout at the prospect of him taking you from behind. You loved watching him fuck you; you loved the intimacy of Missonary even though you loved the fact you could feel him in your guts when he hit it from the back. Even so, you do as you are told and you feel the mattress dip from his weight. Once he gets his hands on you, he's unzipping your dress and pulling it off. He undresses you until your just in your thong and high heels. His eyes rake over your body before he lets out a needy groan. He pulls your thong to the side and lines himself up with your entrance before he pushes in. You moan at the stretch and he uses one hand to hold your hands behind your back as the other tangles in your hair. Your makeup is sure to have smeared against the sheets as he pushes your head into the mattress as he fucks you.

“Do you know what happens when you misbehave?” He asks you. “You get fucked like a slut”

His hips drive into you again and again. He was deep and you loved every second of it. The way his hips slammed into you had your eyes rolling and thighs clenching. When you try to close your legs, he uses his knee to kick them back open. You wanted to touch him or atleast dig your fingers into the covers to hold on to something as he fucks some sense into you. You could feel how upset he was; he hated arguing and yelling; he was the type to fuck and make up; take out any frustrations on your greedy cunt and talk after.

You loved it

He lets go of your arms and pushes your back down into a deeper arc and you can finally grip the sheets. You could feel your thighs tremble and each time they slipped down the mattress or your legs threatened to give out, Jaemin was gripping your hips and pulling you up again to meet his thrusts.

His grunts turn to moans and they grow in pitch and you can tell he's at his limit. Usually at times like this he would slow down his pace to last longer or rub your clit to get you there but today you were his to use.

“Bad girls don't get to cum,” he says breathlessly.

After a few more deep thrusts, he's pulling out of you and coming all over your back. You look over your shoulder at him, makeup smeared and cheeks tear-stained. He coos and laughs at you as he leans down to kiss your lips.

“Stay right here; I'll be right back,” he says before leaving another kiss against your cheek.

He steps into the bathroom and emerges with a warm wet towel. As he gently cleans you up and removes your makeup with soft wipes, he works deftly to slip off the high heels that have been pinching your feet. Once he’s finished, he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around you as you nestle against him. He starts to play with your fingers,

“I didn’t mean to lie to you. You know I would never hurt you, right?” you say, searching his eyes for a sign that he understands the gravity of your words. Your heart races, hoping he can see just how honest you’re being.

“Well, let’s talk about it in the morning, okay, baby?” He replies, his voice warm and soothing.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too,” he responds.

As his embrace fosters a sense of safety, your worries begin to melt away. Your eyelids grow heavy, and you find comfort in the rhythm of his breathing before drifting into sleep.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Where to Run

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @deansobssessedgirl

Synopsis: you’re on the run from the British Men of Letters, and you meet your big brothers for the first time.

Entering the United States unnoticed had gone better than you thought it would. As soon as you got through passport control, you dug into your backpack—the only luggage you had brought with you, and it contained all you owned—and pulled out two pieces of paper. You considered them both for a long moment—one, an over a decade-old letter with the name of a small city in black ink in the middle of it, and the other a list of cities, one circled in red.

The list would take you to a nearby Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, and the letter…

The letter might just lead you to your father.

…

“And you’re sure we haven’t already been to this one?” Sam asked his big brother as they pulled up to a storage facility.

“Of course I’m sure. I would’ve remembered one so close to Lawrence,” Dean said.

“What do you think dad kept in here?” Sam questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him as Dean led the way to the right storage room.

“Who knows?” Dean shrugged. “Let’s just hope one of these works.” He jangled a small set of keys on a ring that John had left in the car—they contained a spare key for the Impala as well as John’s old truck, and several storage facility keys. Dean had thought that he and Sammy had been to all of John’s secret storage places, but after scanning John’s journal for the hundredth time, he caught sight of an address scratched in the corner of a page with a storage number.

“It’s this one,” Sam spoke up, grabbing the keys from Dean and trying a few before one finally worked.

The room was small, but packed full. Sam and Dean—after carefully scanning for traps—split up and began to go through their father’s things.

“Hey, I think this file cabinet’s locked,” Sam said from one corner. Dean lifted his head, but didn’t go to his brother’s aid, too busy going through a box of odds and ends.

“Or you just didn’t pull hard enough—maybe if you had any muscle in those noodles—“

“Ok, ok,” Sam interrupted with a scoff. He rolled his eyes, but didn’t dismiss Dean’s theory—he yanked hard on the file cabinet, and it jerked open in a cloud of dust. Coughing, Sam reached down to shuffle through what was inside. “Hey, there’s only one file in here.”

“Fascinating,” Dean said in a tone that said exactly the opposite.

“There’s a birth certificate inside,” Sam said, and suddenly his voice caught. “With…with dad’s name on it.”

“Dad’s birth certificate?” Dean asked, mildly intrigued.

“Dean…not dad’s.”

“What?” Dean was by Sam’s side before Sam had even seen him move.

“Y/N Winchester, born to John Winchester and…Jane Doe.” Sam frowned, his brow crinkling. “I wonder why dad would use his real name when the mother used a fake.”

“This can’t be real,” Dean insisted. “I mean…I know with Adam…but another one?”

“Let’s see,” Sam mumbled, putting the certificate inside and checking the rest of the file. “Pictures.” Sam held up a stack, which Dean immediately snatched from him. Sam ignored this, because he’d found his own details to focus on. “And letters.” Sam grabbed the first letter from a stack of dozens, and began to read. “Dear John…our girl turns one today…”

Dean tapped Sam’s shoulder and held up a photo of a little Y/H/C girl blowing out a singular candle on a pink cake.

Sam moved onto the next letter, skimming it.

“Dear John…I put Y/N in gymnastics because it’s the only way I can get her to work on strength training and endurance.” Sam’s brow crinkled in confusion, but he was distracted when Dean held up a photo of the same girl, a few years older, in a gymnastics leotard on a balance beam.

“What do you think she meant by training?” Sam asked. “Do you think she was a hunter?”

“Could be.” Dean shrugged. “Maybe that’s why she signed her letters Jane Doe.” Dean pointed to the bottom of the letter, where “love, Jane Doe” was written.

Sam was about to pull out another letter when his fingers froze on the paper.

“Dean…”

“Hm?” Dean asked distractedly, still going through photos.

“Dean look at this.” Sam flipped the paper around, and on the back of it was a watermark—an indicator of who made the stationary.

It was the Men of Letters insignia.

…

“Lebanon, please,” you said to the taxi driver. “I’ll direct you to a more specific location when we get there.”

The man shrugged, unbothered, and began the journey.

You desperately wanted to go to Lawrence in search for your father, but you had to be realistic—you hadn’t eaten all day, you were jet lagged and exhausted, and you needed a plan of action. You needed to recover and regroup, and you needed to do it in a secure location; you needed to feel safe. In fact, you were so wound up that you flinched when the radio came on.

“—o one seems to have any information on who is causing the recent string of murders. The chief of police has offered no comment, other than a warning that the people of Lawrence should stay indoors when possible, and be alert. But there’s no denying the oddity of the case—the mass murderer seems to have some kind of vampire ideologies, with each of its victims drained completely of their blood. In other news—“

“Hey, driver!” You called out, and he glanced over his shoulder to indicate he was listening. “I changed my mind. Take me to Lawrence.”

…

“It’s gotta be another djinn.”

Dean would’ve groaned if he didn’t have a mouthful of hamburger to swallow first.

“Not those again,” he said after a gulp of beer washed down the last of his burger. They’d finished going through John’s things—Sam taking the file of your pictures and documents with him—only to leave and stumble upon a case. Dean had wanted to stop at a diner on the way back home, but he hadn’t expected to walk past a news stand to see a paper with “vampire killer” written across the front. It took Sam less than ten minutes of reading the paper, as well as a little time on the internet, to render the paper completely wrong.

“It doesn’t fit with a vampire. No teeth marks, no signs of struggle, the bodies were found in a different location from where they were taken—it’s definitely a djinn.”

“Ok, so silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood.” Dean sighed. “We happen to have one of those?”

“I think we still have the one we used last time in the trunk,” Sam said.

“Then let’s get going.”

…

You picked up a machete after being dropped off by the cabbie, hoping beyond hope that the radio had been right (even if they were kidding) about it being a vampire—there were several monsters known to drink blood, and if it was anything other than a vamp then things might get tricky. Normally you would be more prepared, but it wasn’t like you could get your weapons through customs when traveling to America, and you’d had to travel light so you could move more quickly. The British Men of Letters worked quickly, so you couldn’t take any chances. And buying up strange kinds of weapons near an old Men of Letters bunker was definitely too high a chance to take, so all you could do was hope that it was a vamp.

You’d done so much research about Lawrence that you barely even have to wonder where the creature might be hiding out—while researching Lawrence, you’d almost automatically noted the places where a supernatural being might be inclined to hide, so all you had to do was see which one was closest to the bodies that were dropping.

Then you were ready to hunt.

…

“I’m telling you, this has to be it. It’s nearly equidistant to all the bodies, and it’s the perfect place for a djinn to hide out.”

“You don’t have to sell me on the location, I believe you,” Dean told Sam. “But you do have to tell me how to get there.”

“Turn right here…yeah, and a left at that stop sign, and then we’re there.”

“So are we just not gonna talk about it?” Dean asked after a beat of silence as he followed Sam’s directions.

“Talk about what?”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t know, maybe our little sister?”

“I don’t know what to say, Dean,” Sam sighed. “There’s no address anywhere in the documents or the letters, and we don’t even know her mother’s name, or if Y/N even goes by Winchester. Her mother used an alias, it makes sense that the kid would go by one, too. We have no reason to believe that she’s going by the name on her birth certificate, so we don’t have the first clue on how to find her.”

“Well it feels like we have to do something,” Dean argued. “I mean we don’t even know if this kid knows about dad—for all we know, she thinks he’s still alive. She deserves to know.”

“Why the sudden interest?” Sam questioned. “You didn’t seem all this interested when we found out about Adam.”

“That was different,” Dean sighed. “With Adam…Adam was just some normal, innocent kid who saw dad once a year for a baseball game and knew nothing about the life. This kid—Y/N—with the talk in those letters about training, and the Men of Letters insignia…she’s in this life, Sam, I can feel it. And since dad’s not around anymore…I think it’s our job to make sure she’s ok.”

“And I’d be happy to do that,” Sam insisted. “If only we knew how to find her. But for now, let’s do what we can do—take out this djinn.”

…

The sight of a car in the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse worried you—even if it was a beautiful car.

“Chevy Impala,” you mumbled to yourself. “67, I think.” You shook yourself, moving your mind back to the task at hand, rather than the conversation you were having with yourself. Hopefully the car here didn’t mean that its owners were anywhere near the warehouse—the last thing you needed was some innocent people getting in the way and getting hurt.

Seeing no one around, you hefted your machete and headed inside.

…

Dean gestured at Sam to be quiet as he peaked around a corner. Signaling that the coast was clear, Dean led the way through the warehouse, the silver dagger gripped in his steady hand. Dean was just signaling Sam to wait so he could check around another corner when—

“Hey!”

“Jeez—what?”

Dean stopped himself just short of cutting not a djinn, but a Y/H/C girl wielding a machete that was aimed at him.

“Hey, easy.” Dean took a quick step back, raising the knife and his hands in the air. “We’re not—“ Dean’s words died in his throat when he got a good look at your face.

“Dean,” Sam breather from beside him. “It’s—“

“No kidding.”

“What are you talking about?” You demanded, lowering the machete just a little bit. “Who are you guys, what are you doing here?” You didn’t want for an answer. “You have to get out of here, there’s a—“ your eyes fell to the silver dagger.

Sam’s gaze followed your own to the weapon in Dean’s hand before he looked back at you.

“It’s not a vamp,” he said, gesturing at your machete. “It’s a djinn.”

You lowered your machete completely.

“You’re hunters?”

Dean couldn’t keep the astonished smile off his face.

“And you’re Y/N Winchester.”

The machete was back up in an instant.

“Who are you?” You demanded for the second time. “Men of Letters?”

“Easy, easy,” Dean said, taking a step back as you advanced on them. “I’m not—“

“Guys!”

Sam’s warning proceeded the arrival of the djinn by a split second—just enough time for Dean to dodge the blow that the djinn tried to land on him.

“Hey!” Your call turned the attention of the djinn, who grabbed hold of your arm before you had the chance to move away. He twisted your arm behind your back until your machete was crashing to the ground and you were crying out in pain.

“Here!” Dean’s call came a second before the silver dagger was hurtling at your face. You snatched it up with your free hand and twisted it so it was facing the djinn a moment before you plunged the dagger into the djinn’s side. He howled with pain and released your arm, giving you an opportunity to spin around and stab again, this time in the neck.

The djinn went down without a sound, and the thud of his fall echoed through the empty room. For a long moment, only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard. That is, until Dean took a step towards you.

“Back off!” You yelled, raising the blood-soaked dagger.

“Are you serious?” Dean scoffed. “Hey, I just helped save your life.”

“I’m not going back!” You were starting to look panicked as you backed away from the brothers. “So-so just tell Lady Bevell, or Ketch, or Mick, or whoever recruited you that I’m done! I’m not a part of the Men of Letters, and I never will be!”

“Hey, hey, easy,” Sam soothed. “We’re not Men of Letters.”

“Then how do you know who I am?” You challenged.

“Because of John Winchester.”

Sam’s response froze you in your tracks.

“J…John Winchester?” The dagger was slowly lowering. “You know him? You know where he is?”

The hope in your eyes was like a punch in the gut to both brothers. However, it was gone in an instant and replaced with a harsh suspicion as you raised the knife higher again.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“That’s how we know who you are, kid,” Dean insisted.

“Here—“ Sam’s hand was halfway to his pocket when you pointed your knife at him and he froze. “Easy, ok? I’ll go slow.” He slowly reached in, and you relaxed slightly when he pulled out a small bundle of papers. “We’ve got letters that your mom sent to him, with some pictures.” Sam held them out, and you hesitantly took them, thumbing through the stack while occasionally glancing warily at the boys.

“They stop,” you mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“The letters, they stopped…at least ten years ago.” You looked back up at the boys as you spoke. “Is…is there more, or…”

The despair on the boys’ faces spoke for itself. Your lip was already quivering as you tucked the letters away, still holding onto the knife but keeping it pointed down.

“Is he…is he dead?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “About ten years ago.”

Sam could tell you were trying not to cry, trying to act like they hadn’t just ripped the rug out from under you.

“You know, I—I didn’t even know him—“ your voice cracked. “But I…gosh, I re-I really wanted to.”

You let Dean take the knife from you after he put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Um, so.” You wiped your hand over your face, trying to brush away any stray tears as you tried valiantly to pull yourself together. “So how did you two…”

“He’s…he’s our dad, too.” Sam said. Your eyes widened slightly as you absorbed this information.

“Wait, you…were you…from his wife?”

“You knew about her?” Dean asked.

“Not really,” you admitted. “John…dad, he…he never liked to talk about his past, but he did mention his wife in one of his letters…he said her death was what made him become a hunter.” Your lips quirked up as you remembered. “He said if I ever saw a yellow-eyed demon, send it to hell for him.” Your eyes went back to Dean and Sam. “Is…is that how he died? Hunting demons?”

“Kind of,” Sam said. “It’s…it’s a long story.”

“What about you?” Dean said suddenly. “If you know Lady Bevell and the rest, and you know they’re here recruiting, then you’ve got something to do with the Men of Letters. Not to mention their insignia on the back of those letters.”

Just the mention of the Men of Letters had you on edge again.

“Maybe we should talk about this at a more secure location,” you suggested. “There’s an old Men of Letters bunker not far from—“ you cut yourself off when you caught the look between the two brothers. “What?”

“We know,” Sam said. “We’ve been living in it.”

Dean noticed your fingers twitch, as if you were thinking about reaching for a weapon.

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re not Men of Letters?”

“Our grandfather was one,” Dean said. “He left us a key.”

You seemed to consider this. Dean watched as your eyes got a faraway look, and he knew you were trying to remember something.

“Mom said that John was from a line of the Men of Letters. It was one of the ways she tried to get him to join.” You shook yourself of the memories. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

Dean couldn’t help the way a smile twitched just slightly on his lips before he dropped it.

“Fair enough.”

…

You were quiet the whole way to the bunker, and although your brothers had questions they sensed you were tired and on edge, so they refrained. Dean kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror the whole way, and he was happy to see the way you slowly put your guard down—mostly out of exhaustion—as you relaxed into a light slumber.

You awoke with a start when Dean pulled into the bunker’s garage, the echo of Baby’s engine reverberating loudly.

“Home sweet home,” Dean crowed as you stepped out of the Impala. You didn’t say a word as he led you inside, but the moment the three of you settled down around the kitchen table, you finally started to talk.

“John met my mother on a hunt. She was just visiting America, vacation or something, but she happened to stumble on a case. They met…and well, I came along.” Both brothers noticed you skipping over the details, for which they were grateful. “But while mom was still pregnant she tried to convince dad to join the Men of Letters.” Sam noticed the way you kept switching between dad and John, as if you either weren’t sure what to say, or you weren’t sure what the boys were comfortable with. “He didn’t like the idea, and he didn’t want that for me, either. They fought about it, and mom left the country to go back to England. She was still pregnant…” Dean saw your fists clench and unclench as you blinked rapidly. “Dad, he…he never saw me in person. Any-anyway, she still wrote to him, and she let me read his letters. She said he deserved that much, at least. Dad was always telling me hunter things—I think he was hoping I’d end up a hunter, like him.”

“Why did you?” Sam spoke up. “I mean, if your mother raised you with the Men of Letters…”

“She kept a lot from me,” you said. “The…morally ambiguous parts.” At Dean’s strange look, you scoffed. “Ok, let’s be real, the straight up evil parts.” This got a grin from both brothers. “But she, uh…” the lightheartedness in the room was gone in an instant. “She died last year, and well…people stopped lying to me. I realized all the crap they really did, and I ran.”

“And what, they’re after you?” Dean questioned. “I mean it’s not like the mafia, right, I mean you can just leave.”

You nearly laughed out loud.

“I wish they were as sloppy as the mafia. No, you can’t just leave, especially not me—just because I’m a kid, doesn’t mean I couldn’t have over a decade of Men of Letters’ secrets stored in my brain. That’s why I came here, I…I wanted to find dad. To find family, protection.” You took a deep breath. “I want to be a hunter, not a Man of Letters.”

Dean found himself speaking before he even thought about what to say.

“Why do you have to be either?”

“What?” You said at the same time as Sam. Dean glanced between you before continuing.

“You’re just a kid—you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You don’t have to be either, you could be whatever you want.”

You blinked up at Dean, as though the thought had never occurred to you.

“I…I don’t…”

“Look,” Dean began. “Don’t decide just now. John may not be here, but we’re family too, kid. There’s an empty bedroom down the hall, you should get some sleep, get settled in…then maybe we could talk about this hunting stuff, ok? The important thing is, you’re safe here. Let’s just say we don’t like the British Men of Letters anymore than you do. They’re not getting in here, and they’re not getting to you. Everything else can wait for later.”

You felt a smile—a true smile—etching its way into your face for the first time in so long. You looked up at this man—your big brother—and you couldn’t help but feel that everything was going to be ok. Whether you decided to hunt or not, or whether the Men of Letters came after you, you knew one thing for sure—

You really had found your family.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe

[worseforwords]

The Arrangement

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter I of Marshmallow

“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”

You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.

Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”

The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.

Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”

“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”

“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said. 

“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.

A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.

The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?

"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.

“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”

You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.

“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”

Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.

“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you. 

“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.

“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.” 

Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.

You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.

“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.

The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”

Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.

Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”

Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.

The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.

The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”

Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.

“Too stiff!”

“More like you mean it!”

“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”

You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”

As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.

“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”

That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.

As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.

“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”

“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder. 

“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room. 

“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.

The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected. 

Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”

Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.

By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.

“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.

You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”

The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.

As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.

Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right? 

“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?

The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?

You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face. 

“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”

“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.

“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.

You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.

Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.

-> Chapter II

[3rachaslut]

I would love to request gentle+ comfort sex with Chris where reader is upset and chris proceeds to love the sadness away?

bonus points if it includes daddy but you dont have too if you're not comfortable

are you KIDDING?! i have the biggest daddy kink ever hxvekwn hi twin! 🤍 also i feel like chan is such an amazing lover, like the way he would be so loving to you during sex omg it makes me cry :’(

also, take a shot each time you read the world beautiful xox

chan x female reader

contents: kinda angst but mainly smut. reader is going through some shit. pet names, daddy kink, fingering, domxsub kinda.

MINORS DNI !!!

you couldn’t really remember how long you had been feeling so drained, sat resting on the headboard of yours and chris’ bed, wiping away the endless tears that just kept pouring out of you. work was a lot right now and your self esteem was at an all time low. you usually tried to keep a handle on your emotions as best you could so you didn’t lose your head, but tonight, every thought spinning around your head left you feeling as if you were drowning. you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts by chris calling your name, accompanied by a knock of the bedroom door. rapidly wiping the tears from your eyes, you try your best to throw a smile his way but there was no fooling him. as soon as he saw your red, puffy eyes and shaking hands, his heart sank.

“oh angel, what’s the matter” he gasps, quickly running to sit next to you on the bed. at his words, you couldn’t help but let out a staggered breath you didn’t realise you were holding. resting your tired head upon his shoulder, he wrapped his hand to cup your head against him, rubbing calming circles that eased the tension in your head slightly. “hey it’s okay, what’s happened?”

“chris.. i can’t do this.” you whine, ambiguity coating your sentence as you cling your arms around him.

“do what love? talk to me.” he pleas softly. you turn your head to look into his eyes and he plants a kiss on your forehead. “talk to me baby, i’m here for you. always.”

“it’s just everything. work is so stressful right now and no matter how well i do at a particular job, they always find some reason that im not good enough. i’m so busy with work that i haven’t had time to see my friends and family and you’re working so much more recently with your new comeback that i’m hardly seeing you and… i’m just… tired. i feel like no matter what i do, nothing is getting better. i feel like im stuck in limbo and i can’t see a way out of it.” you blurt out all at once, continuing on and on and all the while, chris is listening attentively to your words that are crushing him inside. his beautiful angel shouldn’t be feeling this way. he wanted to take all your pain away.

“anyway, i don’t really wanna dwell on it anymore. you’re back home and i haven’t really spent any time with you for ages” you tilt your head to look into his worried eyes and he smiles at you as best as he can. he is worried about you but he didn’t want to keep you talking about it if you didn’t want to as well. you would rant to him when you wanted to at another time if that’s what you needed. right now he knew that you needed a distraction. taking your cheek into his hand, he plants a kiss on your swollen lips in which you deepen. you’ve needed this for so long. you let out a relived sigh at his lips against yours once he pulls away and he rests his forehead against yours.

“my beautiful, beautiful girl” he whispers, causing goosebumps to form along the nape of your neck. you let out an unsure hum at his words. “you are, baby girl. absolutely stunning”

“i just.. don’t really feel like it right now. i mean, look at me. my hair is a mess and my eyes and face are all puffy-” chan interrupts by gripping your cheeks into his hands, making you look into his eyes. those gorgeous eyes you get lost in every time.

“baby.. you’re the most perfect, amazing, beautiful, sexiest girl i have ever seen” he says, tilting your chin back up to look at him, after looking down from shying away at his words of admiration. “look at me” and you do. your worries one by one beginning to float away just by looking at the man in front of you. your man in front of you.

“let me show you how beautiful you are baby girl. please. let me love your sadness away angel” he whispers out, slowly leaning over you and laying you down underneath him. you nod with a smile on your face. how could you ever refuse? he trails two fingers along the entirety of your upper half, starting at your left temple and all the way down to your waistband. your eyes flutter shut at the slightest touch that set fire to your skin. after years, he still had such an affect on you even with minimal touch. he hooks his finger around the hem of your pj shorts and pulls them down around your knees which you assist in discarding. continuing down your thigh, towards your knee and back again, shivers of anticipation took over you.

“i wish you could see how beautiful you look y/n. even more beautiful underneath me..” he teases as his delicate traces get closer and closer to your impatient pussy. you grind your hips upwards in response, now desperate for him to touch you and hum in aggravation when he moved his hand all together. he leans in toward your face and your breath hitches in your throat.

“baby..” chan hums warningly, raising an eyebrow at your gesture. “please…” you mewl out, your pussy throbbing at his dominant tone. “please what babe?”

“please… daddy” you utter and he instantly slides his fingers to rub your clit, your body jolting at the sudden touch. you let out a loud moan, your head tilts back and your eyes begin to roll back in bliss.

“good girl” he praises as he begins to suck marks against your now exposed neck. you begin to shake under him at the stimulation and he slowly trails his fingers towards your entrance. a staggered breath leaves your throat.

“look at me y/n. what do you say?”

“please daddy” you gasp out as he slowly inserts just the tip of his fingers into your wet cunt.

“please what?” he torments. “hmm?”

“please finger me daddy” you beg as he looks into your desperate eyes. you nearly scream out your last word as he shoves the entirety of his two fingers inside you, curling his fingers in just the right spot causing your legs to shake uncontrollably. moans were leaving your mouth relentlessly which only encouraged chris to go faster and faster. the sounds of your wet pussy filled the room and you couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment.

“don’t you dare hide that beautiful face from me y/n. fuck- love hearing the sounds your wet cunt makes for me doll” chan says, his voice slightly raised which only added to the arousal you were feeling. “fuck baby you’re so sexy”

“chri- daddy! i’m gonna come!” you nearly scream out as you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone. your head is thrashing against the pillow and your hands desperately cling to the duvet under you. chan worked his fingers faster inside of you and your mouth gapes open. you look up to see his face only inches away from yours.

“then come baby girl” he whispers down you ear and you do. hard. your body contorts so much from your orgasm anyone else would think you needed an exorcism. screams and curses where flying from your mouth as you threw your head back towards the headboard.

“fuck- chri- daddy FUCK daddy ahh” you cry as you ride out your orgasm, attempting to catch your breath as you come down. chan plants kisses on your sweaty forehead and down towards the tip of your nose.

“don’t ever believe you are not the most beautiful woman in the world. at least in my eyes darling”