#i may have made her but i watch her as if i just met her'
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lavenders388 · 8 hours ago
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hey :) I was wondering if you could do a Dae ho fic, where he and the reader are absolutely oblivious to their feelings and Jung-bae decides to do what he can to push them together (the ultimate wing man) Thanks
~Oblivious~
Kang Dae Ho x Reader
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requested 💌
a/n: this is the cutest request ever:) i love jung bae and dae ho together and this is such a sweet idea! sorry if this seems a bit rushed!! i wrote it before school:3
"during lights out, we should keep watch over the group in pairs." gi hun states sternly. he is met with some mumbled "why?"s, but out of desperation and lack of anything else to follow in the place, everyone has silently agreed to just go with what he says.
as the recorded voice echoes throughout the large, intimidating room you all will call home for the night, you look around to who could be your second for watch duty. you think about choosing maybe guaem ja or her son as they have become the closest to you, closest to friends.
"hey y/n, you watch with dae ho tonight." you hear from the bunk next to you. you look and see it to have come from jung bae, the man who knows gi hun from before the games. you've grown to trust him as well, his genuineness aiding in delivering moments of relief from the awful place you've all found each other in. you notice he's trying to hide a smile.
"okay sure!" you say with a small smile, relieved to know what the plan is for the night as well as to have someone to spend it with. the thought of not being alone relieves your fear massively, and then thought of dae ho being your partner made your twinge.
"may i stay here until it's my turn?" you ask gi hun, referring to your bunk that's across the X side of the room. "yes of course, it wouldn't be safe to walk all that ways in the night." gi hun replies. the reminder of the unsafe situation makes your skin crawl thinking about what could come throughout the night.
all you want is to just go home, but knowing that home wouldn't be much better makes your spirit falter. you've grown to enjoy being apart of your group, the community being something very starkly different than what you're used to. you had a few friends before coming to the game, but you were never super close. they probably haven't even noticed you're missing yet. as the brisk thought of them not having a clue of your whereabouts crosses your mind, you look around to the group who decided they would protect you throughout this before even knowing you. they're all talking amongst themselves, joking and being kind. its refreshing. it makes you forget all about where you are.
you decide that when you're out you wont be notifying your friends back home. you'll take the money and spend your time with the people you're with right now, the people who chose to care for you out of the kindness of themselves.
thinking about this makes you realize how much you don't want to stop spending your time with these people. your thoughts are interrupted by a soft hand on your shoulder. you turn and see dae ho.
you smile at him, and listen as he begins to tell you why he got your attention. "we should stay close together until its time for our watch. would you like to sleep in the bed next to mine?" he says with his normal confidence, all though you notice his voice faltering a bit when he asks you to sleep next to him. "of course dae ho, thank you for asking." you say smiling at him again.
"actually would you guys be okay taking the first watch, it would probably be the safest one." you hear from above you as you see jung baes head poking out of one of the taller bunks. you both agree and get out of bed heading to where gi hun designated the watch point of your little base.
after you get settled, an awkward silence falls on you. "do you really think that people will try to fight us tonight?" you ask dae ho in a whisper, trying to start a conversation but also speaking your worry in a way that might make you feel better. "I'm not sure, but gi hun said that's what happened last time. he didn't say it was every night though, so maybe we'll be okay tonight." he says in a soft but still confident tone. it makes you feel safer, knowing that fighting may not even break out tonight. his voice comforts you as well.
"what do you plan on doing with the money when you get out?" you ask him, looking up at him for the answer. "well first i would pay off some debts, then i think i would buy a house, or even an apartment depending on how much i get. and then after that i haven't really thought of anything." he says with a chuckle that brings a smile to your face. "what about you, y/n?" he asks you. "honestly the same as you. like exactly. I wanna pay off whatever I can and then settle down somewhere. and then I'm not sure." you say to him with a smile. you think its funny you both have the same plan.
"i think thats a great idea y/n." he says to you softly and genuinely. you've grown to really appreciate the way he speaks to you, to everyone. you smile at him again as another awkward silence falls over the two of you. "if you make way more than what you think you will, then what do you think you would do?" he asks sweetly, caring for your answer as well as to dissipate the silence. "I have no idea!" you say a little louder than you should've, with a hint of sarcasm. "i think maybe id get like a cool car or something i don't know." you say laughing at yourself. your laugh makes him smile.
"what would you do dae ho?" you ask him in return. "i might start up a business or something, like maybe a coffee shop or a little market." he answers. you find this endearing. "that's really interesting!" you reply. "that sounds really fun, maybe ill do that as well."
"maybe we could do it together."
he states, his mood shifting from small talk to something more.
"i would really like that." you reply.
"hey lovebirds its our turn to watch." jung bae says laughing with gi hun from behind the two of you. you wonder how long they've been standing there.
as you crawl back into the bed next to him, you begin to hope there was truth in jung baes words.
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creatie123 · 2 days ago
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CHOI SU-BONG/THANOS X PREGNANT!PREADER PART 2
Part 1 Part 2 part 3 Part 4
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tw: mentions of suicide, abusive tendencies, strong language, light manipulation, emotional whiplash, drug use
“Green light!’ the doll calls out.
We all start walking forward. When the doll calls out red light the man, 456, shouts out for everyone to freeze. I can't help but flinch every time. We have made it to about half way when a girl starts screaming. She laughs and says something, then there is a loud bang. 456, starts yelling orders. For people to not move. I'm confused until a lady screams and people start running. There are many loud bangs as the voice on the intercom reads out a list of players that are eliminated. 
456 finally gets everyone's attention telling them to get in single file lines with taller people in the front. I hide behind a tall girl. She was the girl who I was behind in the stairwell. The intercom repeats the rules before the doll calls out ‘green light’ again. 
We have almost made it to the finish when my stomach starts cramping and I lean over to grip the girl's shirt groaning in pain. 
“Hey are you ok?” she asks.
“Yes yes. Just.. just a stomach ache.” If people know I'm pregnant they may think I'm weak.
When we cross the finish line I look back out over the crowd and see the amount of blood sprayed over the field. I double over and spill my guts.
“Celina.” I hear his voice.
I freeze and go to walk away but a hand on my upper arm spins me around.
“What the hell are you doing here?” su-bong asks me.
His pupils are huge and I give him a disapproving look. I shrug his hand off my arm and turn to walk away, getting mixed with him is not something I want to do right now. Once again I find myself being forced to look at him. 120 grabs me and pulls me behind her. Glaring down at him. He scowls up at her before turning to walk away.
She turns too look at me with concern. “Friend of yours?”
I place my hand on my stomach. “Uhm..”
Her eyes widened “oh.. Oh!”
“Shhh. Please I cant have people thinking i'm not a good teammate.” she nods.
When we are all taken back to the main room I feel fatigue set in and I immediately go to lay in my bed thankfully I don't have blood on me like most players so I don't need to take my jacket off yet, not like I want to. The scars that litter my arms I know would cause unwanted attention. 
“Uhm… 121?” I hear a soft voice behind me.
“Hm? Oh 222, hi.” I say
Behind her are an elderly woman and a younger boy. 120. Is also with them.
“Can I help you guys?”
“We were wondering if you would want to team up with us?” she asks.
My eyes widen and I feel unnecessary tears well in my eyes. I nod my head
The sliding suddenly opens and the man with the square mask starts talking. A lady begins begging for him to let her go. Before I know it we are in the process of taking a vote for who wants to stay and leave. We started with 456, I watched su-bong skip up to the button and press the o, our eyes met for a second before I turned away. When my number is called I slowly walk up to the button my hands trembling. The internal debate of getting out alive but the mountain of debt I have. I hope to survive and get out with the money. Suddenly I felt a kick in my belly. I gasp and lean over the button. Guilt racks my heart as I forgot I am not deciding for only myself anymore. A tear escapes my eye, as I hit the x, the room shining red for just a second. I hear a mix of sighs of relief and disappointment. I receive my patch and go to stand beside 222 and the elderly lady. Even without looking I can feel his eyes on me. When the voting is done I feel tears escape my eyes when I see that we will be staying for another game. I walk back to my bed in defeat. When I got there su-bong was already sitting there with his friend.
“So I wasn’t just high. You really are her babe.” he says getting up.
I back away from him falling onto someone else's bed.
“What are you doing here babe?”
“Don't call me that su- thanos.” he would always get annoyed if I called him su-bong in public.
“Don’t be like that, I have missed you girl.” he says grabbing my wrist and pulling me down so I am sitting in his lap.
Panic as his arms wrap around my stomach and his body stills. At that exact moment my child has chosen now would be a good time to be active. And I can feel him kick my stomach. Right. Against. His. hand. 
“What the fuck. Are you-” I shoot up out of his hold and bolt off to the bathroom.
Slamming the door open I kneel in front of the toilet and empty my guts. Tears burn my eyes at the burning feeling in the back of my throat and the aching in my chest. The door to the bathroom slams open and I hear su-bong calling out my name. He sounds beyond furious. I sit huddled on the toilet clutching my stomach. I remember all to late that the door is not locket as its slams open omitting a crashing sound when it hits the wall.
“Are you.” it wasn't a question at this point.
I simply nod, I try but the tear will not stop.
“Is it mine.” again it was not a question.
I nod. Before I can blink he is kneeling in front of me staring at my stomach. He reaches out slowly being met with a little kick in return. His face is full of hurt confusion and anger.
“How far along are you.”
“24 weeks.” I whisper, dropping my head.
“How long have you known.”
“I found out at 14 weeks.” 
“And you left me at 10.”
“Su-bong I-” I am cut off with him slamming his fist into the wall. I flinch and shrink into the toilet seat.
I yell out as his fist tangles in my hair and yanks my head back to look at him. His jaw is tense and his pupils are shot.
“How did you find out.”
“I-I.”
“Dont fucking stutter when you talking to me bitch.” he spits yanking my hair again.
My scalp burns with the abuse. “I found out when I was at the hospital!” I cry.
“Why the fuck where you at the hospital, celina.”
“Su-” a sharp tug on my hair corrects me. “Thanos, please stop hurting me.” I sob.  
“Baby you know I hate repeating myself.”
“I wanted to die!” I sob.
His motions freeze. I think I could hear his breathing stop for a moment.
“You. you tried?” I nod the best I could with his grip on my hair.
Before I know it I am being pulled into my ex’s arm. He cradles my head to his chest and I bury my face in his chest letting out all my frustration and sadness and anger. And god damn it i missed him. I missed my su-bong.
“Can I see?” I hear him whisper.
Sniffling, I pull back and look at him, “see?”
He looks at my stomach.
“My arms are… gross.”
He just cocks his head at me like a stupid fucking puppy not understanding why its getting scolded. This is why I hate it when he is on drugs. He gets so bipolar.
“I want to see,” he says placing his hand on my stomach again.
I sigh. With trembling hands I unzip my hoodie and let it slide down my area. My short sleeve shirt is just slightly too tight against my growing bump. Despite wanting to see my belly his eyes immediately lock onto my arms and his face contorts into an emotion I have never seen on his face. I wrap my arms around myself. 
“Before I came here.” he pauses, placing his hands on my shoulders and running them down to take my hands. “The recruiter found me on a bridge. I was gonna jump. There was my debt and then the drugs and before I knew it you were gone and I didn’t know where you were. I missed you so much baby.” 
I’m the one to pull him into me this time “su-bong-”
The door to the bathroom slams open, cutting off what I was about to say. We both whip around to look at who just entered.
~~~
hi everyone I am happy that I got to post this chapter so soon, I am sorry about the second cliffhanger in a row, I cant say anything other than I hope you think them as much as do. Let me know what you think! or if you want me to take a brake from this story and focus on a specific request, my requests are always open!
till next time
-Creatie
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clarisse0o · 2 days ago
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The Mayor - Chapter 6
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect
Words: 1200
Masterlist
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It was late on that Tuesday night. Past 10 p.m. Alexia and I were going over the final preparations for Thursday’s event. Many guests had confirmed, much to our delight. We were expecting over 200 people, which meant we’d need to reorganize the office for the evening.  
The only downside, on Alexia's end, was that the Mayor hadn't confirmed her attendance. At least, it was assumed she wouldn't be coming, as she hadn't deigned to reply to my message, simply sending an email to schedule a Friday meeting at the construction site, saying she wasn’t available before then. Not a word about the invitation. This didn’t bother me. Her presence always made me uneasy, and I didn’t like that feeling.
At 10:40 p.m., my phone buzzed. A new notification. An email.
"Good evening, 
I’ll be attending your event on Thursday, accompanied, at 8 p.m. I won’t stay long.
Lucy."
Stunned, I read the email several times. That curt tone—there was no mistaking it, it was classic Lucy. Alexia looked at me in surprise and asked what was going on.
"The dragon is coming. Tomorrow at 8 p.m.!"
Alexia shrieked and jumped into my arms.
“You’re the best! We’ll call the press tomorrow!”
“I don’t think she’s coming because of me! She’s bringing someone … but who?”
"Her husband!"
I had forgotten she was married. I had never met her husband, and she had never mentioned him.
"Alexia, there’s a problem. Philou is very likely to be there, and she doesn’t know. I might need to let her know…"
Philippe was the opposition leader from the last rather heated election. To say they didn’t get along was an understatement.
"No, no, no! Just tell her we’re expecting her! They’re adults! And with so many people there, they don’t have to cross paths. Everything will be fine!"
I didn’t quite share her optimism.  
I sat down at my keyboard.
Good evening, Lucy,
We’re delighted you’ll be attending! (Hypocrisy x1)  
We eagerly await your arrival. (Hypocrisy x2)
Best regards,  
Ona
---
Thursday, 8:30 p.m., the party was in full swing. I wore a black dress for the occasion, both classy and sexy, hugging my curves. My long blonde hair was up, and I wore high heels, which was rare for me.  
The guests moved between the cocktail bar and the hors d’oeuvres. A band, friends of Alexia’s, was playing. We had completely rearranged the space, with an exhibition of our work from the past year, along with paintings by local artists. The effect was fabulous. The evening was starting perfectly, and I moved from guest to guest, smiling as the alcohol began to flow through my veins. Alexia was nearby, looking a bit tense, her eyes darting toward the entrance, watching for the Mayor, who still hadn’t arrived. Would she come? The thought barely crossed my mind.
Suddenly, the chatter died down, and heads turned toward the large entrance door. Lucy had just entered, accompanied by a tall, gray-haired man—her husband, presumably.  
She looked stunning, in a royal blue dress that fit her perfectly. She didn’t look 42 at all. I was captivated, taking in the curves of her body, her lips, her gaze… She radiated. She greeted many people with a broad smile, shook plenty of hands, then made her way toward us, still wearing that rare smile when she looked at me.
“Good evening! Thank you for the invitation! May I introduce my husband, Paul.”
Tall, commanding, he greeted us politely.
“Good evening, Madame Bronze,” Alexia said eagerly, as usual, going a bit overboard. “And this is my partner…”
“And the mother of your future child, I presume?” she teased, laughing. So, the dragon had a sense of humor. “Congratulations, by the way.”
Then she turned to me, her piercing blue eyes holding mine.
“Good evening. So, uh… This is my friend, Alessia is…”
“A surgeon?” she cut in instantly, with a mischievous look that only I noticed.
We took some photos for the press, and as the conversation turned to the hospital expansion, I stepped away from the group.
I needed to catch my breath, to clear my head. Her arrival, her gaze—I knew now. I desired her as much as I couldn’t stand her. It was a raw, physical desire. I had to regain control of myself; I didn’t like the effect she had on me. Calm down, Ona, calm down.
I went to chat with a few guests, then moved to the music area and began to dance. Alessia joined me, and soon, we were kissing. The alcohol was rushing through my veins, I was euphoric.
At 11 p.m., the guests started leaving, one by one. I hadn’t seen Lucy again; she must have left much earlier. My head was spinning from the alcohol. I decided to go outside to the large terrace for a cigarette.
I lit my cigarette when I was surprised by a voice.
“You smoke?”
It was Lucy.  
“You smoke?” I replied, noticing the cigarette between her fingers.
She smiled and stepped closer. Silence settled between us, which I decided to break.
“I thought you’d left long ago!”
“No, what can I say, you get caught up talking, and time flies. Plus, the cocktails are really quite good.”
Her eyes were sparkling; she must have had more than one cocktail, I thought with amusement.
“And your husband?”
“He went home. He has to take the twins early tomorrow for a school trip.”
The twins? My mind was hazy. Ah yes, Alexia had mentioned she had 16-year-old twins.
To my surprise, she asked:
“How long have you been with that Alessia?”
It was the first time she’d ever asked me something personal.
“We’re not together anymore, well, not really… We keep in touch, and…”
I was rambling, digging myself deeper. She reached for my forearm, and her touch gave me goosebumps.
“I see, I see. And have you always liked women?”
Her question caught me off guard. We had gone from talking about work to “tell me about your coming out.”
“More or less. I dated a few guys, but nothing serious. I’ve known I liked women since I was 20.”
I continued, now looking directly at her.
“And you’ve always liked men?”
I smiled broadly, meeting her intense blue gaze. I needed to calm down. The alcohol was loosening me up a bit too much.
“Well, that’s something Madame Mayor cannot disclose! Private life!”
She smiled back, holding my gaze. Neither of us wanted to look away. It was like a standoff.  
This time, I reached for her forearm, leaned a little closer, and murmured.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to find out…”
Get a grip, Ona! You’re going too far. She looked at me, seemingly amused.
Our exchange was suddenly interrupted by a man stumbling toward us, shouting incoherently.  
I recognized him. It was Philippe, visibly drunk, a glass in hand.
“Well, The Mayor! Great to see you here!”
He staggered, completely inebriated, and I tried to push him back. Lucy’s face showed concern.
“You’re a bastard, M’am! An old hag spouting lies about me! Scum! Bitch!”
He was yelling now, and all the remaining guests had turned their attention to us. It was a nightmare.  
As Lucy tried to pull away, he threw his drink in her face and attempted to grab her arm. Covered in mojito, Lucy shot a glare at Philippe, then at me. I held Philippe back, trying to apologize to her.  
But it was too late. She had turned on her heel, striding toward the exit under Alexia’s astonished gaze, and slammed the door.
A complete disaster.
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abimee · 8 months ago
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ruyan is literally so beautiful that i get ill looking at her
#a lot of my time as a person who cant recognize himself to the point that if you start asking about myself im going to lie to you#is that i really like to engage with media that asks you to be present in the text by creating an outside being who simply has#some similarities to me#like the concepts i know i have. but make them their own unique person#so ruyan is really fun in that if i was a well adjusted person she would probably be a self insert and not her own person#but instead by the grace of god and my own mental problems she exists and is a full person that i practically see as a friend#like when i like a character so much that they become a comfort to me (emil) my brain engages in relationship interpretation to that#chartacter. emil is my daughter who i feel paternal sentiments to despite me being a human person and her being code in a video game#for ruyan she is like a friend where i want to go to her wedding and see her kids and hear about her life#i may have made her but i watch her as if i just met her'#recognizing this thing i have going on has helped me immensely be comfortable with myself#ruyan is a friend to me a sister tock is my daughter who i feel a real world father-daughter dynamic towards#i feel the need to nourish her and entertain her and put her to bed and let her know i love her#and you dont have to think this is normal because if you by now havent harbored some sort of#This Guy is Weird sentiment towards me youre either like me or VERY kind#but i know that i have parts of me that are weird. i am 23 years old bringing toys to the beach#but i dont chase validation so much as i just enjoy when its given to me#but i dont need validation because i cant even form my own self to need validation for#im learning about myself like im wiping down an old mirror. that doesnt need validation because im seeing it for the first time#im having my understanding moment here and you are free to leave the room and leave me to my mirrow
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fushitoru · 1 month ago
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chapter 7: the rebound a bridgerton au
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pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ after the arrival of your dearest brother, you pursue a new angle to the season, one to prove that you, the diamond, will not be scorned. new opportunities with duke nanami arise and with it jealousy and bitterness fester in the ballroom. (6.8k)
prev. the house party | next. the lake
general masterlist | series masterlist
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Once again, dear Reader, this humble Author finds herself vindicated. Country house parties, as ever, remain the fertile soil from which the most delicious scandals bloom. And today’s revelation is no exception.
Yes, indeed, you read it here first: the dashing and ever-elusive Lord Satoru Gojo will not be marrying Miss Itadori, this season’s most celebrated diamond. The murmurs have already begun spreading like wildfire, bringing sighs of relief from hopeful ladies and knowing smirks from their watchful chaperones. The eligible Duke-to-be’s sudden return to certified bachelorhood is, no doubt, a development many find most agreeable.
But what, pray, has caused this sudden turn of events? The dissolution of an arrangement so seemingly perfect? Alas, even this Author—a tireless seeker of truths—has found the particulars elusive. Was it a clash of personalities? A misstep at the ball? Or perhaps, a secret grievance unearthed during those long, candlelit evenings at the country estate?
What this Author can confirm is that the ballroom whispers point to Lord Gojo’s own doing, based upon the countenances and actions of the pair at the ball. Did the ever-charming lord tire of his diamond’s sparkle, or has he found a more alluring treasure elsewhere? The possibilities are endless, and so, it seems, is the intrigue surrounding the pair.
One thing remains certain: while Miss Itadori may have stumbled in this engagement, she remains a diamond among gems—brilliant, resilient, and admired. What paths now await her are anyone’s guess, but if this Author knows anything, it is that diamonds shine brightest under pressure.
As for Lord Gojo, the question lingers: will his rakish reputation survive this latest scandal unscathed? Or has he, at last, met a match too dazzling even for him to outshine? Rest assured, dear Reader, this Author will remain ever-vigilant, pen poised and ready to uncover the truth.
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
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You could have had a bit more tact when informing Sukuna of the events of the past few days, for the reaction you gained made you realize that you may have made a misstep.
“What?!” Sukuna roared, looking at the three of you with fury. Yuji jumped, while you and Choso grimaced.  “He did what?!”
“Now, now, brother,” Choso stood up nervously to pat his younger brother on the shoulder. “It is all good and well, for I have arranged for a better match for our dear sister—”
“A duel!” Sukuna bellowed, standing up from his seat on the couch to stomp his way to the door. “I will challenge that Gojo fellow to a duel—” It was only until Yuji ran and tackled him to the ground that he was waylaid to God knows what he was going to do to Lord Gojo. You and Choso could only watch the scene, too perforce to the strength of bulls that your brothers had to be able to interrupt. 
A few scratches and awfully purple looking bruises later, Sukuna and Yuji were seated on the couch once again, thanks to Choso’s plead for nonviolence. It was then that Choso started explaining what had occurred in the season so far. “Mother insisted,” he sighed, shaking his head. “She seemed to have struck a mutual…entente with the Duchess of Gojo. It was only a matter of time before Mother forced her ways. Now that it has not redound in her favor, I have even more rationale to have my…way with Sister’s matches. For God’s sake, Sukuna stop glaring at me Mother left me behind on the first ball—”
Sukuna did not stop glaring; in fact, he chose that moment to take a long slurp of his tea while staring fiercely at him while Choso shifted nervously. After a long bout of silence, he finally offered, “I understand Mother can be very pushy, and that you, Choso, are not fierce enough to withstand her.” Choso did not even protest, just offered a deadpan. “But I, however, will not be a feather to a simple blow of the wind that Mother is. It is time our dear sister lived up to her reputation, what she has prepared so hard for.” He looks upon you with a soft gaze—that is, a soft gaze for Sukuna. “No matter how tactless Gojo’s estrangement was, Sister will recover, so long as her morale has not lessened.  Sukuna’s head turned sharply to you, “It has not weakened, right Sister? He has not left you heartbroken?”
You could hear your heart as you looked at your brother, dumbfounded. His perceptive gaze disarmed you, but you blurted out a “Of course not” and turned to hastily grab a pastry from the table next to the loveseat you were seated at.. When you looked back at your brother, you jumped as his gaze lingered on you then nonetheless turned to glare at your brother when Yuji opened his mouth, undoubtedly ready to irritatedly remark on his denseness.
No matter, you think to yourself. Whatever you feel about Gojo is of no matter. The visit at the manor was only a delay and a small obstacle for your season. It was time to attend to the matter at hand: finding a husband. 
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The dewy grass kissed the hem of your nightgown as you wandered to the old swing set on the far edge of the manor grounds—a relic of your childhood, weathered but enduring. The creak of the chains was a sound that had long since embedded itself in your memory, a reminder of simpler days when duty had yet to tighten its grip.
You had not been able to sleep.
The house was still, the hush of midnight settling over its grand halls and sprawling grounds. Yet sleep evaded you, your thoughts as restless as the autumn breeze that stirred the curtains of your chamber. In the quiet, the weight of your obligations pressed heavily upon you, a familiar but unwelcome companion. Deciding that solitude under the stars might grant clarity where the confines of your room could not, you slipped on a shawl and had ventured outside.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Sukuna’s voice cut through the quiet, low and teasing. He was seated on a swing with his big frame illustrating a comical sight on the small seat. His silhouette was faintly illuminated by the dim glow of his cigarillo, and the faint ember cast fleeting shadows across his sharp features, making his smirk all the more pronounced.
The unexpected sight of him startled you for a moment, though you quickly masked your surprise. You drew your shawl tighter around your shoulders, the chill of the night settling into your skin, and stepped closer. “And here I thought I was the only one who sought refuge in our old playground at such an hour,” you replied lightly, though your voice carried the faint weight of sleeplessness. “What brings you here?”
He took a long, deliberate drag from the cigarillo before discarding it into the damp grass, the embers hissing softly as they extinguished. Straightening, he gestured to the empty swing beside him. “Thinking,” he said simply. “And you? Or do I even need to ask?”
You hesitated for only a moment before lowering yourself onto the swing, your fingers grazing the cold chains as you pushed back slightly. The seat creaked beneath your weight, swaying gently with your movements. The motion stirred a familiar ache of nostalgia—a reminder of days when life felt less complicated. “What else could it be but the endless circus of expectations Mother has so kindly bestowed upon me?”
The bitterness in your tone was impossible to conceal, and Sukuna chuckled darkly. He reached up to push a hand through his disheveled hair, his movements purposeful, almost theatrical. “Ah, yes,” he said mockingly. “The marriage parade. The grand auctioning of one’s life for the sake of the family name. What a fine role you’ve been cast in, dear sister. I don’t envy you.”
You gave a dry laugh, your voice quiet yet tinged with resolve. “Unfortunately, dear brother,” you began, staring into the star-dappled sky, “it is my duty to be wed.”
Sukuna turned to you sharply, his brow furrowing. “It is not your duty, least of all when it robs you of your freedom.”
A protest began to form on his lips, but you held up a hand, your expression soft yet resolute. “Let me finish,” you said, your tone firm but affectionate. Taking a deep breath, you continued, “If I were to grow old into a spinster, there would be no one to take care of me. You and Yuji would inherit our lands and manors, and Choso is the viscount; there would be no space for me except with some of our aunts.”
At the mention of your aunts, both of you shuddered involuntarily. The thought of their overbearing presence, their sharp tongues and endless criticisms, was enough to unite even the most quarrelsome of siblings.
“You cannot take care of me forever,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the ground. The swing swayed faintly as you spoke, the motion as restless as your thoughts. “One day, you—or any of our brothers—might choose to start a family with someone you love. It would be intrusive of me to remain dependent on you all.”
Sukuna scoffed, his voice rising slightly with indignation. “You know better than anyone that I aim to travel the world. I cannot be chained to a family or a manor—not now, not ever.”
You turned to him, your eyes softening as you regarded his familiar fire, the same defiance that had always set him apart from the others. “Sukuna,” you said gently, your voice tinged with fondness, “you may do as you please, and I would never wish to impede you. But I cannot rely on you indefinitely. You deserve to live freely, to make your own choices without the burden of my future weighing on your conscience.”
Once again, silence enveloped you both, broken only by the faint creak of the swings and the rustle of the wind through the trees. Then, Sukuna eventually broke the quiet with a heavy sigh. “Then we must make sure to do well and find you a husband on your terms.”
You turned to him, brow arched in curiosity. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk, “that you must stop playing the part Mother has assigned you. Demure and meek may be what she wants, but it’s hardly the truth of you. Besides,” he added, leaning closer as if to share a conspiracy, “do you think the kind of husband you’d want would fall for such a facade?”
His words caught you off guard, and you frowned slightly. “Are you implying I’m to frighten potential suitors away?”
“Not frighten,” Sukuna corrected, his tone amused. “But consider this: if a man is drawn to meekness, might that not suggest he wishes to dominate or control? Would you truly wish to tether yourself to such a person? Or would you rather find someone who can appreciate your independence, who will meet you as an equal?”
His reasoning gave you pause. The image of a husband who might respect your will, who might value the sharpness of your mind and the strength of your character, was tempting—if not entirely what you needed. “And how, pray tell, do you suggest I go about finding such a man?”
Sukuna’s grin widened. “Start by being yourself, unapologetically. Let them see the wit, the fire, the resolve that I know so well. Let them see you, and if they can’t handle it, then they aren’t worth your time.”
You smiled faintly, your heart lighter from his words. After all, this scheming was due on your part; you were only grateful this shift occurred with Sukuna as your humble advisor. “It’s a daring plan, brother. Let us hope it does not lead to my complete social ruin.”
Sukuna laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. “If it does, then you shall travel the world with me. Who needs societal approval when there’s an entire world to explore?”
For a moment, the weight of your burdens felt a little easier to bear. Under the vast, starlit sky, you allowed yourself to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a future where duty and happiness could coexist.
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Despite the peace conversing with Sukuna had granted you, sleep evaded you still, leaving you to roll onto your side, the cool fabric of the pillow offering no solace. Your thoughts had been louder than ever these past weeks, and one name in particular echoed through your mind like a stubborn refrain: Gojo.
His face came unbidden, as vivid as if he were standing at the foot of your bed. That insufferable smirk, the casual way he tilted his head as if always in on some grand secret. He saw through you—that much was undeniable, no matter how much you abhorred it. It wasn’t just the way his piercing gaze seemed to cut through your defenses, stripping away the layers of pleasantries and propriety until you were left exposed. It was his words, too—sharp, direct, and unyielding. Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t content to let you be the demure and dutiful daughter your mother had so painstakingly sculpted.
You turned onto your back, staring up at the shadowed canopy above, the weight of his judgment pressing against your chest. “He wouldn’t want to marry me either,” you thought bitterly, biting your lip to suppress a laugh that was more self-deprecating than amused. Why would he? I am only but a pathological people-pleaser—a woman who smiles and nods and folds herself into whatever shape is required of her. It was a role you had perfected, a mask you wore so often that you sometimes forgot it wasn’t your face. And yet, he saw through it.
That was the part that unsettled you most—not his arrogance, not his sharp tongue, but his ability to cut through your defenses as though they were paper. He saw you, in all your contradictions and uncertainties, and somehow, you suspected that he pitied you for them. Or worse, respected you less for it.
Your stomach twisted at the thought, and you turned onto your other side, burying your face into the pillow. No wonder I’m still unmarried. The thought came unbidden, sharp and cruel. What man would want a wife who couldn’t even decide who she wanted to be?
But that wasn’t fair—not entirely. You had a plan, didn’t you? A bold, liberating plan that would take you far from the shadow of your mother’s expectations. You could already picture her face when you told her—calm, composed, and quietly furious, as though your refusal to obey were a personal affront. The thought brought the faintest flicker of satisfaction, but it was fleeting.
The plan wasn’t perfect, nor was it foolproof. It hinged on one pivotal point: finding a husband who could be an equal partner rather than a master. A man who could grant you the freedom to forge your own path in peace, without the constant weight of disapproval bearing down on you.
Your thoughts wandered to Duke Nanami. Equal in power to Gojo, fair-minded, and kind—a man with no appetite for games or artifice. If you manage to secure a match with him, the ton would not view your…blunder with Gojo with such amusement. Insofar your interactions this season, he had always treated you with quiet respect, never pressing you into conversations you didn’t wish to have or cornering you with expectations. He would be a good man to marry, you thought. A safe choice.
And yet, even as you considered him, Gojo’s face intruded once more, unwelcome and unavoidable. Duke Nanami was everything Gojo wasn’t—measured, steady, predictable. But it was Gojo who set your mind alight, who made you question things you had long accepted as unchangeable truths. He irritated you, challenged you, unnerved you in a way no one else did.
You sighed, turning again, the sheets tangling around your legs like restraints. The very fact that Gojo occupied your thoughts at all was infuriating. He had no place there, no right to linger in the quiet moments when you were supposed to find peace. And yet, here he was, as persistent in your mind as he was in person.
The plan. You needed to focus on the plan. Liberating yourself from your mother’s expectations wasn’t about Gojo or Duke Nanami or anyone else. It was about reclaiming yourself, about becoming a woman who didn’t need to twist herself into shapes for anyone—not your mother, not a potential husband, and certainly not Gojo.
And it would start at your wardrobe.
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You give the most polite smile you can muster, but you do not need the mirror in front of you to know that your countenance is strained, the edges of your smile not reaching your eyes. “Lower it even further.”
A beat passes in the room as the modiste, your mother, and Sukuna stare at you in incredulity.  The bustline to your dress is low. Of course, it is not yet teetering on the edge of what is socially acceptable, and that is the position you want it to be. Hence, you gesture to Sukuna, prompting him to regain his senses and snap his head towards Momo. “Please attend to my sister’s request.”
You could smell what you mother was about to say, even if she had not yet done so. “My dear,” she began, “I hardly think that’s appro–” Sukuna’s glares reorients itself now to focus on your mother, and she purses her lips with what appears to be arduous effort, knowing a quarrel with Sukuna would escalate quite quickly, both immediate and unwise.  
Madame Momo, for the better, offers no protest as she lowers the deep, wine red fabric she was upholding against your body. If you were not wearing your regular clothes, you would know that quite a bit of the swell of your breasts would be framed by the dress. However, it wasn’t enough. “A bit lower.”
The modiste lets out a small sigh, her needle poised mid-air as she hesitates. “My lady, to lower it further would risk—” she pauses delicately, “—compromising the structural integrity of the gown.”
“I appreciate your insight, Madame, and know that you are quite skilled at your craft,” you flash her a semi-apologetic smile. After all, she is the one that has to attend to your…rebranding crisis and revamp a majority of your wardrobe. “However, I am afraid that I’d like to do something new this season. Something eye-catching.”
A faint chuckle escapes her lips, no doubt spurred on by the flattery. With a practiced hand, she adjusts the fabric once more, lowering it to the precise balance of scandalous and sophisticated. She steps back, her critical eye assessing her own handiwork. “Well, it will definitely be eye-catching.”
“Precisely.” You nod in approval, smoothing the line of the fabric with your fingers. “I believe Lady Whistledown,” you add, your voice tinged with knowing confidence, “will ensure that the modiste responsible for the diamond’s striking attire becomes the talk of the season.”
Momo’s lips twitch into a smile, and she dips her head in acknowledgment, already returning to her work with renewed purpose. Sukuna, standing to the side, folds his arms and smirks at the scene, clearly entertained by your audacity.
Your mother, meanwhile, remains silent, though her pursed lips betray her disapproval. Let her simmer, you think, satisfaction curling in your chest. This season is yours to command, and you will not be overlooked.
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I cannot do this. I cannot I cannot I cannot I cann—
“Sister!” Sukuna called out. You regained your senses, snapping your head at once to look at him, who was holding out his hand. Swallowing, you grabbed it so he could assist you out of the carriage. What had you in a tizzy was the sheer amount of people. Yet again, you were attending your first party after the events in the countryside but this time without your mother and Yuuji. Not only had the people you were accompanied with changed, but also different attire. A red silk dress fell over your curves gracefully, the draping across your chest a bit lower than usual. It is the dress of your dreams—one that you would have worn if not for your mother and her beliefs regarding your image. Now, your clothing was still socially acceptable but nevertheless daring—exactly the image you wanted to present. 
However, it was safe to say that after the events of the house party, venturing out in another—with so much of your chest exposed—had you nervous. Oh God, perhaps this wasn’t the brightest of my ideas— (a/n she’s just a girl :( )
“Presenting Miss Itadori, Mister Itadori, and the Right Honorable The Viscount Itadori!” As you were announced to the room, with your brothers linking arms on either side of you, you smiled—trying not to let the nerves show. At the sound of your name, the buzz of conversation faltered, dozens of heads turning toward you. You felt the weight of their gazes—sharp, judgmental, curious. You were certain half of them were eager to witness the fallout of Whistledown’s latest scandal, while the other half seemed transfixed by the boldness of your attire.
Your eyes flitted over the sea of faces as you moved through the room. There were gasps, poorly veiled whispers, and even a few widened eyes aimed at Sukuna, but what truly set your nerves alight was the attention fixed squarely on you. You resisted the urge to fidget, to adjust the neckline of your gown, to shrink under their scrutiny.
Then, amid the crowd, your gaze locked onto a familiar figure with a piercing stare—Suguru Geto.
He was lounging by the far wall, a glass of wine in hand, his dark eyes gleaming with mirth. An amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he shook his head, clearly entertained. Your heart stuttered, the heat rushing to your cheeks making your nerves spike further. Am I being mocked?
Before the thought could consume you, he raised his glass in a mock salute, a gesture of acknowledgment—perhaps even respect. He then nudged the man standing next to him, none other than Duke Nanami.
Your pulse quickened at the sight of the Duke, his composed demeanor a stark contrast to Geto’s casual amusement. The weight of Nanami’s steady, discerning gaze was one you weren’t prepared to meet—not tonight. In the periphery, you caught Geto slipping toward the courtyard, his laughter soft but audible as he disappeared into the night.
You tore your gaze away just in time, focusing straight ahead as you approached the Queen. Your shoulders stiffened, the intricate beading of your gown catching in the light. The murmurs grew fainter, the towering figure of Her Majesty now looming just ahead. With each step, your pulse thundered louder in your ears, but you kept your chin high, determined not to falter.
When you and your brothers reached the foot of the throne, you slipped your arms free from theirs and sank into the deepest curtsy you could manage. "Your Majesty," you murmured, lowering your head to avoid the weight of her gaze. The richness of the room—gold-trimmed drapes, towering portraits, and the hum of whispered conversations—did little to steady your nerves.
"Rise," the Queen commanded, her tone clipped and dismissive, the single word laced with impatience. You obeyed, your movements deliberate and slow, feeling the weight of every eye in the chamber on your shoulders. When you met her gaze, she was already appraising you, her sharp eyes scanning you from head to toe. Her scrutiny was clinical, and when she sighed audibly, it was clear her judgment was far from favorable.
“I have not been…pleased by the recent affairs, diamond,” the Queen began, her voice cold and detached, like a blade gliding through silk. A sniff punctuated her words, and the lump in your throat grew harder to swallow. “I fear this is a failure to the crown.”
The room seemed to tilt, your heartbeat quickening in your chest. The Queen’s disappointment carried a weight that could crush reputations, and yours was teetering precariously on the edge of her approval.
“However,” her tone shifted ever so slightly, and you found yourself snapping to attention, clinging to that single word like a lifeline. “Your recent change in…style is fitting.”
You blinked, unsure if you had heard her correctly. The Queen’s gaze lingered on the daring neckline of your gown, the rich red fabric catching the light in just the right way to emphasize its boldness. “You are not a simple and bland gem, Miss Itadori.” Her words were deliberate, measured, and the faintest hint of approval gleamed in her sharp eyes. “You are a diamond, and you must start to shine like it.”
For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. The Queen’s words were praise, yes, but they also carried an implicit warning: a diamond that failed to sparkle was of no use to anyone, least of all the crown.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you said, your voice steady but quiet, and you curtsied again, the fabric of your gown whispering against the marble floor. The Queen’s gaze swept over you once more before she turned her attention elsewhere, her dismissal unspoken but clear. As you rose again, Choso placed a reassuring hand on your elbow, a subtle anchor in the sea of your swirling thoughts.
A light, “You all are dismissed.”
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The cool night air wrapped around Suguru Geto as he strolled into the courtyard, his boots crunching softly against the gravel path. The faint strains of the ballroom's orchestra followed him, muffled now by the grand walls of the manor. A slow, self-satisfied smile crept across his lips as he glanced up at the stars. The night felt ripe with possibility, though it was the scene he had just left that truly amused him.
He exhaled, letting the crisp air settle over him, before taking another measured step toward the fountain at the courtyard’s center. His fingers grazed the cool stone edge, the chill a welcome change from the warmth of the crowded ballroom. He savored the silence, only for it to be broken by the familiar sound of approaching footsteps.
“Geto,” a voice called out, casual but clipped.
Suguru turned slowly, almost lazily, as though he hadn’t already recognized the speaker. Gojo Satoru emerged from the shadows of the colonnade, his silver hair glowing faintly in the moonlight. He moved with his usual languid ease, though his sharp blue gaze belied his carefree demeanor.
“Well, well,” Suguru greeted, his tone light but edged with something sharp. “You’re out here. Don’t tell me you’ve finally tired of the fawning crowds?”
Gojo came to a stop a few paces away, crossing his arms as he leaned against one of the marble columns. “Needed some air. The room’s packed with too many people pretending to like each other.” His gaze flicked to Suguru, scrutinizing. “And you? Slipping out to avoid trouble, or cause it?”
Suguru chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip. “Oh, you wound me, Satoru. Can’t a man enjoy a moment of peace without being accused of scheming?”
“You?” Gojo raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Not a chance. So, what’s your angle this time?”
Suguru let the question hang, savoring the quiet tension between them. He set his glass down on the fountain’s edge, turning to fully face Gojo. His smirk widened as he finally spoke. “No angle. Just admiring the company tonight. Speaking of which…” He paused for dramatic effect, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. “Miss Itadori made quite the entrance.”
Gojo’s expression didn’t change immediately, but Suguru saw the faint flicker of something—irritation, maybe, or something more carefully hidden. Gojo’s mouth twitched into a scoff, though the sound was faint, almost perfunctory.
“What about her?” Gojo asked, his tone deliberately disinterested, but Suguru noted how his fingers flexed briefly before he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Suguru hummed thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward the sky as if considering his next words carefully. “She looked… radiant tonight. Stunning, really. I can’t imagine half the room wasn’t staring. Though, I must say, some seemed more surprised than others.” His eyes darted back to Gojo, watching for a reaction.
Gojo rolled his eyes, though there was a tightness in his jaw that Suguru didn’t miss. “She’s just another debutante. Why would I care what she’s wearing?”
“Why indeed?” Suguru replied, his voice deceptively mild. He stepped closer, leaning against the fountain with an easy grace. “But it does make one wonder—what kind of man would care? Surely someone with a sharp eye for detail. Someone with… let’s say, a bustful interest.”
Gojo stiffened slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” Suguru tilted his head, studying Gojo with an intensity that bordered on playful. “Because I could swear you seemed a little distracted back there. And not by the Queen, mind you. Why did you leave as soon as the Itadoris were announced?”
“Drop it, Geto.” Gojo’s voice was sharper now, but there was an edge of unease beneath the command.
Suguru’s smirk deepened as he tried to fight the urge to snicker at his friend, but he let the moment linger, letting Gojo stew in his discomfort. He picked up his wine glass again, swirling the liquid idly before taking another slow sip. Finally, he straightened, his tone turning lighter, though no less pointed.
“Well, whatever it is—or isn’t—you’d better sort it out soon.” He started to walk past Gojo, his footsteps deliberately slow. Just as he passed, he paused, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in danger of losing your famously cool head.”
Gojo didn’t respond immediately, but Suguru didn’t need him to. The slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle clench of his jaw—those were all the confirmation he needed for his plan.
Suguru chuckled softly, a sound more amused than mocking, and continued on his way, his voice drifting back over his shoulder. “Enjoy the rest of the night, Satoru. Something tells me it’s going to be… illuminating.”
Left alone, Gojo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he glared at the retreating figure. “Bastard,” he muttered under his breath, though his voice lacked fervor. Still, Suguru’s words lingered, circling his mind like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He turned his gaze back toward the ballroom, his thoughts uncomfortably crowded with images of a certain young lady and the maddening smirk of a man who always seemed to know too much.
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It appears that you and Duke Nanami have much in common, for you are able to hold a most pleasant conversation with him.
The din of the ballroom fades to a dull murmur as you stand near the refreshment table, your gaze politely fixed on the Duke. His presence is commanding yet unassuming—a rare quality that draws you in. Dressed in a deep navy coat that matches the intensity of his solemn eyes, he inclines his head slightly as he speaks, the weight of his words tempered by the gentleness in his tone.
The arrangement is perfect. You have successfully caught your target, much to the chagrin of ladies. After all, it was not all days that Duke Nanami took interest in a lady. You would have to credit Choso; he had researched that HIs Grace did not like overbearing mamas accompanying their girls—a most rational opinion. Posing fiery opinions without the presence of anyone except yourself, it seemed that you had hit the mark.
“I find, Miss Itadori,” he says, his voice smooth yet deliberate, “that many in our circles underestimate the joy of simple pursuits. They mistake extravagance for fulfillment.” He takes a measured sip from his glass, his gloved fingers resting lightly on its stem.
You nod, a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I could not agree more, Your Grace. There is a certain comfort in the unadorned pleasures of life. A good book, a quiet morning—these seem to me the most worthwhile indulgences.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up in what might pass as a rare smile. “Indeed. Though I daresay, quiet mornings are hard to come by when the season is in full swing.”
You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost swallowed by the music that swells across the room. “Quite so. I suppose we are all too busy chasing the next waltz or whispering about the latest Whistledown missive.”
At the mention of Whistledown, the Duke raises a brow, his expression a mixture of amusement and intrigue. “Ah, yes. Our ever-watchful chronicler. One wonders if she, too, finds time for quiet mornings.”
“I imagine she must,” you reply. “After all, how else would she craft such keen observations? A mind as sharp as hers surely requires moments of reflection.”
“Reflection, yes,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting briefly to the chandelier above, as if lost in thought. Then, returning his attention to you, he asks, “And what of you, Miss Itadori? Amidst the bustle, do you find moments to reflect?”
The question catches you off guard—not because it is intrusive, but because it is sincere. Few have ever asked you such things. You hesitate, then answer truthfully. “I try, Your Grace. Though I must admit, the season has left little room for it. It seems my every step is watched, my every word weighed. I sometimes wonder if I have forgotten how to simply be.”
His expression softens, and for a moment, you feel as though he truly sees you—not as the diamond of the season, not as the subject of idle gossip, but as a person. “That is a heavy burden to bear,” he says quietly. “Perhaps it is time you allowed yourself a reprieve. Even diamonds require care, lest they lose their brilliance.”
The words settle over you like a balm, and you find yourself holding his gaze longer than propriety might dictate. There is no judgment in his eyes, only understanding. It is both comforting and disarming. Before you can respond, a burst of laughter from a nearby group breaks the spell. You glance away, suddenly aware of your surroundings once more. “You are kind to say so, Your Grace,” you murmur, your voice steadier than you feel.
“I merely speak the truth, Miss Itadori,” he replies, bowing his head slightly.
A pause lingers between you, not uncomfortable but weighty with unspoken thoughts. Finally, he clears his throat, his tone lighter as he says, “Would you care to take a turn about the room? I find the air here grows rather stifling.”
You smile, grateful for the excuse to move. “I would like that very much.”
As he offers his arm, you place your hand lightly upon it, allowing him to guide you into the throng. The music swells once more, and though the room is as noisy and crowded as ever, the world feels a little quieter with Duke Nanami by your side. You can see it—early mornings with Nanami, enjoying gentle banter as he returned your thoughts without any ire, without snark or judgment. Quiet respect and gentle affection filling your days. A life free of chaos, where your worries dissipate into the steady calm of his demeanor. Perhaps this could be happiness. A steady, uncomplicated happiness.
But then you see him.
You abhor your traitorous heart for lurching ever so slightly at the sight of Gojo. He is standing near the edge of the ballroom, the golden light catching on his shock of silver hair as though it had been crafted to draw attention. His smile—always so bright, so effortless—makes the lady beside him laugh. She looks at him with a sultry, yet detached and amused expression, her fan flicking lazily as if to dismiss her own growing interest.
Your chest tightens. You know this scene well. It is one you have observed too many times, and yet you have never been able to steel yourself against the sting it brings. The way he leans ever so slightly toward the lady, as though she were the only person in the room. The way his laughter echoes, a sound full of mirth and mischief, as if he had no weight upon his shoulders.
You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You tell yourself he doesn’t matter.
But then, as though he feels the weight of your gaze, Gojo turns his head. Your pulse quickens as his eyes widen, the usual lazy charm momentarily replaced by something sharper, something you can’t quite place.
First, his gaze lands on your face, his eyes sweeping over it with a quickness that feels like a jolt to your chest. Then, they drop lower, and you feel the heat of his scrutiny settle uncomfortably on your chest. A flicker of something crosses his expression—shock, perhaps, or something else entirely—but before you can decipher it, his gaze moves again, lower still, to where your hand rests upon the Duke’s arm.
It is subtle, the way his jaw tightens. The way his smile falters, only to return a moment later, forced and brittle. He shifts his weight, turning back toward the lady at his side, but not before you catch the way his fingers twitch at his side.
You force yourself to look away, to focus instead on Duke Nanami’s steady presence beside you. He has not noticed the exchange—or if he has, he is far too polite to show it.
And yet, the moment lingers. Gojo’s image burns in your mind like the fading glow of a candle, stubbornly refusing to extinguish. You loathe the way your heart betrays you, its treacherous rhythm quickened not by the Duke’s calm assurance, but by the mere sight of a man who has always been more trouble than he’s worth.
Nanami’s voice cuts through your tumultuous thoughts, soft and grounding. “You seem distracted, Miss Itadori,” he remarks, his gaze kind but curious.
You manage a small smile, tightening your grip on his arm as though it might anchor you. “Not at all, Your Grace. Perhaps just…overwhelmed by the crowd.”
He nods, accepting your answer without pressing further. “Understandable. These gatherings can be rather tiresome.”
“Yes,” you murmur, casting one last glance in Gojo’s direction before forcing your focus back to the Duke. “Tiresome indeed.”
But even as you walk beside Nanami, his presence a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the evening, you cannot help but feel the weight of Gojo’s lingering gaze, the memory of his startled expression etched into your thoughts like a brand. You cannot help but observe the situation. Tonight, you would be ending the night on Duke Nanami’s arm, and Gojo with another woman.
Is this not what you both wanted?
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Today, it seems that the usual trio at White’s is only a duo. The blonde and raven head swirl their alcohol in their shimmering glasses while sharing a comfortable silence. That is, until one interrupts.
“How do we know we’re not simply toying with her?” The blonde man’s voice is steady but tinged with unease, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glances toward his companion. “It would not be honorable of me to pursue Miss Itadori under the pretense of riling Gojo, as you seem intent on doing—”
“Kento!” The raven-haired man—Lord Geto—throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and unapologetically amused. He leans forward slightly, propping his elbow on the armrest, as his grin widens. “So confident in your lady-pleasing and romancing abilities, aren’t you?” Nanami’s frown deepens, but Geto merely waves him off, his laughter subsiding to a mischievous chuckle. “No, no—don’t worry. You misunderstand me. This isn’t about Miss Itadori falling for you, though,” he smirks, “I’m sure you’d manage well enough.” His tone is teasing, but his words lack any true malice.
“Then what is it about?” Nanami’s voice carries a note of exasperation, though he remains as composed as ever, swirling his drink in quiet contemplation.
Geto straightens, a glint of something sharper flashing in his dark eyes. “It’s about them. They’re idiots, Kento—idiots in love, the both of them. And it is our duty, as Satoru’s friends,” he pauses, meeting Nanami’s gaze with deliberate emphasis, “to help him realize what he truly desires.”
Nanami snorts, setting his glass down with a muted clink. “You just want to toy with them, to orchestrate the ton and its leading source of gossip.”
The corner of Geto’s mouth quirks upward in a sly smile, one that practically oozes self-satisfaction. “That, my dear friend,” he says, his voice low and conspiratorial, “I cannot deny.”
They lapse into silence once more, the kind that only years of friendship can create, as the firelight flickers and dances on the walls around them. Nanami tips his glass back, savoring the warmth of the whiskey as he contemplates Geto’s words—and the inevitable chaos that would follow in their wake.
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a/n HEYYY POOKIES IT'S HERE IT'S HERE WHAT DID WE THINK. also here is the bridgerton!gojo playlist if anyone is interested!!! i apologize it is 99% taylor swift but i will be adding more diverse songs
despite the miss itadori hate in recent times our girl is BOUNCING BACKK #mogged i cant wait for her to become even more of a diva in the next few chapterssss!!!! (not rn shes going through her sad girl era or wtvr)
suguru (left) and nanami (right) at this whole drama
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also i hope none of you WHORESSSS simped for geto when we made eye contact with him (im looking at zaynesbathrobe anon and all those anons that are obsessed with bridgerton!geto). stay FOCUSED girls gays and theys
thank you for readinggggg. a hot new bombshell will be entering the villa in the next few chapters can we guess who he is??? hint he has huge tits and smelly balls
comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3
TAGLIST:
@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati
@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs
@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs
@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun
@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1
@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover
@kalulakunundrum @r0ckst4rjk @mo0sin @angelina7890 @jaeminaur
@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco
@fortunatelyfurrygiver @aurora-tiny @gojonegs @luna-v-roiya @xxemmarldxx
@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2
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phsychobanana · 1 year ago
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In your eyes
Pairing: Zuko x Firebender!reader
Summary: When Zuko falls for a member of the gaang, he fears that his mistakes may ruin his chances with them.
Word count: 2.3k
A/n~ I think this is gender neutral? I don't remember putting any specific pronouns, but correct me if i'm wrong. Enjoy!
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Funnily enough, the first time you met Zuko was at the northern water tribe. Two fire benders surrounded by waterbenders during a full moon. Not exactly an ideal situation for any firebender, but you were welcome, whereas Zuko was not.
You were running as fast as you could, your legs carrying you in a speed you didn't know was even possible. Katara was in trouble and the moon was slowly disappearing from the sky, fire nation soldiers were everywhere, the water benders were struggling with the loss of the moon and you were terrified.
"Katara!" You yell to her as you get closer to the girl. She was fighting a boy you had never seen before.
You jump on the boy's back and hold your hand to his throat, heating your palm up slowly.
"I would choose my next move carefully if I were you." You say as Katara puts her own hands to her neck and moves them around trying to mimic an explosion.
Suddenly, the boy moves his hands to your face and you feel a burning swipe across your eyebrow. You let go of him and move your hands to your face, a searing pain on your eyebrow almost making you drop to your knees. Katara rushes to your side in a panic,
You see the boy grab Aang and run off before you could do anything.
"Who was that?" You ask Katara angrily.
"Zuko."
***
Zuko followed you and the gaang around for weeks, those weeks turning into months. And the more he saw you, the more he wanted to see you again.
Unfortunately for him, the more you saw him, the more you wanted to smash his head through a window. But every couple has their problems.
You held a very strong grudge towards him, seeing as your eyebrow had scarred and you now had a line going through your eyebrow and over your eye. It made you angry every time you looked in the mirror.
Unbeknownst to you, Zuko felt absolutely terrible for what he had done. He didn't mean to scar you, he would never wish his fate on anyone. Not even his greatest enemy, which lamentably, happened to be you at the moment.
***
The next memorable time that you saw Zuko was in the crystal cave. You had both been thrown in there as a punishment and you were freaking out. Aang, Katara, and Sokka needed you.
You started hitting the walls, throwing as much fire power at it as possible, you even broke a crystal into one big sharp shard and slammed it against the door repeatedly, but it was no use.
"There's no point in doing that." Zuko says, looking at you with his blazing golden eyes. "We aren't getting out until they want us out."
You just scoff in response, unsure of why he was even talking to you in the first place.
He looks at you when he hears your scoff, "You don't have to be rude."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings by being mean?" You mock him in a baby voice, causing him to roll his eyes.
"What's your problem?" Zuko asks, looking you up and down with pinched eyebrows.
"What is my problem? You're my problem, Zuko. You've been hunting my friends and I for months, you've hurt us -or attempted to- more times than I can count, you gave me this," You point to your scar, making him flinch, "And you have the nerve to ask me what my problem is?" You let out another scoff and turn around, giving him your back.
Zuko looks down at his hands, not knowing what to say. He watches as you light each one of your fingers up like a candle to keep yourself distracted.
He walks over and sits next to you, doing the same with his fingers.
You look at him and roll your eyes.
He smiles softly to himself. You haven't moved away from him, yet.
***
If there had ever been even a sliver of you that had liked him in that cave, it was completely gone now. He had betrayed you that night in the cave and it hurt you.
It was the day of the eclipse and you were running through the underground tunnels, looking for Sokka. As you were running you bumped into something, falling hard to the ground.
"Ow!" A familiar voice huffed as the other person made contact with the ground.
"Zuko?"
He looks up, his hair falling into his eyes. You notice his eyes widen and light up, but just as he goes to say something you lunge at him.
With your hands around his neck, you yell at him through gritted teeth. "I trusted you!"
"I know, I'm sorry." He barely gets the words out, gasping and clawing at your hands.
You let go of him and slam him into the ground hard.
"I swear to the spirits, if you ever try to hurt my friends again I will kill you with my own two hands. No bending, no help, just me and you." You say and walk away to go find Sokka.
Zuko sits there for a moment replaying what you said in his head over again. A small smile spreads across his face and he jumps up, running after you.
***
"You have got to be kidding me!" You yell at your friends. They were letting Zuko, the guy that had tried to kill you and capture Aang on more occasions than you could count, into the group.
"Everyone deserves a second.....or 100th chance, Y/n." Aang says, placing a hand on your shoulder as Zuko takes a step towards you.
You clench your fist defensively, making him put his hands up in defense as he takes another step forward.
"I get why you wouldn't trust me, but I've changed." He says, taking one of your hands in his. You pull away with a hollow laugh and walk away.
"Fine, let this psycho join us. I don't care." You say as you disappear behind a wall.
Zuko looks down with a sigh. "Challenge accepted..." He says under his breath as he thinks of ways to win you over.
***
Two days after Zuko joined the gaang, you were attacked. A pack of firebenders found you, attacking the group. You all paired together, Sokka with Toph, Katara with Aang, and you with Zuko. You had begged Toph to pair with you but Sokka stole her, leaving you with the one person you did not want.
You were back to back, fighting off the soldiers when another fleet arrived. The gaang chose to run, not wanting to be captured. You stayed behind to fight off the rest of the soldiers so the others could get away.
"Y/n come on! Hurry!" Sokka yelled for you as you were running after Appa. A soldier dived at you and their hand grabbed at your ankle, making you tumble to the ground.
"Go!" You yell and Aang pulls Appa out of there. You kick your foot back at the soldier, successfully kicking them in the face. You run off into the forest, You can hear the soldiers running after you as you twist through the trees.
You feel something grab your arm and pull you toward them. Looking up, you see Zuko. He's not looking at you, instead looking at the soldiers running around looking for you. You notice that he pulled you into a clearing hidden by trees and bushes. He places his hand over you mouth as you go to say something.
His adams apple bobs as he swallows harshly, listening and watching for any signs that the soldiers might be headed towards the two of you. After no signs, he looks down at you, finally making eye contact.
His golden eyes shine as he looks at you and he smiles softly.
"Thank you." You say quietly, not wanting to be too loud.
He nods.
"Do you still hate me?" He asks with a barely there smirk.
You shake your head. "I don't think I ever really hated you." He smiles at you. "I just strongly disliked you. It was a very strong dislike. Very strong."
"Okay, I get it."
You laugh softly at his dismissiveness of the subject.
"Do you think I'm still a bad guy?" His voice is quiet. Barely a whisper, but you hear it.
You look at him, he's looking down at the grass, his fingers are playing with each other out of habit, his hair is fallen over his face and covering his eyes. You never quite realized how pretty he was.
"Of course not-" You begin to tell him your answer, but your words are interrupted by yelling.
The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the noises and see your friends running to you.
"There they are!" Katara calls to the others as she makes eye contact with you.
Zuko lets out a frustrated breath at the interruption, but he gets up and dusts off his clothes, offering you his hand.
***
The days after that moment in the woods would replay in your mind every night before you would sleep, every morning when you'd awake, every meal, every training session with Aang and Zuko, every group meeting, every day all day.
You had started watching Zuko more than you would care to admit. The way he tried to make up for all of his past mistakes always seemed to put a smile on your face. He helped Katara in the kitchen when he could, he always made time to talk about weapons with Sokka, he always played games with Toph and Aang, and he was especially trying to make it up to you. Though you didn't notice that part.
He always pulled your chairs out for you, he helped teach you how to control the lightning within you, he even got you flowers one time. Unfortunately the flowers backfired and Appa ended up eating them, sneezing petals for a week.
You were currently training Aang on the beach with Zuko. The sun was blazing down on your back and your cotton shirt was absorbing all of the heat, making you sweat more than you would normally.
You walk over to where Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Suki are sitting, sipping their little coconut drinks as they watch you and Zuko beat the arrows off of Aang.
You take both ends of your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in your shorts and bathing suit top. When you walk back over to the boys you notice how red Zuko's face is.
"You alright over there, Z?" You ask, worried that he might be overworking himself in the heat.
His head snaps to look you in the eyes, his face going an even deeper red.
"Y-yeah, heh. Why wouldn't I be?" He looks around, avoiding looking at you with everything in him.
You decide to ignore his weird reaction to your words and go back to teaching Aang.
"This one is a partner move. So, I'll demonstrate with Zuko and then when you understand how to do it, you can try with him." You explain as you walk over to the spluttering and red as a beet, boy.
You move his hand to your waist and his other in yours, your own face heating up a bit at this position. You then kick his own foot out from underneath him and flip him over your shoulder. You light your hand ablaze and put it near Zuko's neck like one would a sword.
"I thought you said this was a partner move," Zuko groans out.
"Yeah, good guy and bad guy. Partners." You say with a smirk.
"You can do that, right Aang?"
Aang nods his head excitedly.
After another hour or two of flipping Zuko over your shoulders, you all sit down around a camp fire on the beach for dinner. You and Zuko offer to collect the plates and take them back up to the house.
"You did good in training today." He says as he takes the plates from your hands and places them on the counter.
You let out a small laugh.
"Well I would assume I did considering the amount of times I was able to flip you."
He rolls his eyes and you take this moment to admire him.
His hair falls in perfect strands across his forehead, his golden eyes reflect the light of the setting sun peeping through the window, his skin is soft as you place your hand on his.
He looks at you confused when he feels your touch.
"You did good, too." You say softly.
He smiles at this, looking down at your hand that was still on his.
"How do you see me?" He asks, breaking the peaceful silence.
"What do you mean?"
"What am I in your eyes?"
You think for a moment, pondering how your answer.
"You're a person who has made many mistakes." You begin, making his shoulders droop a little bit. "But you are also a person trying to make up for all of those mistakes. You're a kid, a kid who has been through a lot. Yet, you're still sweet and funny and kind and loyal. You try to hide how you feel, but I can still see every emotion you have in your actions. You're trying. And for that, I think you are amazing. That is who you are in my eyes."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, making you feel nervous about how he would react.
With a million thoughts racing through his mind, he decides not to say anything. You said that his actions meant more, so he spoke with an action.
He gently placed his hand on your cheek and leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away at any second. But you don't.
His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his hair tickling your cheek. You smile into his kiss making him smile as well. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him closer as he pulls away from the kiss. You rest you foreheads against each other, catching your breath.
"I think I like you." He says, making you laugh.
"Oh shut up." You say and lean in for another kiss.
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myownwholewildworld · 4 months ago
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THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG ― dbf!mechanic!joel oneshot
series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: dbf!mechanic!joel x f!reader. summary: your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it? a/n: well, well, well... what can i say? this whole uniformed!joel shit is giving me proper brain rot. i don't know what came over me while writing this but i just rolled with it. i do appreciate any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated hehe. enjoy! x edit: forgot to mention this oneshot was prompted by this ask! warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. juicy age gap (reader is 21, joel is 48). rough, ABSOLUTE filth & i'm not even sorry. some edging. semi-public groping? masturbation (f and m receiving). oral (f and m receiving). pussy pronouns (she/her). unprotected piv. mouth fucking. very mild brat taming kink. transactional sex. alternating pov. reader is female but that's about it. w/c: ~8.9k of pure filth. divider by @cafekitsune
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“Ugh, not again, c’mon!”
Your cranky little car did not have it in it anymore. It was almost fifteen years old now, having passed down from your older brother to you when you turned sixteen five years ago. Out of pure frustration, you hit the steering wheel with the palm of your hand and let out a raspy grunt.
The check engine light had lit up on the dash, which was what caused your fit. And then, as if orchestrated by the universe, the engine made a loud, clicking noise. You flattened your forehead against the wheel, your fingers curling around the rubbery texture with a tight grip.
“You stupid car!”, you screamed at it as if it was a sentient being. “I’m broke, you cannot die on me like this!”
You were on the parking lot of a café. Early that afternoon you had met with some friends to celebrate the beginning of summer and the end of the academic year. One more and you would be done with your degree ― it looked so damn far away, but you still had this summer to look forward to.
Rummaging through your purse, you finally located your cellphone and quickly dialled your dad.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, dad. I’m at Betty’s. The fucking light has come on again?!”
“Watch your mouth!”, he reprimanded you from the other side of the line. You could hear him huff and puff with disapproval. “I think your car is on its last legs, gonna have to think about buying one.”
“You know I can’t afford that, all my savings are going into my degree. I’ll just have to get it fixed for now.”
“Take it to Joel’s then. See what he thinks.”
“But it’s a Sunday, you think he’ll be open?”
“That man is a workaholic, you bet his business is open today.”
“Alright, you reckon he’ll do it for free?”
“For free?” He laughed; you could imagine him shaking his head. “I doubt it, but maybe he’ll give you a discount. Gotta go, little bug. I’ll see you at dinner. If you can make it, obviously.” He mocked you.
“Ha, ha… So funny. Talk to you later.” And you hung up.
The drive to Joel’s garage was a fucking torture. Every time the engine made a squealing noise, your heart would jolt to your throat. You tried to encourage it, whispering sweet nothings in the hopes it would get appeased and make it to Joel’s repair shop.
You also got distracted by your filthy mind. Joel had been in your DILF radar since you were nineteen. Three years ago, your dad celebrated his 45th birthday with a barbecue in the middle of summer. Joel had turned up in a white tee shirt, khaki shorts and flipflops, with untamed silvery curls and a crate of beer under his arm.
When the Texan heat became unbearable, he had stripped himself of his clothes, fashioning a pair of short swim trunks that had left you breathless and wet. When you watched him get out of the water later that afternoon, you could have sworn that the tip of his dick had shown briefly before he discreetly tucked it away. That image had been burnt into your retinas and haunted you since then.
Unconsciously you licked your bottom lip, your core molten with slick, as the car came to a halt. You had arrived at your destination.
There was an old Ford at the front of the garage, someone working under the hood. When the driver’s door of your car slammed against the frame, Joel peeked up from the engine he was working on.
His eyes flickered with recognition. He grabbed an old rag to clean his big, veiny hands of grease and oil. You wondered what else would be big and veiny. Stop it, you dirty fucker, you told yourself.
“Hey, Joel!” You waved at him with a smile.
“What’s up, kiddo?”
You rolled your eyes at him, the grin staying on your plump lips.
“I’m not a kid anymore, Joel. Have not been for a long time now, y’know.” You punctuated, unsure of what you were trying to achieve with that comment. Well, you knew, but did not want to admit it to yourself.
“Oh, I know”, he husked, his voice suddenly gruff.
Tilting your head to one side, you looked at him with question marks in your pupils. Why had he accentuated that “know”? And why all the sudden was your cunt gushing? How could he make you wet with three simple words? You were going to need to request a booty call that night from your friend with benefits.
“Uh, uhmm”, you laughed nervously. “The engine light on my car has come on for the third time this week and the motor is making weird noises, could you check it out for me, please?”
“Sure thing, lemme see.” He took the keys from your hand, electricity cracking between you.
You pursed your lips, a gesture he did not pick up on. Joel walked to the driver’s side, activated something and then the hood popped open. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood up with the metal rod that was inside.
As Joel was inspecting the motor with his broad hands, you put one foot in front of the other in a vain attempt to rub your knees together and cause some friction in your needy cunt. You squeezed your thighs some more as you watched him work with his hands, and you imagined what it would feel like if he was working you instead.
Oof! Take it down a notch, girl, you thought to yourself when your clit twitched in desperation.
Then Joel turned around to look at you.
“When was the last time you changed the timing belt?”
“The... what now?” Your mind was hazy with lust, but even if you had been at your full mental capacity, you wouldn’t have known what he was talking about.
“The timing belt. In the engine. What ensures that the camshaft and crankshaft rotate in sync?” He looked at you with a cocked brow, cleaning his hands again on that old rag.
Oh, I would pay big bucks to be that rag.
“Are you even speaking English?”, you replied back, partially because you really had no idea what he was talking about, partially because your brain was all mushy with desire.
“I’ll take that as a ‘never’ then. You should really get it replaced, seems like that’s your problem. Have you had trouble starting the car?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, this very morning.”
“Yeah, sounds like it. You need to change it asap, if it breaks while you’re driving it would be bad, very bad. You could have an accident. Also trying to fix it after it’s broken will cost you even more.”
“So… will I need to break the bank?” You asked, already flinching at the idea.
Joel seemed to take a second to consider your options, leaning against the passenger’s door and scratching his scruffy beard.
“It’ll be $800.”
Your heart almost stopped, your mouth agape.
“Eight fucking hundred?” He nodded. “Well, can I― Can you not give me a bit of a discount here? You are best friends with my dad. Pretty please?” You laced your fingers together in a prayer and batted your eyelashes at him.
With a low grunt, he straightened his back and folded arms at his chest.
“I’m already giving you one. I would usually charge $1100. You’re already getting a bargain.”
“Well, what about $300?” You counteroffered.
Joel’s brows knitted together and then loudly scoffed.
“What? You think I’m a fucking charity? No, kiddo. $800 and that’s it. If I go any lower, I’d be losing money. Got a business to run here.”
You really did not have $800 bucks to spare. In fact, you barely had five hundred bucks to your name. Asking your family for money was not an option either ― not because you were proud (you were), but because money was tight. Your parents already had enough struggles as it was, you did not want to add to the pile.
You visibly pouted and stumped one foot against the gravel, vexed. A loud sigh slipped through your lips as you pressed the heel of your hands against your eye sockets. You needed the car.
Dropping your hands to your sides, you looked at Joel with puppy eyes, covering the distance that was between you. Pleading, you palmed his strong forearm, your fingers wrapping around the girth of his muscles.
For a brief second, you wondered if you would be able to fully grip his erection. Would your fingertips be able to touch your thumb? Or would he be so thick you would need both hands to handle him?
“Joel, pl―please?”, you stammered, your arousal playing games with your vocal cords.
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Unwillingly, he scanned your body up and down ― slowly, taking his time, pondering his options.
Joel had wanted to fuck you for three years now, since your lustful eyes widened at the sight of only his tip on that dreadful summer day. He could vividly remember the way you had chewed your bottom lip as you watched him slide his cock back in his swim trunks, shamelessly, without blinking. You only stopped devouring him when someone talked to you, snapping out of your trance.
That night, when he got home, he had jerked himself off with you in his mind. He had imagined your plump lips sealed around his glans, the tip of your tongue playfully caressing the slit ― your sparkly eyes looking up at him, dreamy and teary, imploring. He had taken his sweet time, rejoicing in his fantasy, until he had spilled in the palm of his hand, as if he was a hormonal teenager. And every time he would fuck someone to find relief, he would visualize your cunt sheathing him, clamping down on his dick like a beartrap.
Ever since then, every time his eyes landed on you, his blood would boil and his cock would harden. Just like now, dick pounding against his boxers, begging to be paid due attention. With the eyes of his imagination, he saw himself letting go and throwing you into the back of your car, drilling your pussy relentlessly until you came wailing, asking for more.
Joel sucked in his breath ― he needed to calm down, distract himself with something else. You were his best friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be daydreaming about fucking you stupid. He had seen you grow since you were a babe.
Never thought of you any other way until that fateful barbeque, when he realised you were a full grown ass woman. Suddenly he had seen you for what you were: a fuckable brat who could get his cock rock-hard with the simple lick a of a lip.
An idea formed as you begged him. You looked desperate ― desperate enough to him at least.
Joel cracked his tongue, his expression unwavering. But if you could see, you would know his cock was throbbing already.
“Well. I do have an idea.” His words dragged, his erection making him feel uncomfortable.
“You do? I’m all ears!” You exclaimed with a lopsided grin, your delicate fingers tighter around his forearm.
His head snapped to his right, pointing to a sign that read “Hand Car Wash”.
“If you help out all summer handwashing cars, I’ll consider part of your debt paid”, he explained, looking down at your hand touching him.
“In full?” You eyed him as if he was your goddamn saviour and that unsettled him.
“I said part of it, kiddo. I’ll leave it at $300.”
You batted your eyelashes at him. Did you know that your suggestiveness was wreaking havoc?
“Anything I can do so the $300 reduces to zero?”
“I’ll think about it”, he reluctantly conceded. Joel had a few ideas in mind, but none of them were precisely appropriate. Not for a twenty-one year old to do with a forty-eight year old at least, that was for sure. “Be here tomorrow at 9 AM, sharp. The team works from nine to twelve, Mondays to Fridays.”
You frantically nodded, almost squealing in excitement. The noise you made forced his cock to twitch. He could make you squeal too, only if you would let him.
“I’ll be here! Thanks, Joel.”
Before he could think, you let go of his forearm and hugged him close to your chest. To your round breasts. Those two meaty globes he wanted to palm so badly. He could swear your nipples were stabbing at him. You embraced him so close to your body, his bulge pressed gently against your lower belly, and he wondered if you could feel him.
And then you stepped back. Quickly, too quickly for his liking.
“You’ll need to leave your car here, don’t want you driving back in that junk. I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift back”, he offered. “Lemme close first and I’ll be right back in five minutes.”
“No probs, take your time.” You smiled at him as you went back to your car to grab your things.
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Soon you were on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s pickup truck. It was dusking on the horizon, the light scattering through the windshield. Joel put down the visor so he wouldn’t get blinded by the sun.
“So how’s college going?” His attempt at small talk made you smile.
“It’s good, hard but good. The first year was really bad though. I didn’t know anyone there, so had to make friends and everything.” You mentioned, shrugging, while mindlessly playing with your seatbelt.
“I’m sure you had no problems making friends”, Joel said distractedly, checking all the mirrors before turning at the streetlight.
You placed your elbow on the window frame, the back of your head resting on your palm, and you turned to look at him.
“How are you so sure?” You asked, curious to see what his take on you was. The man was like a brick wall.
“You’re so vivacious and talkative. You’re not the shy kind either, always were part of the popular group in high school, weren’t you?” You nodded, but he didn’t see you, all focused on the road ahead. “Bet’cha you have all the boys running after you.”
Well, that was unexpected. For both you and him, because you saw how his jaw clenched. It was almost imperceptible, but you were so aware of his every move, your body so in tune with his, you couldn’t have missed it.
Had he noticed you? Like, actually? Was it possible that Joel fucking Miller, your freaking dad’s best friend, could look at you with other than paternal eyes? Why would he make hat comment otherwise?
Your cunt, still wet from your previous innocent interaction, fluttered. You had no butterflies in your stomach ― they were actually clapping their fragile wings in between your legs. This man was a fucking menace to your senses, and he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you. Or did he? Time to find out.
You giggled at his question and patted his upper thigh a couple of times, as if he had cracked the best joke you had ever heard. The pad of your fingers almost caressed his groin, that sweet dip where his thigh met his pelvis. The denim under your touch suddenly stretched as Joel flexed his leg, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built up.
You bit your bottom lip as he peered at you askance, your hand still too close to his crotch.
“I actually do, but none of them seem good enough, y’know? I want a man, not a boy”, you ventured, your top teeth sinking further in the soft pillow of your bottom lip.
You saw Joel sucking in his breath ― and the grin in your face grew. He was definitely not immune to you, at least not as much as you had originally thought. He looked so unattainable, always so distant, you had wondered if, in his eyes, you had never grown up.
“Do you now, kiddo?” He asked between gritted teeth, tone throaty.
His brown eyes drifted down for one second, watching the tips of your fingers rubbing the denim of his jeans slightly, and then he locked them back on the road. You heard a low grunt vibrating in his throat, although he tried his best to suppress it.
“Yeah. I’m sick and tired of stupid childish boys. They are just boring now, they lack― well, you know.” You let him brew with your unfinished sentence and removed your hand from his lap.
You could tell Joel finally was able to breathe again as his chest expanded slowly. His reaction to you left a prickling sensation in your pussy ― wet, throbbing, needy. You pressed your knees together, but what you really wanted was for him to reach for you and dunk his thick fingers in your slit.
“Your dad’s there.” He stated, succinct, after clearing his throat.
You looked over your shoulder and through the window to realise that, in fact, you had arrived home. Your father was already waiting for you on the porch, probably because he recognised the noise of Joel’s truck’s exhaust pipe. And then he started walking towards you.
You suppressed a pouting grimace ― you wanted just a few more minutes alone with Joel. A few more moves and, who knew? Maybe you would have him fingering the shit out of you. But thanks to your father, you would never find out.
Your father knocked on the passenger’s window and you rolled it down, smiling. Although what you really wanted to do was smack him for interrupting.
“Hey, dad.”
“Hey, sweetie. How’s the car?”
“Well…” You looked at Joel ― you had already forgotten what was it that needed replacing.
“The timing belt is going. Bit expensive but your daughter and I have reached an agreement. Will reduce the price for her but she’s gotta come work on the hand-wash business”, he explained, matter-of-factly.
“Sounds ‘bout right. Get your first taste of what the real world is like.” Your dad laughed at his own occurrence, while your mind drifted far, very far.
“I’d love to get a taste.” You answered feigning innocence, turning your face to Joel with a very wide smile painted on your mouth.
His eyes darkened, transfixed on yours. Oh, he knew exactly what you meant. He subtly stirred on his seat and you wanted to giggle so bad, but refrained.
“Hey, Joel. There’s a game on tomorrow night. You wanna come over? Can have something to eat, few beers, will be fun. I need the company, God knows this lady over here just complains while scrolling through her social media”, he pointed towards you with his thumb and you simply rolled your eyes at him.
Watching football with your old man was as boring as it got. However, if Joel Miller was there, he would have your undivided attention. Well, not him, the screen, obviously. Duh.
Your eyes shot to his, expectant. Your cunt was even more anticipative of his answer.
“Yeah, why not?”
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Famous last words. That was Joel’s only thought as soon as he entered his best friend’s home. You greeted him at the door, all smiley and welcoming, ignoring the fact that you had been trying to get him hard the. whole. fucking. day.
You had come to work with some very short jeans ― every time you bent down to rub the sponge on the car’s bodywork, the bottom part of your perfectly round ass cheeks would show beneath the denim. Did you even wear any underwear? He thought not.
And then that white crop top was the fucking end of him. You had gotten it all wet when a loaded sponge dripped all over your front while you were talking to him about some trivial thing he could no longer remember. You had tittered and apologised while you scrunched it to get as much water out as possible. And the only thing he had been able to focus on were your pointy nipples, staring right at him, screaming for his caress.
After that, he had been at full mast the whole damn shift.
“Hi, Joel, come in!” You greeted him excitedly, swinging the door open.
He had taken a cold shower before coming over, but maybe what he needed was a fucking ice bath. Because the moment you batted your eyelashes at him, his cock twitched again. Joel had fisted his dick while showering, in the hopes that emptying his nuts before seeing you again would placate his lust for you.
Nope, hadn’t worked. Not one bit. This was probably a bad idea.
“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted you, emphasizing the last word.
He could literally be your fucking father, but that did not seem to deter you. If anything, it spurred you on. Had you no shame? Had he no shame? Because he should have stopped you the moment you started to be suggestive. Instead, he had let you go on, enjoying every single second of it.
Joel walked in and made his way to the kitchen, with you on his heels, where your father was lathering up some ribs with his secret sauce recipe.
“Hey, Joel. Let me get that from you”, he said before cleaning his hands on a kitchen towel and grabbing the beer crate from him.
Feeling they were still cold, his best friend cracked two open and handed him one. Joel lifted the can to his lips and saw you looking at him from the corner of his eye.
“Want one?” he asked, since you were of legal drinking age.
You shook your head no, wrinkling your nose in disgust.
“Eww, nah. I hate beer”, you sniggered and his dick spasmed some more.
“‘Course you do”, said your father before he could reply. “You only drink― What’s that crap again?”
“Gin and tonic, dad. It’s literally gin and tonic mixed. It’s not that fancy.” You huffed and puffed, shaking your head.
“This youth mixing everything because they can’t have proper alcohol. What’s next? Mixing beer with lemonade or something like that?”
“Well, that’s actually a thing. It’s called a shandy. Don’t be so old.”
Joel let you two have a go at each other. Observing the exchange, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the island, knees slightly bent.
“What?! You listening to this, Joel?” You father exclaimed with a joking tone. “Is Sarah like this too?”
“Yeah, exactly like this. Thinks beer is disgusting and everything. Thought I raised her better than that, but apparently not.” He jested, sipping from the tin can.
“How’s she doing?” His friend asked.
“She’s fine. She’s turning twenty-four in a couple of weeks. She moved out two months ago, gone to Houston for her new job.” He couldn’t help but be proud of his Sarah. She had accomplished so much. “She’s supposed to be here for her birthday, but we’ll see. She’s always so busy, don’t really know with what.”
“Aren’t they all? I barely see this one over here and she still lives under my roof.”
You folded arms, rolling your eyes again, while you sat down beside Joel on another stool.
“Sorry for having a social life? Like, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you watching football? Got better things to do, dad.”
“So you ain’t staying tonight then?” Your dad asked.
Joel turned to study you, interested in your answer. Could he have some reprieve tonight?
“Of course I’m stayin’. Would be rude not to when we have guests over, right, Joel?” And as the last words abandoned your mouth, you placed your left hand on his right thigh under the counter.
God have mercy.
Joel’s muscles stiffened, one in particular more than the others. His thighs were tense as he gripped the beer can with more strength than what was necessary. He kept his eyes to the front, taming his breathing.
He should have done something, slapping your hand away from his lap for instance. But he didn’t. And you took that as an invitation, because soon enough you were kneading his bulge under the kitchen island. Your palm rubbed harshly against the denim, and he saw you chewing your bottom lip.
Your father busied himself with seasoning the ribs and the French fries, oblivious to what was happening just a few meters away from him. This feels fucking wrong, but so fucking good, Joel thought to himself, your hand frisking his groin brazenly.
His cock was thudding with desire under his clothing, begging to be freed from its prison. You sensed his desperation, because you quickly tried to clasp your hand around it. Feeling your frustration at the inability of fisting him properly, Joel parted his legs to give you better access. If that was not an open invitation, nothing was.
I’m already going to hell. Joel had to stop himself of sucking his breath in when you started to unzip his jeans. His eyes slightly widened, but that was his only tell.
“So who do you reckon is going to win tonight?” Your father asked as your fingers dipped underneath his boxers.
Your warm skin against his beating cock dulled his senses. Then you took his dick out of his boxers and attempted to circle his girth while working him. Joel had to drink from his beer to shut himself up.
“Not sure, but I’d like for the Longhorns to win”, he spat the words out as best he could given the circumstances.
“Yeah, would be nice seeing our hometown win something this season”, your father continued with the small talk.
Joel’s thighs flexed when you started pumping him decisively. Fuck. He briefly looked down at his erection. It felt too damn good, your tiny fingers gripping him hard as you slowly moved your hand up and down on his lap. The tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you expertly rubbed it on his foreskin with your thumb.
As your father turned around to put everything in the oven, Joel took the chance to look at you. With your gaze averted, you pretended there was something interesting in the wall in front of you, while your right hand was buried underneath your slutty denim shorts. Joel could swear he could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making while you played with yourself.
“Right, I think this is it. Gotta wait for an hour until everything’s properly cooked. Wanna move to the family room in the meantime?” He happily chattered as he walked around the kitchen island.
You reacted quickly and let go of his shaft. With his lap right under the kitchen counter, Joel hoped to hell his friend would not see anything out of the ordinary.
“Yeah”, he said with a coarse voice. “Need to go to the bathroom first.”
Your father just nodded as he sauntered towards the living room and Joel almost let go a sigh of relief. You simply chortled as you put your left thumb in your mouth, making it obvious that you were tasting his precum.
Joel’s cock jerked on his lap as he whispered a blasphemy. Quickly he tucked away his painful dick back in his boxers and zipped his jeans as he stood up. Then he retreated to the bathroom, needing a fucking moment to find his composure again.
Until he heard you.
“Gonna go get my phone charger, be back in a jiffy!”
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Before Joel could close the door behind him, you slipped your hand in the door gap to stop him from shutting it. You caught him off guard, because he stepped back, brows knitting when he saw you under the door frame.
“What’cha doing?”, he questioned you.
You could feel the rigidity radiating from him. You entered the small bathroom and silently closed the door behind you, both of your hands holding onto the doorknob on your back.
“I came to finish what I started.”
You didn’t give him time to think ― if you did, you knew he would put an end to this. You were too turned on, your cunt beating every time your heart did. Your pussy lips were all wet and puffy ― you could feel your slick trapped between your folds, almost seeping into your panties. You had unleashed the beast and wanted it all for yourself.
So you threw yourself into Joel’s chest, your teeth softly scratching his Adam’s apple as one of your hands found its way back to his cock. He tilted his chin up and groaned at your touch. His pounding dick felt warm and velvety against your palm, so hard from working him under the kitchen counter a minute before.
Once he opened his eyes again, he looked down at you as you gripped his erection with both hands. Slowly you jerked him off, feeling powerful with him on the palm of your hands. Every time you pumped him, your clit would twitch in response. He had not touched you yet and your pussy was already palpitating for him. You could not wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.
 “We shouldn’t, your father is right there―”
You could not care less. And to make it evident, you sunk to your knees in front of him, still holding his cock, now at eye level.
Your tongue darted out and you leaned his dick forward until the tip rested flat against your tongue, your hands still working his veiny shaft.
“You were saying?” You asked before briefly pecking his glans.
“Fuck”, was the only thing he managed to mumble.
That was your cue to give free rein to your lust. You nudged his column with the tip of your nose as your mouth drifted down to kiss his balls. Then your tongue slid out in its full extension, and you flattened it against the underside of his cock, slowly lapping at it until you reached the top and sealed your lips around his mushroom head.
Glancing up at him, you saw pleasure softening his features as you took him in further and further down, until his cock reached the natural resistance at the end of your throat. When his tip bottomed out in your mouth, Joel’s eyes found yours. His jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cock burrowed in between your lips, tears gathering on your bottom eyelids because of how his dick was outstretching you.
You moaned as Joel pulled his hips back, his shaft leaving your wet cavity, now full of precum and saliva. You swallowed to make room as you avidly tipped your head towards him, your lips hunting down his dick again. Slurping so you wouldn’t drown in fluids, you ate his cock like if it was the last edible thing on earth.
At that moment, something shifted in the air. As if Joel, finally, let go of his prejudices and accepted what you were giving him: your mouth to use as he pleased. His fingers hovered over your temples and then they clamped down on your skull as he held you in place.
“Stay still”, he commanded, and you nodded, his cock sitting snugly in your mouth.
His hips moved back and then forward, rocking his dick in and out of your lips. First slow, then picking up a pace. You stayed put throughout while he fucked your mouth mercilessly, palms against your knees like the good girl you were. Then his glans breached your uvula and you inevitably gagged at the intrusion.
He forced you to remain still as he tried to go further down, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your eyes welled up while you fought back the need to cough, almost unable to breathe.
Joel snapped his hips back and your mouth became free. You started panting while trying to catch a breath. Joel cupped your chin up so you would look at him. His sly grin told you he was enjoying himself a bit too much.
“Can tell you’ve not eaten many cocks, have you? Despite pretending to be this slutty brat in front of everyone, hm?” He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.
“Well, I―” He didn’t let you finish the sentence because as soon as you opened your mouth, he slotted his dick back in between your plump lips.
“I actually don’t wanna hear it.”
Inevitably your cunt gushed at his roughness. He was right though ― you had only given head to two guys before and their cocks did not measure up to his. Your jaw had actually started to hurt now due to the effort you were making to house his dick in your mouth.
Joel quickly resumed his pounding, fucking your mouth relentlessly ― his hips swaying back and forth in front of you.
“Sweetie! Can you bring my charger too please?” Your father’s question forced both of you to snap out of the sexual haziness you both were feeling.
You two froze in place, Joel’s cock still in your mouth.
“Or I can come get it.” Then you heard his booted steps coming up the corridor.
In a panic, Joel stumbled back and you sprang to your feet, eyes widened with fear.
“No! Don’t worry! I’m coming!” You shouted back, hoping that your voice sounded far away enough to him.
The steps stopped and you both listened to him walking back to the living room. “Thank you, sweetie!”
You turned to look at Joel, who had grabbed a bunch of toilet roll to clean off the mess on his still throbbing cock.
“Joel, I’m sorry, b―”
“Just go before he changes his mind and comes looking for you”, his voice was strained with effort. His erection had to be painful by now without any relief.
But he was right. You couldn’t risk it. Neither of you could. So with apologetic eyes, you slithered out the bathroom door and ran to your room to snatch a couple of phone chargers.
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Fucking torture that was.
Joel had never been in a worse position than that. Sat on the couch with you, your father on the recliner just a couple of meters away ― and his dick still pulsating, his balls full of unspent cum. His cock would writhe in his boxers, asking for a relief that never came. He was in excruciating pain and was not able to concentrate at all. All the small talk your father did went over his head, didn’t pay attention to the TV’s commentary either.
From time to time, you would graze his thigh lightly ― and on one occasion you slid your naughty hand towards his groin. Luckily the living room was dark, the TV being the only source of light, so your father didn’t pay much attention to your provocations. You quietly kneaded his bulge, curling your fingers around his erection underneath, and it got to a point where Joel had to force your hand away, because he was too close to coming.
So, when he waved you both goodbye and got into his truck, he could literally not wait to get home. Under the dim light of the lampposts that filtered through the windows into the truck’s cabin, Joel freed his aching dick and fisted it from the base. With his head tilted back against the headrest, he furiously jerked off ― fast and with no measure, to the point it was almost hurting. Tension built up from his nuts upwards and when Joel finally got relief, he groaned audibly as his cum spurted out in white, thick streaks.
With a heavy sigh and some laboured breathing, he opened his eyes, looking for some tissues to clean the mess on his lap. As he was putting his cock back in his boxers, something caught his attention.
The darkness camouflaged you well, but he spotted you on the window of your room, watching him eagerly with half-lidded eyes and chewing your bottom lip. Then your head leaned forward, your chin almost touching your chest, and Joel suddenly understood what was happening. You had been touching yourself while observing him do the same thing, until you orgasmed too.
Your eyes locked on each other’s through the blackness, something dark and perverted floating in the atmosphere. The whole thing felt wrong. The right kind of wrong.
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The next week had been a continuous dance between the two of you. You too suggestive, him too evasive. After you had seen him wanking in his car, you had thought you had him under your spell. He had looked like a damn teenager chasing his release, unable to contain it much longer.
But you couldn’t blame him ― you had had him on edge for almost five hours. First touching him under the counter, then sucking his dick in the bathroom, and finally kneading him on the couch with your dad only two meters away.
It all had affected you too, because as soon as you had scurried away to your room and had looked out the window, you fingered yourself with your eyes locked on him. You came so hard, that you had to steady yourself on the windowsill, trembling knees and all. And once the orgasm softened its grip on you, you had realised he had been watching you as you rode the last wave of your climax.
So yes, for a week you tried to seduce him again, because you needed to know how it all ended. Having him burrowed down to your guts was a necessity now. However, it got to a point where you almost gave up ― it was draining having to follow him around like a bitch in heat. You still had one ace up your sleeve though. One that you hoped to play this afternoon. Because if you didn’t fuck him today, you were going to lose your shit.
You focused on your task, which was rubbing the soaked sponge on the bodywork of the car. Two other people were doing the same thing on the back, while you were slightly bent over the hood trying to reach the middle. Your breasts brushed against the metalwork, your white tank top completely wet with soapy water, almost transparent now. The coldness was refreshing in the asphyxiating Texan heat and your nipples especially welcomed it, wrinkling tightly and showing through the fabric.
When you straightened, you caught a glimpse of Joel eyeing you intently. But you pretended you didn’t ― maybe you needed to play difficult, show him no interest. Reverse psychology. So for the rest of your shift you just ignored him, fully conscious of how his sight followed you at all times. Let him brew.
Joel didn’t say a word though, didn’t come close to you either. But you heard him wicker while you were openly teasing one of your teammates. Were you trying to make him jealous? Absolutely. So, you giggled and played with your hair at the tasteless joke your colleague told you. It wasn’t funny, but you wanted Joel to listen to your flirting.
Midday came around and the other two people working on the hand wash business said their goodbyes. Joel employed a father and son in the shop too, who left the garage to go home for lunch. And then it was only you and Joel left. Just as you had planned.
“Joel? Can you help me with this, please?” You politely asked him after lifting a bucket full of water up to your chest.
You took a couple of steps forward and the water spilt all over, soaking your shirt completely.
“Shit”, you heard him say under his breath, jogging towards you.
He slipped his arms underneath the bucket to release you from its weight and then placed it back down between both of you.
“What are you doing? You’re gonna hurt your back with such terrible manual handling.” He reprimanded you, tutting.
“Something hurts and it’s not my back, Joel.” You muttered, your fingers wrapping around his wrist to haul him closer to you.
You were done with subtlety. You guided his hand to your pussy and pressed it gently.
“Hurts right here.” The low, needy mumble poured from your lips like honey.
Joel’s eyes squinted just a tad, and his nostrils flared. You saw the inner battle in his chocolate eyes, and you fucking hoped he lost.
Soon you had the answer you had been looking for. The palm of his hand flattened against your crotch, holding you possessively, and pulled you against his broad chest. You couldn’t help but moan when your breasts pressed against him, your taut nipples aching with sensitivity.
“You’re so fucking nasty, kiddo. Been watching you all week, trying to get me hard all over again, haven’t you?” You shyly nodded, biting down your bottom lip as you glanced up at him, his palm rubbing your cunt with determination. “Of course you have, you’re so cock drunk. You loved sucking me, didn’t you?”
You shook your head yes, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. You whimpered when his thumb burrowed in your pants, trying to find your slit over all that clothing unsuccessfully.
“Joel, please.” You begged for mercy, for relief, for something ― anything he could give you, you would take.
“You want me to fuck you, kiddo?” His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up, while his thumb kept nudging your damp slit. His mouth hovered over yours as you simply nodded again. “Hm? You want me to destroy your pussy?”
“Yes, yes, YES.” You were already gushing at his dirty talk.
With no more prodding, Joel bowed down and sunk his tongue in your mouth, darting in with the ferocity only a man on the edge could feel. He swept your entire cavity in an open-mouth kiss that left your knees shaking and your pussy throbbing. You moaned into his breath and your tongue lapped at his, the span on his fingers gently covering your neck and squeezing lightly.
Joel’s hand between your legs moved to your ass, pressing you into him. His swollen lump poked at your lower belly intimately and you couldn’t resist the urge to dip your hand in his boxers. He audibly groaned as you attempted to circle his whole girth and failed. Just like a week before, you would need both of your hands around his shaft to properly grip him. You pumped him once, very slow, your hand gliding down till it found his balls.
Joel grunted in the middle of the sloppy kiss and pushed you to go backwards until your body met the back of his pickup truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway. Out of prying eyes, you hoped. Not that you cared that much at this precise moment, anyway.
His beard scratched the skin on your cheek as his lips drifted down to your neck. You looked up to the clear sky before you closed your eyes, giving his pulsing cock a light squeeze that snatched a moan out of him.
Without warning, Joel broke the messy kiss and knelt before you, his hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts with no difficulty. Soon your pants were around your ankles, your panties quickly following, leaving you naked from the waist down. Joel helped you take them off but left your tennis on.
Still on his knees, he peeked up with a devilish smile, then leaned forward and lapped at your mound. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as your fingers raked his salt and pepper curls. The tip of his tongue brushed the point where your slit started and then licked upwards, his tongue skidding through your skin until it reached your belly button.
You pursed your lips, wanting him to go down, not up. In fact, you pushed him down ever so slightly and the cold of his breath against your wet skin when he laughed made you look down, frustrated.
He kissed the beginning of your slit again and when you thought he was going in, he stopped. You whimpered, thwarted, as he got back up to his feet and towered above you.
“You want me to touch you where it hurts, hm?” He questioned with his lips ghosting yours. “Your pussy? That’s where?”
Not waiting for your reply, his index dunked in your pearly furrow and traced it in its entirety, from your quivering hole to your thumping clit. And then he did it again, for good measure.
“You’re soaking, kiddo. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping.” To emphasize his words, Joel suddenly dived his finger in your opening, a squelching sound making it obvious that you were, in fact, dripping. “You hear that?” He forced his finger out and then back in, the wet, sucking noise even louder this time.
You frantically nodded as he fingered you, his thumb caressing your begging clit as he did. You mewled into his chest, eyes shut, trying to calm the fluttering of your inner walls around his lonely finger. Lonely not for long, because Joel then introduced a second. You held onto his sides, his tee shirt scrunching in your fists, the orgasm building up.
“C’mon, squeeze your cunt for me. Show me how tight you are”, he whispered in your ear as his relentless fingering picked up a faster pace between your legs.
You happily obliged and squashed your walls together around his fingers as he dextrously stroked your g-spot. All of a sudden, a firing sensation built in your clit without warning and the haziness of pleasure took over your senses abruptly. You came hard, very hard, wailing his name as he kept on fingering you until the last wave of your climax washed over you.
What the actual fuck? You thought to yourself, amazed. You rested your forehead against his chest, catching a breath and feeling your arousal wetting your inner thighs.
Still recovering from your unexpected orgasm, Joel picked you up and settled you down on the edge of his truck’s cargo bed. Your feet dangled in front of you, and you parted your legs to make room for him while you wrapped his neck with your arms and licked into his mouth.
“Now I’m gonna eat you raw, kiddo. Give you some of your own medicine.” His hoarse tone gave you goosebumps. Palming both of your breasts over your wet tank top, he pushed you down until your back met the floor of the cargo bed, your legs hanging freely from your knees down. “Is that what you want? This old man feasting on your pussy, on her? ‘S she gonna like it?”
“Joel, please, just― Yes, eat my pussy. Eat her, eat me, please.” You begged with a small voice while you pinched your nipples over your shirt, eyes closed.
And finally, he did. With his hands on your knees to keep them apart, Joel lapped at your cunt in one sweet sweep. Your body trembled with elation, shivers firing down your spine. His tongue caressed all the crevices in your shiny slit, lips puffy and reddened. His thumb found your clit as the tip of his tongue played with your leaking hole, going in and out a few times ― fucking you with his tongue.
You were not able to take it for much longer ― with Joel’s tongue lodged in your creamy fold and your fingers playing with your nipples, you were done for. Soon you came undone, tension growing in your lower belly and molten lava finding its way out. You howled his name, your knees pressing against his head, holding him in place as you came in his mouth. Joel sipped from your fountain, leaving not even one drop behind, your pussy licked clean of your own discharge.
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His turn to find relief.
Even though Joel had been fisting himself while eating you raw, the roughness of his palm could not compare to your warmth. He just knew your pussy would hug his cock just right. And he was dying to find out.
Pushing his work jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked his feet until they came off. Soon his security shoes and socks were kicked to the side too. With renewed energy, Joel jumped on to the cargo bed. You propped your torso up with the help of your elbows to study his erection, wetting your lips unknowingly.
Your eyes lingered on his cock for too damn long and it twitched on his hand.
“Spread your legs, kiddo.”
And so you did without complaints. You stretched your legs, Joel having a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You were so horny, he could literally see your cunt palpitating from this angle. Knelt between your legs, he leaned forward until the tip of his dick brushed against your slit, so damp again it just slid off. Jerking himself off, he nudged your soaked entrance with his mushroom head and your mouth opened, shaping a perfect O.
“So needy, isn’t she? Aren’t you? Playing difficult to catch today, trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, but in reality, you’re just a desperate brat wanting to get her pussy drilled by her dad’s best friend.” His dirty talk did not stop while he pushed in, your flesh parting to house him until he bottomed out.
Joel moaned, sweat gathering on his brow, his hands on either side of your head. He stood still for a long minute while your cunt fluttered around him, sheathing his whole length. He could feel your inner muscles adjusting to him.
You were so cockstruck you didn’t even reply.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, so take it well, kiddo.” He warned before tilting his hips back and abruptly back in.
You wailed loudly at the first thrust, and Joel had to muffle your screams by covering your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm, but he didn’t let go. He did not want you to alert the neighbours around the garage. His hips bucked against yours and then, after a few teasing shoves, Joel started jackhammering you fast and viciously hard.
You draped your legs around his waist, the heels of your white tennis pushing on his ass cheeks, encouraging to go deeper and quicker. And so he did, uncovering your mouth to replace it with his.
Joel fucked you mercilessly, filthily. He drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your tacky pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft sobs only spurred him on and when your moist pussy clutched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restraint himself for much longer.
He stoically let you come while riding your own climax. His balls tightened and his belly muscles strained, signalling his own relief.
“Where?”, was the only word that he managed to whisper.
Your eyes were still closed, a languid smile lingering on your lips, all blissful and satisfied while he was still fucking suffering.
“In my mouth.” Your reply was almost his undoing.
Joel snapped his hips back, his hard, throbbing cock slipping out. He dragged his body across yours until his thick, hairy thighs were on each side of your head and his nuts were resting on your chin, his ass hanging over your breasts.
“Open”, he husked, raspy and throaty.
Still with your eyes closed, you parted your lips, and Joel shoved his beating cock down your throat unceremoniously. He leaned forward over you ― his hands holding his weight off you, flat against the cargo bed’s floor. And then Joel started fucking your mouth mindlessly, as if it was your cunt ― his testicles slapping against your chin and your eyes welling up.
He could feel your head almost rocking up and down below him with the strength of his thrusts. You only stopped swaying underneath him when your hands grabbed his buttocks, your fingers sinking in his flesh.
With a guttural growl, Joel came undone and his thick cum filled your mouth. You stayed still while the last white ropes spurted out the slit on his tip, finally reaching the bliss he had been chasing for a week.
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Joel lifted his hips off your face and his dick came out of your mouth with a pop.
“Eat it, kiddo.” He requested of you, towering above you.
From this angle, flat on your back and with Joel almost sat on your face, you saw first his balls and then his soft cock hovering over your eyes. What had just happened was filthy, and you loved it, even though you were sure that your throat would hurt tomorrow.
“It’s $300 if I swallow”, you kidded out of nowhere, almost gargling with his cum as your mouth was full of it.
Joel chuckled as he came off you, sitting down on your left.
“Deal”, he agreed.
And so you gulped his cum down, letting it slip down your throat until it landed in your belly. You smiled at him before opening your mouth to show him it was empty.
Joel’s chest rumbled with satisfaction.
“Good girl.”
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2K notes · View notes
wwooyology · 22 days ago
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Blistering Heat | J.WY
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「pairing」 : wooyoung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.7k
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「synopsis」 : you started to notice changes in wooyoung's behavior, it was as if he was avoiding you entirely. he was going into a rut and kept trying to push you away, but you'd be dammed if you'd let him go through it alone.
「genre」 : hybrid!au, fox hybrid!wooyoung, human!reader, a small bit of fluff, smut (honestly just pure filth I'm ngl)
「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, wooyoung goes into his rut (obvi.), clit play, unprotected sex, dom!wooyoung x sub!reader, big dick!wooyoung, rough and messy sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, messy makeout, petnames (baby, babydoll, sweetheart, pup...), biting/marking, licking, blood, slight degradation and praising, EXTREAM breeding, possessiveness, manhandling, dumbification, subspace mentioned, dirty talk, derogatory names (cocksleeve), knotting, creampie, slight cockwarming, reader does say no but only because of pleasure (everything is consensual!), hair pulling, choking, slight breath play, dacryphilia, begging, slight pain kink, forced orgasm, lmk if I missed anything!!
「notes」 : I may or may not have gone just a little stir-crazy with this one 🤓☝ I just started writing, and my fingers wouldn't stop... but here is an additional part for all of those who wanted another fic with fox hybrid!wooyoung!! I hope you enjoy lovelies!
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You sat at the kitchen table with a warm cup of tea in your hands as you watched the doorway, a distant look in your eyes. Wooyoung had been acting weird for the past week. It started with him not wanting to be within a certain distance of you, to avoid you at all costs. He even stopped sleeping in the bedroom with you and would lock himself in the guest room without so much as a word. You had tried to talk to him and ask if there was anything wrong, but he would brush you off, saying he was fine.
It was some time after twelve that you saw him creep into the dining room, his fuzzy ears twitching as he looked around. As soon as his eyes met yours, he quickly averted his gaze, trying to push down the overwhelming heat that was building in his gut.
“There’s food on the stove.” You told him, trying to offer him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Thanks.” Wooyoung felt horrible that he was treating you like this but he’s never dealt with a rut when he was around another person, much less a human or someone he loved dearly. He was worried that he would scare you off.
You let out a deep sigh when he disappeared through the kitchen door. You wanted to understand what was going on, but he was making it hard when he wouldn’t even speak more than two words to you. Setting your now lukewarm tea down on the table, you pulled your phone from the pocket of your cardigan. You were determined to determine what was going on, whether or not he’d tell you.
Wooyoung slipped past you once more with a bottle of water in his hand, his gaze filled with guilt when you wouldn’t even look up at him. Swallowing thickly, he walked out of the dining room and made his way back to the guest room, where he would lock himself in for the next few days.
Opening your phone you went to the first person that you could think of that might have the answers you’re looking for. Hitting the green button you placed the phone against your ear, listening to the rings. After the third ring you heard the line connect before her voice flowed through the speaker.
“Hello?” 
“Hey Leila, it’s y/n.” You greeted her with a smile; it had been a while since you’d heard her voice.
“Y/n! How are you?” Leila asked, a chirp in her voice as you heard her rustling from the other side of the phone.
“I’m… okay. I actually had a question.”
“Is everything okay? It’s not the hunters again, is it?” She asked a sense of urgency in her tone to which you quickly reassured her that it wasn’t the hunters, that they hadn’t shown their faces in a while.
“It’s actually Wooyoung.” You started to explain to her everything that had been happening for the last week, and by the time you were done, she had let out a short burst of giggles. Confused, your eyebrows scrunched together, “What’s so funny? I’m actually worried something might be wrong, and I want to help.”
“Babe… he’s starting his rut.” Her words left you stunned because why hadn’t that crossed your mind? But what stunned you even more were the new few words that left her lips, “If you really want to help, the best you can do is offer yourself to him.”
Later that night, after getting out of the shower, you walked into your room with your towel wrapped tightly around your body. Just as you were about to grab your shirt, you heard a loud bang from the other room. Panic filled your veins, and you completely forgot about your clothes and darted out of your room. 
“Wooyoung, are you okay?” Your voice shook as you knocked rapidly on the guest bedroom door, but there was no response. Listening carefully, you could hear his labored breathing from the other side, which only caused you to worry even more. “Wooyoung, open the door.”
“Go away, y/n.” His voice was stern, but you could still hear the pain underneath. He had to have been fighting this off for a while now and it made you feel guilty that you didn’t notice before.
“I just wanna help Woo.” Your tone softened as you wrapped your fingers around the doorknob, but you knew right away it was locked when it wouldn’t budge.
“You can’t help me; just go back to– ugh!” He was cut off by a groan, and you acted quickly, rushing back to your room to grab the spare key before going back to the door.
“Stop being so stubborn, and let me help!” You scold the boy through the door as you knock, wanting to give him a chance to open it himself before you barged in. However, he didn’t give you a response, but you could hear his low growls. “You have three seconds to open this door before I open it myself.” You tried to sound authoritative, but there was still a slight tremor in your voice from the worry that was digging its claws into your spine.
You heard him grumble something from inside the room but couldn’t quite make it out. Giving him a few more moments, you started to insert the key into the keyhole.
“One.”
“Stop, y/n, I don’t want to hurt you.” You could hear the pain in his voice before the sound of another crash was heard, causing you to jump.
“You’re not going to hurt me, Woo. I trust you.” There was a softness in your tone that lured the fox to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob as he fought his inner turmoil. What if he really did hurt you? Would you forgive him? What if he scared you away? He didn’t think he would be able to live with himself if he did, but– “Please, Wooyoung.”
At the pleading tone in your voice, the last bit of his willpower faded away, and he unlocked the door before tearing it open.
A gasp fell from your lips when he appeared in front of you. His raven hair was a mess, and his ears sat flat on his head as if he were awaiting your lecture. His eyes were trained on your face, a small scowl resting upon his features, but despite all of that, you reached forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.
“God, you’re burning up.” Your voice was soft, your thumb brushing under the skin of his eye. Wooyoung closed his eyes, a low purr emitting from his throat from your touch. Until another sudden wave of heat rushed over his body, and he doubled over. 
You cried out his name before rushing to his side, worried that this might just be something more than his rut. Yet when he raised his head, you almost had to step back from the borderline predatory gleam in his eyes. That was also when he noticed that you were in nothing but a plain white towel that barely reached mid-thigh. 
Inhaling deeply, you moved closer to him as he rose back up, his eyes never leaving your form. With shaky hands, you reached down for his hand before bringing it up to your neck. Wooyoung’s pupils dilated as he felt your quickened pulse under his fingertips, almost salivating at the thought of biting into your skin. Marking you officially as his and his alone.
“I want to help Youngie.” The slight whine in your tone caused him to let out a low growl before his fingers wrapped around the delicate skin of your neck, pulling you closer to him. A choked whimper fell from your lips as you looked up at him, fingers lazily wrapping around his wrist but making no move to pull him away.
His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he saw was unbridled lust and need. Leaning his head down just far enough to let his nose bump against yours, he spoke in a low, growly tone.
“Are you sure? Once I start, I won’t be able to stop. No matter how much you beg.” His words send a shiver down your spine. The simple thought of him being so lost in his animalistic pleasure to the point where he’s completely ruining you made your core ache.
You bring your face just centimeters away from his, looking deep into his hooded eyes, “Ruin me then, Woo.”
Those words were the straw that broke the camel's back. His lips surged forward, crashing into yours at a bruising speed. He was moving so quickly that you could barely keep up with him, even as he released your neck.
“Woo…” You breathed out as he snatched the towel from your body, letting the cool air of the room nip at your bare skin. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. His nose pressed right against your jugular as he inhaled deeply, fingers tracing the curves of your body until he got to your hip.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He growled against your skin as he moved further down, cupping your bare heat in the palm of his hand. A small whimper fell from your lips as he parted your folds, tracing his fingertips along your slit before pressing down on your clit. “Oh, you’re already soaked, babydoll. Does the thought of me ravishing your body turn you on so much?” 
“Woo– fuck! Please.” You begged the fox, staring up at him with needy eyes, causing his dick to twitch in his pants, the last bit of his sanity slowly melting away.
Without so much as a word, he lifted your body from the ground before walking over to the bed and throwing you down onto the soft mattress. As soon as your back hit the mattress, Wooyoung was all over you, slotted right between your thighs. His lips traced every curve of your body, licking, nipping, and marking any part of your skin he could reach until you were withering underneath him.
“Youngie.” You whined, fingers threading through his soft locks until you met with the base of his ears. A low growl seeped from his throat as you gently tugged on one of his ears.
“I need to be in you, babydoll. I need to fuck your slutty little cunt until you’re filled to the brim with my seed. Until I’ve bred you properly.” His words came out in a low tone as he bit at your collarbone, slightly harder than before, nearly drawing blood. The sweet sound of your whimper went straight to his cock that was straining against his sweats.
His words left your mind spiraling. The thought of being so full of just him had your aching cunt clenching around nothing. A soft moan fell from your mouth as you pulled him back up to your swollen lips, sealing them with his in a hungry kiss.
“Yours.” You breathed out, eyes half-lidded as he pulled away, “All yours, Woo, please.”
It was then that the last bit of his sanity flew right out the window, his instincts fully taking over as he quite literally ripped his clothes from his body. Your aching cunt quivered at the sight of his throbbing cock, standing proudly against his lower stomach. 
“Gonna fuck you so good.” He growled as he took his cock into his hand, using his precum to slide up and down the length. “Everyone will know you’re mine. All mine.”
You barely had time to process what was happening as he grabbed your legs right behind your knees, pushing them up against your chest before you felt him probing at your entrance. A choked moan fell from your lips as he pushed into your needy cunt, his eyes watching as you swallowed his dick whole before he pulled back out.
“W-Woo–” You were cut off by a loud cry when he thrust back into you with an unimaginable force, nearly sending your mind into orbit.
“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” He repeated to word like a mantra as he fucked into your tight cunt, barely leaving you any room to breathe. He pressed down on your legs even more until you were damn near folded in half, the smooth tip of his cock pressing right against that spongy spot in your cunt with every thrust.
Tears were streaming down the sides of your face as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, fingers curled into the sheets. A broken mixture of curses and his name rolled off of your tongue, eyes rolling back as you become overtaken with pleasure.
“Your body was made just for me.” Wooyoung groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing together as he continued to fuck into your tight hole. “Perfect for carrying my kits.”
You clenched around him as he spoke those dirty words against your lips, swallowing all of your pretty noises. His nails dug into your thighs until they broke the skin, a trail of crimson blood flowing down the side of your leg before dripping onto the sheets. The mixture of pain and pleasure suddenly had you toppling over the edge, your back arching off the bed as a loud moan tore through your throat.
A deep animalistic growl reverberated from Wooyoung’s chest as he fucked you through your high, but never slowing down. Stars danced across your vision as he seemed to pick up the pace, his thrust growing even more harsh.
“W-Wooyoung!” You nearly screamed when his lips latched onto your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. There was no way that you were going to come out of this without any bitemarks, but you weren’t really in the right state of mind to complain.
Your hands flew to his back as soon as he latched onto the junction of your neck, his canines sinking deep into your skin. A sharp cry fell from your lips at the stinging sensation before he withdrew his fang, licking over the wound. Your nails racked against the skin of his back, causing him to hiss, his hips stuttering just slightly but never losing rhythm.
When his low, throaty groans started to turn into high-pitched whimpers, you knew he was close, just needing a little more. Trailing your hand up his back, you ran your fingers through his hair before gently taking his ear into your palm.
“F-Fuck!” He moaned loudly in your ear as he came, shooting thick, hot streams of cum deep inside your walls, his pace slowing just a bit.
Your head fell back against the soft mattress, eyes fluttering shut as his lips continued to wander the skin of your neck and shoulder. You thought he would knot you like he always had before and would call it good, but when you felt him pull away without knotting, your eyes snapped open.
“You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” His voice was deep as he cocked his head to the side, the blackness of his pupils nearly overtaking the whites of his eyes.
The air was knocked out of your lungs when he flipped your body effortlessly, laying you flat on your stomach. His hands were quick to find your hips, pulling them up until your back was arched the way he wanted.
“I still have so much more to give you, baby.” He chuckled darkly as he pressed his tip against your twitching hole, watching as you eagerly sucked him in. You buried your face into the sheets as he pushed into you with one sharp thrust, his tip pushing right against your cervix.
Tears stained the sheets underneath you as he relentlessly bullied his cock into your abused pussy, his hands tight on your hips. Muffled cries and moans were the only sounds that emitted from your body. Your cognitive function to form words flew right out the window.
“Such a good little cocksleeve,” He cooed, leaned down until his back was pressed against your chest, his lips finding the back of your shoulder. “Taking everything, I give you like a good girl.” The mixture of his derogatory names and praises made your body melt, and if it wasn’t for his hold, you would have surely fallen flat on the mattress.
“Y-Youngie!” You cried out, fat tears falling from your eyes as he continued his relentless pace until your whole body was shaking. “Cumming! ‘M cumming!” Your voice cracked as he fucked you through another orgasm, but once again, his ministrations never stopped, much less slowed down.
White spots started to cloud your mind when he stood up straight once again, using your hips as leverage to fuck into you. Choked sobs left your lips when your body fell into a state of overstimulation. Every nerve felt as if it were on fire.
Moving one hand from your hip, Wooyoung trailed it down the length of your spine before threading his fingers through your hair. With a harsh tug, he pulled your upper body off of the bed, eliciting a strangled moan from your parted lips.
“Look at you, babydoll, such a fucking mess on my cock. Is this what you wanted? Me to fuck you completely dumb? Until the only thought in your pretty little head was my cock? Hmm?” His harsh tone had you quivering in his hold, eyes squeezing shut as you felt another orgasm building up. Letting go of your hair, he grabbed your jaw harshly, turning your head until you were looking at him. “Answer me, pup.” He growled, lips brushing against yours as you whimpered in his hold.
“Y-Yes, I want you to fuck me stupid, Youngie.” You choked out before all the air was stolen from your lungs when his lips crashed into yours. His hand fell from your jaw down to your puffy clit causing your whole body to jolt. “No, no, no, stop Wooyoung! I feel weird.” You cried out as a different type of pressure built up in your lower gut, but he didn’t stop; if anything, your broken pleas only spurred him on.
White spots clouded your vision as that coil in your gut finally snapped, and your release gushed all over Wooyoung’s fingers and cock, even soaking the sheets below your body. It felt like your soul had been detached from your body as he continued to work you through your orgasm, coaxing more and more of your sweet release out of your body.
“Look at the mess you made, sweetheart,” His teasing tone rang in your ears as your head fell back on his shoulder, legs quivering underneath your weight. He moved his hand away from your throbbing clit, allowing you just a moment to breathe before that same hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft flesh.
A choked sob tore through your parted lips as he pistoned his hips into yours mercilessly. Your brain felt like it was turning into mush from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. Wooyoung’s fingers tighten around your throat as he buries his face into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent.
“You’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my kits.” Wooyoung licked a stripe up the back of your neck, “such a perfect mommy.” He cooed as he nipped at your skin, feeling another orgasm of his own creeping up.
“W-Woo…” You whimpered in his hold, your head empty except for the thought of his cock buried deep in you until he was sure his seed would take.
“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He growled before unexpectedly biting down on the nape of your neck as he came. The sudden infliction of pain pulled yet another orgasm from your spent body, your walls fluttering around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was worth.
Pulling away from your neck, he watched with proud eyes as his mark started to bleed, your sweet crimson blood coating his lips. Your mind was beginning to blank as you slowly came down from your high, only for that peace to quickly be ripped away from you when the fox hybrid pulled out of your cunt.
A small whine emitted from your body when he bent you over once again, pressing your face into the covers. Your jaw fell slack as he pushed his still rock-hard length back into your aching cunt, the mixture of yours and his cum making his movements more fluid.
“Oh, we’re not done yet, baby,” He chuckled darkly, pistoning his hips into yours. The brute force knocked all of the lungs from your body, and all you could do was lay there and take it. The only thought in your mind was Wooyoung’s cock and how painfully good it felt, nudging against your sweet spot.
Wooyoung didn’t stop until you filled to the brim before finally knotting you; the stretch had you cumming for the nth time that night. His arms wrapped around your body as he buried his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. A small pur reverberated from his chest as you ran your shaky fingers through his hair. The world finally felt like it was coming back to you as your body lay there, soaking in each other’s warmth as if you hadn’t been doing that for the past few hours.
“Thank you, baby,” His voice was low as he peppered kisses along the expanse of your chest before resting his chin right between your breasts. You hummed, still not fully trusting your voice, and he smirked before his fingers playfully crept up your side.
“W-Wooyoung!” You choked out his name at the ticklish feeling causing him to chuckle before groaning slightly when he felt that familiar heat bloom in his chest. Noticing the sudden change, you looked down at him in worry, your fingers curling around the nape of his neck. “How much longer will this last?”
Wooyoung took a moment to respond, trying to settle himself before he lost control. He then glanced back at you with worry and borderline guilt, “probably for the next week.”Your head fell back as your eyes fluttered shut, a small groan falling from your lips. This was going to be a long week, but you couldn’t complain. You did offer to help him after all, and by the looks of it, now that he had his hands on you, he wasn’t about to let go.
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@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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alisonsfics · 4 months ago
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guest lecturer - part one
pairing: tyler owens x student!reader
summary: when tyler owens shows up in our meteorology class to give a guest lecture, you are left just as speechless as all the other girls. but, tyler is just as awestruck by you.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: i COMPLETELY made up some science stuff for some dialogue, so if anybody actually knows stuff about meteorology or physics, this may be a little excruciating for you
part 2
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You flipped through your notes, jogging your memory on last week’s lecture. The lecture hall was silent. Half of the students were falling asleep. The other half were cramming and finishing assignments for other classes.
Your professor came running through the door. Her shoes squeaked on the floor. “Sorry I’m late. I got caught in the rain.” She quickly apologized, setting her bag down at her desk.
You grabbed a pen out of your bag, preparing to start your notes as your professor got settled in.
“We have a surprise guest speaker today for you all, who should be here in just a minute.” She announced to the class. There was a collective sigh from the room. Guest lecturers were notoriously boring and seemed to drag on and on about nothing.
You started doodling in your notebook, mentally preparing for the longest two hours of your life.
“I know as meteorology students, you are all aware of the storm chaser Tyler Owens and his YouTube channel.” She began to introduce the guest.
A few of the students perked up at the mention of Tyler’s name, including you. You were a big fan of Tyler and watched most of his videos. You tried to not get your hopes up, assuming the guest speaker was just going to be someone on his team.
You started to zone out, your thoughts drifting to the marvelous Tyler Owens. He was a mix of supermodel meets daredevil scientist. He’d been a guilty pleasure crush of yours for a while.
You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard your professor say “Please give a warm welcome to Mr. Owens.”
Your eyes snapped up and landed on Tyler walking to the front of the room. You mentally cursed your decision to sit in the third row. You felt too exposed being somewhere that Tyler Owens could see you.
The presence of Tyler at the front of the room grabbed everyone’s attention. The few students who were fans of his work got excited to see one of their idols. The girls in the room that didn’t know who he was perked up because Tyler was the perfect mix of handsome and rugged.
“Thank you, Dr. Hannigan,” Tyler thanked your professor for introducing him.
Tyler’s eyes drifted around the room. As he became more of a niche celebrity, he was getting used to being ogled by a room full of girls. Wherever he went, there were girls waiting and drooling over him.
You sat up straighter in your seat, feeling thankful today was the day you chose to dress cuter than normal.
Tyler’s eyes landed on you. There was something different about you. All the other girls were staring at his muscles, while you weren’t an exception to that, there was more to it. You were hanging on to every word he said. He could see your interest in not just him, but what he was talking about.
His eyes ran over your body before continuing with his next point. You felt your skin heat up under his gaze. You quickly crossed your legs and tried to distract yourself from the aching between your legs.
He made a few jokes relating back to tornadoes. Each one was met with a room full of flirty giggles. Half of them didn’t even sound like they understood the jokes.
You weren’t blaming them for ogling him. His very presence in front of you made you think God was sending you a treat to apologize for how catastrophic midterm week had been.
But, you were at least paying attention to what he was talking. Some were just picturing him naked.
“So, what my team is currently working on is efforts to deescalate, or for lack of a better word, control tornadoes.” He started to explain his work. The facade of a tornado-wrangling cowboy had the entire class enthralled.
All of a sudden, before you knew what you were doing, your hand shot up in the air. You didn’t process that you’d actually have to speak to Tyler if you wanted to ask him a question.
His eyes quickly met yours. He was eager to finally have a question to answer. “Let me guess, you’re gonna say it’s science fiction? That it’s scientifically impossible?” He asked you, anticipating the usual feedback he got.
You just smirked and shook your head. “I was going to ask if your work had anything to do with the Lawson’s theory of balance and imbalance?” You asked, fidgeting with your pencil.
Tyler furrowed his brow and had to stop his jaw from dropping. It wasn’t often that people could debate back and forth with him and challenge him.
The class waited as you caught him off guard. “She’s one of our brightest students.” Dr. Hannigan said, from her desk off to the side. You felt yourself sit up a little straighter as you stumped one of your idols.
You weren’t what was Tyler was expecting at all.
“You know what? You’re absolutely spot on. You want to come up here for a second and help me out?” He asked you. The heat rushed to your cheeks and your palms started sweating.
You quickly walked down the stairs to the front of the room. Tyler eyes stayed glued to you the whole time you walked towards him. “Tyler,” He repeated with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand.
You felt goosebumps as his strong hand grabbed yours. “Y/N,” You struggled to even find the words to introduce yourself. He noticed the electricity as your fingers grazed his.
He turned his attention back to the rest of the class. “So, to accommodate for Lawson’s theory, like Y/N mentioned, we have to do the opposite of what’s expected. Storms expect things. It’s just in their nature, so you have to do the unexpected.” He explained to the class.
He turned back to you, and your heart started beating faster. “Put your hands out in front of you, palms facing down.” He quietly instructed you. You quickly followed his directions.
“So, I’m gonna push against her hands. Since she’s expecting it, she’ll push back.” He said to the class. He took his hands and rested them under yours. He nodded and smiled at you, then he started pushing up on your hands.
You pushed back down against his hands. He was careful to not push too hard because he was much stronger than you. “See, there’s equal resistance.” He said, looking at how your hands stayed in the same place.
“Okay, now we’ll do it again, but this time we’ll use this.” He told you. Then, he fished something out of his pocket, and you realized it was a blindfold. He gently pulled it over your eyes, making sure not to pull on your hair. He placed his hands under yours again.
He softly counted down for you since you couldn’t see him, “3… 2… and 1…”
Instead of pushing against your hands, Tyler grabbed your hands and let you push his hands down with your own. You stumbled forward a step since there was no resistance.
Your hands instinctively reached out to keep yourself from falling and landed on his shoulders. He quickly grabbed your forearms, steadying you. You couldn’t see him, but he was smiling at you with a look of awe. You fascinated him.
He let go of your arms after you regained your balance. “Brilliantly done,” he whispered to you as he carefully took the blindfold off of you. You felt a shiver go down your back as his breath hit your neck.
“It’s all about doing the unexpected.” He said, to the class. Then, the bell chimed throughout the hall. “Alright, see you next week. Don’t forget about the reading.” Dr. Hannigan yelled over the rush of girls swarming towards Tyler.
You hurried back to your seat to grab your backpack. As Tyler was swarmed, his eyes stayed glued on you. He watched you as you walked away, grinning to himself.
Not wanting to get caught up in the swarm of girls, you grabbed your bag and ran off to your next class. Tyler lost you in the crowd, but couldn’t get you off his mind.
You were sitting in your next class when you got an email from Dr. Hannigan. It read: “I know you all had lots of questions for Mr. Owens, so he has agreed to host office hours at 3pm today in my office.”
You felt your stomach do a flip as you thought about being in a room with him again. You debated whether or not to go. You didn’t want to get swept up in another mad frenzy of girls hitting on Tyler, but you wanted to see him again.
Once your class ended, it was like your feet had a mind of their own as you found yourself walking towards your professor’s office.
It was a small office, so you expected to see a line out the door. It was eerily quiet, and you didn’t see anyone.
Turns out, if the words weren’t coming out of Mr. Tornado Dreamboat’s mouth, your peers weren’t interested. So, none of them checked their emails.
You softly knocked on the door and heard Tyler call out, “Yeah, come in.”
You slowly opened the door and stepped inside. Tyler lit up once he saw that it was you. He’d been hoping you’d show up.
You’d expected your professor to be here as well, so your nerves got worse when you realized the two of you were alone.
He was sitting at your professor’s desk. You noticed the playing cards lying on the desk, like he’d been playing Solitaire. “Slow day?” You asked, gesturing towards the cards.
He chuckled to himself and nodded. “Yeah, you’re the first person to show up.” He said, laughing. You sat down across from him and started to feel less nervous.
The giant desk between the two of you was a good deterrent to stop you from doing anything stupid like trying to kiss him.
“Thank you for helping out in class. I was dying for somebody to ask a question. Everyone was just staring. And I’m sorry for almost making you fall.” He started making small talk. The conversation flowed really naturally.
“I’m just really fascinated by your work. I have so many questions.” You said, smiling back at him. He could see the enthusiasm on your face, and he knew you weren’t faking anything.
“Oh yeah, Dr. Hannigan sent me your midterm paper a few weeks ago. It was pretty brilliant stuff. I was trying to figure why your name sounded familiar. I think that’s why. You should come out for a ride sometime. Get some field experience. I’d love to take you.” He praised you.
You couldn’t help but get a little bashful. Your idol, who you had a massive crush on, was praising your work and wanted to work with you. The thought of spending time alone with Tyler out in the field was enough to make your stomach do flips.
“You really read my paper? I brought it with me. I wanted to ask your opinion on some things.” You said, grabbing your paper out of your bag. He nodded, enthusiastically.
He wheeled his chair around to your side of the desk, so he was sitting right next to you. Your nerves that had been starting to fade were back in full force. It was different when Tyler was two inches away from you. He leaned his arms on the desk, his one arm pressing up against yours.
You could smell his cologne, and it was all you could think about. Your mind was just a blur of cedar and hints of vanilla. “So, I umm…what I wa-wanted to show you was…” you mumbled, flipping through your paper.
Tyler softly smirked to himself. He interrupted you and put his hand on top of your paper, forcing you to look at him. “Do I really make you that nervous?” He asked you, barely above a whisper.
Your eyes were glued on his. His deep emerald eyes drawing you in. You couldn’t even muster up a response. You were speechless as you watched how intently he stared back at you.
“Yeah? I make you nervous, honey?” He asked, in a softer tone. The pet name took you by surprise. A muffled whine escaped your lips. You hadn’t realized you made the sound until you heard it. He held your chin, stopping you from looking away.
You quickly crossed your legs, trying to ignore the way he was making you feel. He brushed a piece of hair out of your face.
“I guess we’ll just have to find a way to loosen you up then.” He teased. The words went straight to your core.
Tyler watched the way you swallowed as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I need to know if you’re okay with this, honey. Gotta use your words,” he coaxed you.
“Please, Tyler,” you begged him.
He smirked and grabbed your hips. He effortlessly picked you up and sat you on the edge of the desk. “You were distracting me so badly when I was giving my lecture. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” He said, toying with the hem of your skirt.
Tyler didn’t believe his ears when he heard you whimper. His eyes shot up to lock onto yours. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take real good care of you.” He assured you.
He pressed sloppy kisses along your jawline. You raked your fingers down Tyler’s back. He continued to play with the fabric of your skirt. With a burst of confidence, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your bare upper thigh, under your skirt.
Tyler stopped kissing you. A cocky grin grew on his face. “That was so fuckin’ hot,” he groaned, kissing your lips. You hungrily kissed him back. His thumb caressed the inside of your thigh.
Following your lead, he let his hand sneak higher up your leg. He could feel you getting more desperate. As his hand got closer to where you wanted him most, he could feel your skin growing hot.
He ran his thumb over your panties, feeling a small wet spot. Your moan was muffled as he kissed you.
He started to pull your panties to the side, and you both heard the doorknob start to jiggle.
You both quickly pulled apart, and he set you on the ground. You managed to quickly smooth out your skirt and grab your backpack.
The door opened, and you recognized one of your classmates. “Hey, welcome in,” Tyler waved at them, pretending he wasn’t pissed that you got interrupted.
You watched as Tyler discreetly wiped his hand on the back of his jeans. “Those were all the questions I had. Thank you for your help.” You thanked Tyler before rushing out the door.
Tyler wanted to run after you, but he couldn’t now that someone was watching.
You practically ran back to your apartment. You didn’t want to show your face. Of course, no one knew about your meeting with Tyler, but you felt like everyone knew.
You were worried that other student found the whole thing suspicious. And what if he told your classmates or Dr. Hannigan? Soon, the whole campus would know you were the girl that tried to fuck a guest lecturer.
You spent the evening binge watching your favorite tv show. You hoped it would distract you from your embarrassment, but it didn’t. You were brought out of your thoughts when you got another email from Dr. Hannigan.
“Good evening class. I’m glad you all enjoyed the guest lecturer today. Mr. Owens told me he was very impressed by all of you and your interesting questions. I forgot to mention it in class, but his team currently is seeking an intern to work with them over spring break. I highly recommend that all of you apply. You can email Mr. Owens at [email protected]. Best, Dr. Hannigan.”
You stared at the email address, deciding what to do. It would be a great opportunity. Tyler could really teach you a lot. But now, the thought of seeing Tyler made you want to hide in your bed.
You quickly deleted the email, so you couldn’t change your mind and went to bed.
The next two weeks were completely normal. You’d almost completely forgotten about your almost-hookup with Tyler. The only time he popped in your head was when you were lying awake at night. You couldn’t get the thoughts of his fingers out of your head.
It was all fine. Until, Dr. Hannigan stopped you after class.
“Is this about my assignment? I know it was a few hours late. I’ve just been a little distracted recently. It won’t happen again.” You quickly apologized.
Dr. Hannigan shook her head. “Mr. Owens reached out to me about you.” She told you. You panicked.
“What did he say?” You asked, trying to not sound too desperate.
There was no reason for Tyler to tell Dr. Hannigan about your almost-quickie. What if there were cameras? What if she knew? What if you got expelled? Your mind raced with different worst case scenarios.
“He said he was expecting you to apply for the internship, but he didn’t see an application from you. He was really impressed with your midterm paper, and he said the internship was yours if you wanted it. I think this would be a great opportunity for you, but it’s up to you. So, what should I tell him?” She asked you.
You were extremely flattered. Tyler wasn’t trying to avoid you. In fact, he basically had handpicked you to come work with him. You could turn it down.
“You can tell him I would love the opportunity.” You said, smiling at her.
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fortunekookie07 · 6 months ago
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Are requests open? May I request a sylus x wife reader (not the mc) where she is afraid of him and feels like he doesn’t love her cause of his cold and intimidating nature. Then mc arrives and she’s hurt and shocked with how he treats her. Now convinced that he doesn’t love her and hates her she keeps her distance and sits alone everyday on the rooftop. Barely eating anything nor sleeping properly she lost the will and strength to sleep next to him and sleeps on the couch or on the rooftop (after she saw him pin down mc onto the bed ya know that scene) . Even starts to think of packing up and leaving telling herself to “prepare” whenever he divorces her.
But one time she gets kidnapped for bait and injured yet sylus hasn’t come for days so she tells her kidnappers “ it’s a waste of time cause sylus won’t come for me, i mean nothing to him , he was already planning to get rid of me. so you might as well kill me right now and save your breaths.” Not knowing that her husband overheard her when he entered before she passed out due to lack of food and exhaustion.
Did You Ever Love Me?
The day you married Sylus was the happiest day of your life. You had been by his side for 3 years. It wasn't the easy life you had once dreamed of, but this was the reality of the N109 Zone. Nothing was easy, and everything had a price.
You still remembered the day you had first met, what a blood bath that had been. Your family had been one of the most influential in the area. Having long established their authority when it came to weapons dealing. Only supplying top-notch weapons.
From a young age your father had made sure you knew the business, drsminf of having you take over. He taught you everything he knew. From the making of the orders, to quality check, and even materials secured.
That day it was your parents 25th anniversary and a big party was thrown for them. Business partners and friends were all invited to the event.
The only thing your father had not warned you about, was the extensive dangers of the N109 Zone. He'd tried to shield you from just how dirty the world could be.
A rival family had crashed the party with a seemingly endless group of thugs. Before anyone had realized what was going on, gunshots filled the air. People started screaming and running in a desperate attempt to get to safety. Pushing and shoving others out of their way as they went.
A stray bullet hit your arm and blood immediately started pouring from the wound. You grunted as the pain slammed into you and momentarily lost your footing just a another bullet whizzed past the air where your head had been seconds ago.
You heard your father calling your name and pushing through people trying to get to you. You could see your mother sitting on the ground near one of the stairs columns. She was tying a makeshift bandage around someone's leg. Trying to staunch the bleeding.
You felt like your life was running in fast forward as you watched your father continue to push through the crowd and then he suddenly stopped moving as his eyes widened and he looked down. Blood was blooming across the white shirt of his suit and staining the black jacket. In the center of the stain was a hole. You felt sick seing that hole pierced through his chest over his heart.
"Father!" Your scream rang over the gunshots and panic as you tried to run to him. The long him of your dress got stepped on and you fell to the floor landing hard on your side. Pain zipped through your body at the hard smack to the unforgiving marble floor.
You desperately fought to get to your feet as it finally seemed like the crowd was thinning out. Thankfully no one stepped on you or your clothes again. Just as you reached your father the gun shots stopped and the following silence seemed to bring the air of dread.
The scent of blood was strong, making you gag as your stomach heaved. You push the feelings back and reach out to the injury, hands shaking as you try to staunch the blood flow. He grunts with the pressure and his eyes open slightly. You start muttering words but even you don't believe what you are saying.
"It's ok father, we can fix this. I'll get help, the doctor will fix you right up and then everything will be ok." Tears arr pouring down your face as he smiles weakly. He reaches for your face, trying to touch your cheek. Just before his hand can touch you a great force yanks you back.
You scream out at the pain, pulling you scalp. A heavy fist has gripped your hair, yanking the strands hardly and then a voice is in your ear. "I'll blast a hole in your head if you move a muscle." The voice growled near your ear as he tightens his grip on your hair. Your cried our in pain and he just tugged harder, you bit back the second cry as hot tears rolled down your face.
His arm grabbed your hand and forced you to your feet, perking you to face the way he wanted. He kicked the back of your knees forcing you to kneel in front of a man. Tugging your head back as he allowed you to stare at the man clearly responsible for this entire plot.
Fear stuck you as a cold, malicious smile stretched across his heavily scarred face. His eye was like flat steel. No luster or shine to its grey depths. A scar cut through his left eye and down his cheek, going all the way down to his mouth. Burn scars were also intermingled on his face.
His eye itself was an ugly milky color, it held no pupil or iris. On the right side of his face three long jagged scars could be seen stretching from his ear down to his chin. Little tremors went through your body. This man had an overwhelming presence and the sense of evil wrapped around him like a cloak.
"Well, well, well if it isn't the little princess. Your father was careful to hide you away from me. Protecting his biggest weakness. I must say I do admire him for that."
In contrast to his appearance his voice was smooth, a slight rasp clung to his words. Whatever had attacked and scarred him had obviously affected his vocal cords. He worked it to his advantage, speaking in a way that soothed you on the surface. Even if his words were unsettling or foul.
He reached for you, his fingers and thumb just barely brushing your face when a loud caw shattered the silence. With the bird cry black and red mist began pouring into the wide space and the air got heavy. As if gravity itself was pushing down on everyone and everything in the room. The mist covered and hid everything in its path. Blinking you realized you couldn't see the man in front of you.
A deep, suave, sexy voice seemed to come from no where as helped had seemed to arrive. "It seems you did not learn your lesson. I don't mind teaching it to you agiain, Osric." The mist wrapped around him, holding him still. Footsteps tapped across the floor, the occasional sloosh as he stepped in a puddle. Your body shuddered, knowing exactly what liquid he stood in.
It took a few minutes before you realized that the man who had been gripping your hair was no longer touching you, or even anywhere near you.
The mist began swirling into the center of the room, right next to you. Looking into the mist you could just make out a tall silhouette. As rapidly as the mist had spread it was now retreating.
A tall well built man was standing right beside you. Silver hair carefully styled. Red eyes piercing and promising danger. The right one seemed to be glowing.
"You have some guts, touching something of mine, I don't take kindly to thievery. The man, Osric, was hoisted into the air with the mist. He gasped and sputtered clawing at the mist to no avail.
Two men appeared by your side then. One offered his hand, bit you hesitate. Both are wearing black crow masks with subtle red lines on the face of the mask and a red tipped beak. Two red horns poke through the hoods they wear and a gold ring is on one of them. The two are slim and tall, you can tell nothing of their appearance. Clothing and masks make it impossible to discern any identifying features.
The first guy is still holding his hand out to you, he seems neither impatient nor upset that you haven't accepted it yet. Finally seeing no consequence to taking his offered hand you lightly place your palm in his. He gently but firmly grasps your hand and assists you in standing. He let's go after you are steady on your feet and positions himself at your side. The second does the same on your right. Like they are bodyguards.
"Screw you Sylus"! Osric sputters out, still trying to break free of the mist. His fingers are bloody from his efforts to free himself. "Luke, Kieran, see to it that she comes to no harm." The silver haired man says as he squeezes his hand. The mist constricts around Osric further cutting of his air flow completely.
One of the two lightly grabs your arm and spins you around just as a sickening crunch reaches your ears. This kind of thing happened a lot here. Those with power ruled over the weak. It was nothing new.
You had long grown accustomed to the way Sylua dealt with traitors and rats. He did not tolerate disloyalty and gave no second chances.
The events of your parents 25th anniversary party had happened five years ago. You often wondered how your life would have gone if you had never accepted his hand when he gave it. Your father had been supplying weapons to Sylus' organization for years. He'd apparently stuck some kind of deal with Sylus, that had involved your protection.
Sylus had married you, per your father's request and now he owned almost half of your family business. Haven acquired your mother and father's shares. He'd left yours to you.
At first you'd been absolutely terrified of him. His aura radiated danger, almost like he was a living grim reaper. He so often came back to the manor covered in blood. The twins were his direct subordinates. They followed his every command quickly and without hesitation. But at least they had a personality and could provide a sense of calm.
It had taken almost a year before you could approach Sylus without feeling nervous. You hadn't been able to understand your fear of him. He'd posed no restrictions on you, didn't make any ridiculous demands and had never threatened you with harm of any kind.
The turning point had been the day he'd come home injured and concern over his bleeding wounds had overrode the fear. Despite his insistence that he didn't need any first aide treatment, Sylus had not pushed you away or tried to stop you from cleaning his wounds.
After that he began spending time with you and talked to you. Before you knew it you looked forward to when he would come home and just talk to you for awhile. These little gestures and act of kindness had resonated in your heart and little by little you felt yourself falling for him.
He'd granted your request to be touched by him and he spent a night with you. Thinking that he too had given his heart to you, you lived your days believing that he loved you back. That was until she appeared.
In an instant his entire demeanor changed. He made her his top priority. Spending any and all time he had with her. Most nights he didn't even come to your room anymore. His side of the bed was often unspent in.
You hadn't officially met her yet, only seen her in passing. She was beautiful. Long dark hair hung in neat and straight lengths down to her very slender waist. Piercing eyes almost the shade of jade framed by thick dark lashes. She was on the shorter side, even you were taller than she was. This woman held some kind of connection with your husband and the knowledge that your place was very quickly being stripped away gnawed at you from the inside.
Wandering aimlessly through the manor one day you discovered the ladder that lead up to the roof. Even though it was cold outside, you still sat there on the roof. Wondering how long it would be before you were forgotten completely.
Despite the cold and the swirling snow, you dozed off hugging your arms to your sides. What seemed like minutes later you were woken up by a piercing light. The sun was beginning to sting your eyelids, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun's first rays of the day, you tried to sit up straight. Your whole body was numb and cold. It took several minutes to rub feeling back into your fingers.
Carefully moving away from the edge of the roof you stood up. Your legs shook from the movement. Having been in the same position for too long, they had gone to sleep.
You did some light stretches and gradually the shaking and numbing little stings subsided and you felt more sure on your feet.
Finally you made your way to the roof latch, having left it open all night there was a pile of snow at the base of the ladder and it was freezing cold to the touch.
You descended the ladder and walked around the manor. It was quiet, most everyone was asleep at this time. Feeling the desire to see Sylus, you turn around and head to his room. He was usually there at this time. You hesitate at the door. Whenever you'd come to his room he was usually accompanying you.
Just as your about to knock, a voice addresses you from behind. "He's not here, Sylus went out for work. I've been waiting for him to return since last night." Turning around, you see that woman. Feeling angry for a reason you can't quite grasp, you turn around
and storm by her. Purposely bumping into her on the way by. She stumbles but you keep going.
Your sour mood lingers throughout the day killing any appetite oyi might have had. Your wandering leads you back to the roof and you sit in the same spot from the night before.
From your spot on the roof, you can hear his motorcycle approach the manor and you sit their contemplating what to do. Finally after another two hours you head back to his room. When you get there the door is adjacent and you silently push it open. You feel your heart stop.
There on the bed is Sylus on top of her. She's pinned down and it's very obvious what is going on. His naked back is to you and her equally naked leg is wrapped around his waist. Their kiss is intense that you feel your heart break. His hand is twined with hers and pinned above her head. You back away and run down the hall and go to the roof.
Hot tears are streaming down your face as you realized that Sylus had never loved you. He'd just been indulging you for the last several years because you were useful. He could even hate you for all you knew. The one he truly loved was currently tangled with him on his bed.
You feel your heart break further as you realize that with no family or friends you have nothing. You had only ever been useful to Sylus because of you family's business. That was not love and never could be.
You cry yourself to sleep on the roof again, completely defenseless and unaware of the eyes watching you. When you wake up again, there's a dull ache in your head and a ferocious growl in your stomach, but you have no desire to eat or even move.
You sit there watching the stars for what seemed like days. Eventually the sky begins to lighten as the sun begins its ascent across the sky. You continue to sit, even as heavy clouds roll in. Another snowfall is coming, you remembered from the weeks forecast you had read a few days ago. But still you don't move.
It's only when the wind cuts through you, chilling you to the bone that you get up. Once again you rub feeling back into your frozen limbs and head down the ladder. You avoid your room and his. Just the thought of sleeping in a bed you had shared with him makes your stomach turn. Your entire body burns with the feeling if betrayal, but you can neither act on it or alleviate it. The feeling simmers in your stomach driving away the need for food.
Eventually you end up on the couch. The warmth from the fire burning in the hearth slowly warms you up and a drowsy feeling over comes you. Stretching out and pulling the throw down over you, you manage to drift off into a restless sleep.
After what feels like minutes, your body is shaken awake. It's that woman again, hate burns through your veins. You want to tear her apart and rip her to shreds. You glare at everything.
"Hey, the cook said you didn't eat dinner. So I brought you some food" She offers the plate to you. It's all your favorite things. A light fruit salad with beautifully cut fresh fruit and a stack of golden waffles topped with whipped cream and raspberries. Your anger overtakes you and you sit up and shove the plate away from you. She's so surprised at this action that she stumbles back, dropping the plate as she does. The delicate China shatters on the floor as the fruit scattered and the waffles sit there on top of the broken peices.
She looks at you with hurt on her face. "Why did you do that?" She asks just as Sylus enters the room. He looks annoyed at the mess on the floor. Concern overtakes him as he comes closer. Of course none of it is for you, she's the only important one in his eyes. A shard of the plate had bounced of the floor and put a cut on her arm. She had a line of bright red blood blooming out from the slice.
"Did you really think I would accept anything from YOU?" You spit the words at her like venom and stand up. "I know your not so stupid as to be unaware that Sylus is my husband." Your words are as cold as the ice outside. Red blooms across her face as realization strikes her.
You turn to leave the room and just as your about to step into the hall something grabs your arm and yanks you back. Your head whips around and your suddenly face to face with Sylus angry expression.
"She is my guest, you will treat her with respect. Don't lay your hands on her again." You rip your arm from his grasp. "You must think I'm an idiot. She's getting a hell of a lot more than hospitality from you. I owe her NOTHING. She is nothing to me but a sneaky slut that wormed her way into a married man's bed. Both of you disgust me." You storm from the room. As you leave, you take notice of the twins. They are also watching you, but you do not care.
You return to your room and begin to make preparations. You're almost certain now that Sylus hates you. "Divorce is pretty much guaranteed." You say out loud to no one. As you look around the room you realize that nothing in it is truly yours. Everything had been given by Sylus after your marriage. "What a joke I am. I must be the biggest idiot in all of the world. I never should have married him. He was a complete stranger. What a fool!" You kick the dresser in anger, the pain just spurs you on.
After ripping the sheets off the bed and throwing them to the floor your anger had only increased. Grabbing the nearest object, your hurl it to the floor. Feeling satisfied as it shatters. You begin throwing things all over the room. In minutes the neat, beautifully decorated room is in shambles. Glass, sheets, books, jewelry, makeup, and nick-nacks are all over the floor. You turn and leave the disaster you made, making sure to slam the door as hard as you can on your way out. The paintings on the wall tremble from the force.
You storm through the manor headed for the stairs again. You don't recognize the lightheaded woozy feeling that has over come you and you feel dizzy as you reach the ladder that goes to the roof. Halfway up, your foot slips. Before you fall, in a burst of adrenaline you manage to grab the ladder securely. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you cling to the rungs. "That was too close," you mutter taking deep, steady breaths.
Undeterred, you climb the ladder anyway, resolute in seeking peace on the roof once more. It takes a lot more effort to climb up than it had in previous climbs. Your huffing and puffing by the time you manage to get up.
As you walk to the ledge and glance at the snow covered ground below, you realize something is off. The footsteps in the snow are not yours and since it had been snowing for hours, the ones from earlier would have long since been hidden under more snow.
You whirl around ad your mind screams danger. You hands fumble through your layers of clothing to grab the knife you always kept with you. It was a custom blade and designed to attach to your bra. Although it was small, it was very sharp and could easily cut and stab in defense. As your hand manages to grab the handle a figure appears from the top of the roof. He easily jumps down to where you are.
"To think that the infamous wife of Onychinus' boss would be so easy to get to. No bodyguard?" He asks in a taunting tone. The man is dressed head to foot in black. His entire body is covered save for his eyes. Black as a blank night sky and soulless. He points a gun at you. "Drop the knife, or I'll put a bullet in you right here." He says his finger twitching on the trigger.
Having been taught how to fight from a small age, you fein dropping the knife as he moves closer. Just as he's within reach you spin it around and drive it into his upper arm. Unfortunately he was prepared for your tricks and fires the gun. The bullet burries itself deep into your thigh. You cry out and collapse to the ground clutching the wound. Blood seeps between your fingers and down your leg. Falling upon the snow.
"You're going to regret that." The man says as he pulls the blade out of his arm and flings it to the ground. He reaches out and grabs you. You're enveloped in a blinding light and then everything fades away. Sight, sound, and feeling are gone.
It feels like you're floating in darkness for a long time. You struggle to move, bit something is restricting you're movements. A rattling sound is the first thing you can hear as your senses come flooding back. The pain slams into you again and you groan. You realize that you've been blindfolded with a thick cloth.
"She's finally awake. I would really like to know about that blade she stabbed you with. It really did a number on your arm. It must have been very sharp.
"Shut up and just do your job. The boss needs information and she's going to have it. He said do whatever it takes to get it out of her. Just don't kill her." A gleeful cackle made you shudder and then footsteps came closer to you.
"Darkness makes the pain more intense. You will tell me what we want to know." The man says and then you can hear metal being moved around. Your heart begins to race. There is nothing for you to tell them. Sylus had always made sure that you knew nothing of his business and plans. You had only ever overseen the production of weapons. You didn't know their purpose or intended use.
"I imagine I'll get away with it if I do kill you though. Osric was his brother just so you know. Boss has a personal grudge to pick with you and Sylus. This is going to be delicious. Let's begin. We'll start with something easy." He said and then you could feel him standing at your side.
Hours had passed since the torture had begun, but no matter what question he asked the result was the same. You didn't know.
He had tried a variety of methods to break you. The first had been pulling you fingernails our. It had been excruciating and you nearly passed out several times. The he had tried whipping you. Your back was a raw bloody mess from all the cuts. That had made you pass out. His ways of waking you up again were resolute. Dumping ice water on you seemed to do the trick.
Your mind felt like it was going to snap if this went on much longer. Your voice was raspy and hoarse from the hours of screaming and crying. At first you had tried to hold back, but this maniac had taken it as a challenge. Several times he had said you were boring him with your instant responses.
"You're n-not going to-o get any.. anything fro-om me. I have nothing to tell. Even if I wanted to." This was not the first time you had said those words. It's just they fell on deaf ears. "Ju-just kill me al-ready. I I'm useless to yo-ou. He-e doesn't ca-are about me. Ju-just end it already. I-I don't kn-ow anything." This went on for days. You knew time was passing but you had no idea how much until finally a different person entered the room.
"Boss is fed up with you. He wants to know why she hasn't spilled her guts yet. He's tired of waiting for what he wants to know. Can't believe three days and she hasn't cracked once." His voice sounded disappointed and uninterested.
You'd lost count of all the methods they had tried to get you to speak. Several times you had begged him to just kill you but he'd only laughed in response. Sleep had been allowed a few times and sips of water had been given.
They had never removed your blindfold, and you were glad that you could not see what had been done to you. Even if you could feel every injury, being able to see them would have made it ten times worse.
Just as he was getting ready to start again, the door was blasted open. It sounded like it had been ripped right off the hinges. Chaos ensued with whatever had cause the door to explode, and the man started yelling.
"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?" Crashes followed the words, and then a guttural sputter followed. Seconds later, you felt hands touching you, and you flinched, thinking that more pain would follow. To your surprise, the restraints on your arms and legs were removed, and then someone was carefully helping you sit up. A pair of hands touched the blindfold and then dim light hit your eyes. You screwed them shut feeling that it was painful.
Every part of your body hurt. Stinging and burning sensations were running rampant all over and you just wanted it to end. "We need to move." A familiar voice said in your ear. You open your eyes, ignoring the pain from the light and look at the voice. To your complete surprise Luke and Kieran are by your side.
"We've come to get you. Boss is so angry. I don't want to stick around here." The twins had their usual care free attitude as they watched you. "Why?" You asked looking at the pair. You could sense their confusion. "What do you mean why? You're Boss's wife. Of course he will take back what is his." One of them said as the other drapped a blanket over you and then carefully picked you up.
You grimaced and tried not to show the pain. "M-my leg is broken." You managed to get out between gritted teeth and gasps. They said nothing as they took you out the door.
Having never seen any of the place you were in, you were surprised at the twisting hallways and maze like route that you were taking. But the twins seemed undeterred and walked quickly. Before long there was a heavy metal door in front of you. It was all dented and it looked like an explosion had hit it. The door was already adjar and upon further investigation, you notice that it's hanging off the hinges.
Walking down another short hallway you come up into a large room. With a start you realize that blood is everywhere and there are bodies scattered through out the room. At the front leaning against a table is Sylus. He looks irritated and he has blood spattered on his face. He stands up straight when he sees you and the twins. His gaze hardens as he looks you over.
"Why did you come?" He looks at you blankly, his face giving nothing away. He just looks at you like he's staring right through you.
"Did you ever, even for one second love me?" You ask after several tense minutes go by. He still says nothing. Feeling the unsaid confirmation of what you had thought to be true now a reality you close your eyes against the tears.
A minute later and you open them again. "I am over this. I just want it to end. I don't care about anything anymore. I no longer want anything as I also posses nothing. You can have it all. I just want it to end." After letting go you feel like a weight has fallen off your shoulders. All the hate and resentment you'd felt several days ago has disappeared.
"Take her to the manor and contact the dr." Sylus finally says after many moments. The twins immediately move out. Despite their best efforts you get jostled several times and the pain makes you pass out. You surrender to unconsciousness, thankful to escape for however short a time it will last.
Over the next several months you are confined to bed to allow you injuries to heal. The scarring isn't as bad as you had though it would be, but it extends over most of your arms legs and back. The whip scars will never disappear and serve as a constant reminder to never show your back to anyone.
Eventually the day arrives that the dr tells you all of you injuries have healed and he discharges you from his care. Eight months have passed since that day and finally you are back on your feet. Having packed a bag with a few sets of clothes you grab the strap and the papers you had asked for a few days ago.
Without hesitation you go to Sylus' office and open the door. He is sitting at his desk reading some documents. You walk over and set two things down. One of them reads Transfer of Assets and the other says Annulment of Marriage. Placing a pen on top of it you say resolute "sign them and then you'll never see me again." You take a step back and wait.
He sets the papers down and looks at what you have placed on his desk with a raised eyebrow. "What is this?" You inwardly sigh. "Sinc you do not love me and I have no desire to play second fiddle to anyone else I am not staying. Clearly there is no place for me here. This is to repay the treatment I was given. You owe me nothing and I owe you nothing." You're confidant that with relinquishing your rights to your family's business and everything you endured being at his side will more than repay him.
He appears to be lost in thought as he reads over the papers. "You really want nothing in return?" The only thing you had asked for in the divorce agreement was that he not seek you out and that your paths never cross again. You nod and finally he moves to sign them. You turn on your heel and walk out of the door, out of his manor. This corrupt part of the city and out of his life forever.
A sense of peace washes over you as you get into your car and turn the ignition. Ready to begin your own life.
****************************************************
And thus ends another one. I did make some tweaks to the original plot line I was given because it flowed better in this way. I do hope you don't mind. I stuck to what you gave me as much as possible. I hope you enjoyed this one
Tag list:
@tom-pls-fuck-me
@barbuse @mariposa666haruka @cosmocup1d @xthefuckerysquaredx @bokerayboke
@ellieevu @prettytemis @bananagoesbonkers4 @dreamerwasfound @sweet2wth
@tanspostsblog @linxiajei17 @jeondyy @alexatiu
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waywardxrhea · 5 months ago
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Casual - Spencer Reid
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for the CM friends with benefits challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins <3
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
You thought that your sexcapades with Spencer Reid had meant more to him like they did to you, but after a couple of run ins with his BAU teammates you learn that he really meant 'no attachments.'
word count: just over 5k
content: smut (this is sinful whoops) MINORS DNI - 18+ ONLY: oral (fem receiving), public (ish) sexual acts, unprotected PIV, established FWB situation, drinking (just to the point of being tipsy, consent is still given), language, anxiety, angst.
dividers by @firefly-graphics
now playing: casual by chappell roan
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“You finally made it!” your friend Maddie exclaimed gleefully as you walked into the latest bar that she had decided your small group of friends should try out that evening. 
Maddie’s girlfriend Celeste elbowed you gently in the ribs before teasingly asking, “Were you hooking up with Mr. FBI agent again?”
“That’d be, what? The fourth time this month?” Adrianna asked, a slight slur already in her words. She threw an arm around your shoulders and winked exaggeratedly before adding, “And it’s only the fifteenth! Get it girl!” 
“Ha ha, very funny, let’s all gang up on the girl with the best sex life here,” you joked, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the pang of hurt that shot through your gut at the comments. You grabbed a drink menu off the bar’s counter before heading back to your group’s claimed table for the evening, telling your friends, “I actually picked up an extra shift which is why I’m late and Doctor FBI agent is out of state on a case.”
“Awe, she knows when he’s out on a case, how sweet!” Celeste teased before winking and taking a sip of her brightly colored drink. 
“You three are impossible!” you said with a roll of your eyes as you stood up from your spot once more to escape the conversation and order your drink at the bar - a raspberry frozen margarita with sugar rim. Luckily when you got back to the table with your drink, the conversation had turned to Maddie discussing the latest drama at her job, so you sat back and relaxed as you sipped on your first drink of the night. 
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“I can’t believe we finished all that paperwork in time to actually go out tonight,” Derek Morgan said as he stretched his arms, stepping out of his car and into the crisp evening air as he once more met up with the other BAU members at a bar the group gravitated toward when they had time to celebrate wins on cases. 
“Realistically it would have been nearly impossible for us to not get our work done in a timely manner. We got back from the case at ten AM and were all well rested after the flight, so our brains were all in ideal condition to finish the paperwork on time, even accounting for some delays in productivity due to jet lag,” Spencer Reid rambled off as they all walked into the bar, offering a small smile as some of his teammates rolled their eyes playfully in response. 
“Well all I know is that I’m getting a bottle of wine to celebrate wrapping that case,” Emily Prentiss commented as she dug through her purse. 
“What about you, pretty boy? Planning on drinking tonight?” Derek asked as he gently shoulder checked the younger man. 
“Just water,” Spencer replied. “Did you know that during long plane rides you can easily get dehydrated? The humidity within the cabin is usually around ten to twenty percent which is lower than the usual thirty to sixty percent that our bodies are used to. The lower level of humidity causes water to be drawn out of the body and the thirst reflex is diminished so you drink less water while at the same time losing more. I’m surprised that as a team we aren’t more dehydrated overall.”
The conversation was dropped as the team got their drinks ordered and then settled into a round booth at the back of the bar. As Spencer took a sip from his water, his eyes scanned the bar’s patrons to see if there were any people they may have to watch out for as the night goes on and more drinks are consumed. The water he was sipping on suddenly went down the wrong pipe though as he spotted a familiar face at the table adjacent to the team’s. It was you hanging out with a few friends, seeming to have not noticed his arrival. He wasn’t too surprised about that though because judging by the glasses on the table you were at least one and a half margaritas in and you already weren’t the most observant person when you were distracted anyway. 
“Everything okay, Spence?” JJ asked while she patted Spencer’s back. 
Derek’s eyes tracked where Spencer’s had landed and he smirked as he announced to the table, “Pretty boy just saw the girl he bangs on his couch.” 
There was a quiet cacophony of responses to Derek’s comment the moment it fell from his lips. “Remind me to not sit on your couch ever again,” Emily Prentiss commented with a quiet laugh. “Ooh Spence, how serious is this thing?” JJ asked in a sly tone. “I’m glad you found someone, kid,” David Rossi said with a nod and a toast of his glass. “As long as it isn’t going to affect you at work,” their unit chief Aaron Hotchner commented sternly. “Spencer’s dating someone? Why did Derek know this and I didn’t?” Penelope Garcia asked with wide eyes. 
Spencer didn’t respond immediately, suddenly overwhelmed by the barrage of comments, so Derek took a moment to dig the hole even deeper by adding, “He made me swear not to tell baby girl.” He got a mischievous look on his face as he continued, “But one time when I was at his place getting his go bag while he was busy in the shooting range, I found a bra in his dresser. It took some time but I finally got an answer out of him and it turns out this has been going on for a few months now.”
“Spencer Reid!” Penelope scolded while leaning over and playfully swatting at his hand. “How could you not tell me? You know I would have run a background check on her to make sure everything checked out!”
“Everyone slow down!” Spencer said, putting his hands up which caused the noise at the table to die down. “She quite literally ran into me at a coffee shop a few months back but I didn’t tell anyone because, well…we aren’t together. It’s just a casual thing.”
“Just casual? Is she okay with that?” JJ asked, quirking an eyebrow up in question. 
“She hasn’t said anything against it,” Spencer replied. He glanced over at you laughing with your friends one more time before shaking his head and asking, “Can we change the subject?”
“Whatever you want, player,” Derek said with a chuckle before the conversation moved on to whatever the latest sports news was, prompted by Derek’s reaction to something happening on one of the many TVs hanging around the room. 
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Later that night after you had your fair share of appetizers and drinks, your friends were all starting to head home for the evening. “Thank you for coming, we need to do this again soon!” Celeste told you with a fake stern look before she giggled and leaned over into Maddie’s side. 
“We do!” you agreed as you grabbed your glass to finish off the last bit of your drink. “Get home safe!”
“You too!” Maddie said as she attempted to steady Celeste. “You’re calling a cab right?”
“Of course,” you told her with a nod, raising your glass in a toast as the pair headed off toward the door, following Adrianna outside. 
After finishing off your drink, you stood up, trying to balance as well as you could as you grabbed your clutch off of the table and went to the bar to pay off your tab. You weren’t completely drunk, but you were definitely tipsy and you were naturally clumsy, so nights like this were always an interesting time, especially when you were in heels. When you got to the bar to pay though, you were surprised to be informed that your tab was already paid for. “Who did that?” you asked the bartender, your eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Adrianna was just about finished with but still in law school and Celeste was a teacher so you could never ask them to pay for your drinks. Maddie was a paralegal and made a good salary but still, you made enough on your own to pay for your drinks, so who…? 
Your question was answered though when you felt a familiar pair of hands glide along your waist and land on your hips. You turned your head the slightest bit and an immediate heat flooded your body as you whispered, “Spencer… Hi. I thought I heard your voice earlier. When did you get back?” Your emotions were conflicted at his sudden appearance because you had overheard him talking with his group of friends earlier and it had honestly upset you, but now that he was practically wrapped around you, your mind flooded with memories of his hands on your body in the most intimate way…
“Just got back this morning. The team met up here to celebrate and I was surprised to see you here,” he replied. His voice lowered and his lips grazed the shell of your ear as he mumbled, “You look irresistible in that dress by the way.”
“I…Thank you,” you breathed, feeling your heart rate increase as his hands massaged your hips. “And thanks for paying for my drinks, you didn’t have to…”
“But I wanted to,” he told you, gently nipping at your ear lobe which made your cunt clench around nothing in desperation for more of his touch. Truth be told, it had been a week since you and Spencer last hooked up and you hated to admit that you had gotten dependent on his touch lately. 
Your impure thoughts were interrupted by a low whistle piercing the air, and your head snapped in the direction it came from, to see two people you recognized from pictures in Spencer’s apartment. They must be from the BAU as well. You made eye contact with the perky looking blonde woman and offered a smile as the man beside her asked, “Pretty boy, why don’t you introduce us to your friend here?” 
“Oh, I-I thought everyone had left,” Spencer said, instantly making space between the two of you. You looked at Spencer’s panicked expression that quickly changed into something more neutral as he introduced you by name and then said to you, “These are two other members of the BAU. Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia.”
“It’s nice to meet you two,” you told them, a smile on your face as you raised your hand in greeting. “Penelope, you’re the tech girl right?” you asked after a few moments of going through your memories of what little Spencer had told you about his job. 
“That’s me! Resident tech genius because boy genius here refuses to get to know technology!” she replied chipperly. 
“Oh trust me, I know,” you said with a giggle, leaning into Spencer’s side as you remembered the last time you two had gotten lonely at the odd hours of night and wanted to video chat each other to get off. Spencer struggled to get the video call to work and it had ended up being muted for a few minutes before you finally got him to unmute himself so you could hear everything his surprisingly filthy mouth had to say to you. 
“Well it’s nice to finally meet the girl who is getting pretty boy out of his shell,” Derek said, flashing you an award winning smile. 
“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m glad you all are keeping him safe out there in the field,” you replied. 
“All in a day’s work,” Derek said with a chuckle. He checked his watch before exaggeratedly yawning and telling Penelope, “Well baby girl, I think we should get going. Don’t want to hold these two up any longer than we already have. You two have a good one.”
“Thanks Derek,” Spencer mumbled as he watched the pair walk off and out the door. You watched as Spencer’s eyes did another sweep of the bar before his attention was back on you, turning you toward him and pulling you into his front, his hands snaking their way around to your ass and giving a light squeeze as he returned to kissing your ear and neck. 
Your hopeful thoughts from the conversation with Derek and Penelope were instantly abandoned and replaced instead by flashes of your intimate moments with Spencer over the last few months. Your hands drifted upward with one resting on his shoulder and the other lacing into his cropped hair as you let out a quiet moan in Spencer’s ear before asking, “Take me home?”
“God yes,” Spencer whispered, pulling away and turning you around so you were in front of him. To anyone watching it would look like he was simply helping you keep your balance as the alcohol in your system continued to impair your coordination, but only you knew the real reason for the closeness. So as you walked the block to the parking lot, you occasionally let your ass rub against the growing problem in Spencer’s slacks which earned low groans and a squeeze of your hips as you two made your way to Spencer’s car which was tucked away at the back of the lot away from other cars. 
When you got there, Spencer pinned you against the side of his car and his lips were on yours in an instant. After a few seconds, he pulled away for a moment and between panting breaths he asked, “Is this okay? You’ve been drinking, I didn’t want to-”
“You aren’t taking advantage of me,” you promised before he could complete his sentence. “I only had two margaritas and a shot and a ton of food. If you want to breathalyze me, agent, go ahead, but I promise you I’m all here and I’ve missed your hands on me.” As you said this, you carefully hooked one leg around Spencer’s waist and pulled your hips closer together with a smirk gracing your lips. 
“I trust you,” he whispered before your lips crashed together again. You once more laced one hand into his curls and used the other to pull him closer as your tongues began lapping into each other’s mouth, desperation and pure need guiding your actions. Shocks of pleasure began flowing down to your core and you felt light headed as Spencer rutted his hips into yours, seemingly desperate for any sort of friction. The moment that his hard cock brushed against your cunt you let out another moan that was swallowed by Spencer’s mouth before he was moving one of his hands from the grip he had on your ass.
Within seconds you heard the tell-tale sign of the car doors unlocking and Spencer was opening the door for you to get in. Rather than going over to his side to quickly drive to one of your apartments though, he instead pulled at the levers at the base of the passenger seat and began scooting the seat backward and flat, sending you into a near laying position and dizzying your senses. “Spencer, what-?” you asked as you regained your composure after a few moments. 
“I can’t wait,” was his reply before he began tucking himself into the now more open floorboard and pulling your panties down your legs. 
“What about- What if we’re caught-? Your job-!” you managed to get out in clipped sentences. 
“No cameras, no cars near us, it’s fine,” he replied quickly. “I just need to taste you,” he added, his voice almost dark with desire which had your cunt clenching around nothing again as your own desire overtook your anxiety about getting caught.
He hooked your legs over his shoulders and pulled your hips close to his face before you felt the flat of his tongue on you, going from your entrance to your clit before he stopped there and began focusing on your most sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a sinful noise as one hand gravitated toward his hair to hold him close as he began sucking on your clit, not wanting to let go of the feeling. 
After a few breathtaking moments, Spencer pulled away slightly and mumbled, “You’re so wet, fuck…” The vibrations of his voice on your core made a high pitched cry escape your lips and he chuckled before asking, “You like that?”
“God yes,” you replied breathlessly as your chest heaved as the pleasure began to build already in the pit of your stomach. “I missed you,” you found yourself confessing as your hips bucked up to meet his tongue as he returned to his assault of your dripping cunt. Spencer’s only response was to shift and add two fingers to the mix which caused you to cry out his name as he hooked them skillfully, hitting the spot he knew could make you fall apart within seconds if he got it just right. “Oh fuck, right there- Spencer, I- shit…” 
“Come on baby,” he mumbled against you as his long fingers began stroking his target within you, causing the tight coiling feeling in your abdomen to increase more and more. 
It all became too much when Spencer began kitten licking at your clit at the same time and the coil snapped, sending waves of pleasure crashing over your body as your orgasm ripped through you. A loud moan slipped past your lips as your grip on his hair tightened and Spencer pulled his fingers out quickly before beginning to lap at your cunt like a man starved, holding down your erratically bucking hips as you slowly began coming down from your high. Overstimulation took over after a few moments and you gently pushed Spencer’s head away as you panted, trying to catch your breath. Spencer obliged, pulling away and wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking the remnants of you from his fingers as he chuckled. 
You joined in on his laughter after a few seconds and the question that had been on your mind all night slipped past your lips, “Is it casual now?” Knowing it was a loaded question though, you panicked and quickly pulled Spencer up and into a kiss before he could answer. For good measure, you made sure to keep him preoccupied by teasing him as he drove you back to your apartment where he made sure to thoroughly make up for his week away on the case. 
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A few weeks had passed and you were out with your girls again to celebrate Adrianna finally graduating law school. It had been a long and arduous journey for her, but she made it! So before she had to buckle down once more to study for the bar exam, the four of you went out to a nice, new Italian restaurant that had opened only a couple of weeks prior. The restaurant had great reviews, and most importantly to Adiranna, an excellent wine list. So the four of you celebrated with delicious pasta, only one glass of wine for you, and began on dessert - a tiramisu that smelled heavenly. 
As the dessert was being brought out by what seemed like half the kitchen staff who were all warmly congratulating Adrianna, your eyes drifted past them when you heard a distinct nickname being called out teasingly from across the restaurant. Pretty boy. You made eye contact with the man in question and like an instinct your heart rate began to increase and heat began to pool down into your core. It was a Pavlovian response at this point, as Spencer had explained to you the first time you brought up the fact that you would get turned on at the mere sight of him, even if it was in no way sexual. You averted your eyes a moment later and bit your lip as you shifted in your seat, thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the tension building in your core. 
“You okay?” Maddie’s voice asked, breaking through the flashes of when Spencer dragged five orgasms out of you that night after the bar. 
“Just a headache, red wine doesn’t really agree with me,” you told in a half-truth. Red wine really wasn’t your forte, but it was what Adrianna wanted so that’s what you had been sipping on slowly throughout the meal. “I think I’m gonna head to the restroom to take a Motrin, I’ll be back. Maybe the lights will be a bit less harsh in there.”
“Maybe so. I’ll make sure to save you some tiramisu,” Maddie said as you stood up and began making your way across the restaurant to where you noticed the restrooms were earlier. You weren’t really going to the restroom to take some medicine or get away from what really wasn’t even that harsh of lighting in the dining area. There was some part of you that hoped that even from across the restaurant Spencer could tell that you needed him and would get the message to meet you in there. 
Of course as you passed the table Spencer was at, it was filled with the rest of the BAU members, most of whose attention was on the man animatedly talking about the wine and pasta selections. You thought you had gone unnoticed until you heard a low wolf whistle before the comment, “Go and get some loving, pretty boy.”
“Shut it!” you heard the distinct voice of Penelope snap as you kept your head down and made your way to your destination. 
Right as your hand reached up to push the restroom door open, you looked back to see if Spencer had followed you like you hoped, and to your body’s joy he did. Glancing at his lips as he wet them with his tongue, you felt the dampness in your underwear growing as your breathing began to pick up its pace along with your heart. “Hey,” you said simply. 
“Did you want to-?” was all Spencer asked before you nodded vigorously which earned you his lips as he gently pushed you into the single person restroom before locking the door. Spencer’s hands were on you in an instant, one diving into the low v-cut of your dress and beginning to massage your breast, thumb flicking over your already hard nipple as you moaned into his mouth. “If I knew you would have been here I may have dressed a bit nicer,” Spencer commented as he moved from kissing your lips to your neck, your hands desperately roaming his frame as he explored yours. 
“You always look amazing,” you told him earnestly as he hiked you up onto the sink’s counter space and pulled the strap of your dress down your shoulder so he would have better access to your chest. “Oh, God, Spencer…” you whispered as he took your sensitive bud into his mouth and began sucking. It wasn’t long before he moved on from the nipple to the surrounding skin and started to bite and suck which you desperately hoped would leave a mark. You loved it when he marked you because it made things feel more permanent, even if just for a few days.
Before you knew it, your legs were being nudged apart and Spencer’s fingers were teasing your entrance as he asked, “Are you ready?”
“Please,” you begged. The sound was breathy and high-pitched, but you didn’t care much about how desperate you sounded because you knew the sounds you made drove Spencer crazy. 
“Turn around,” he said in a low voice as he helped you jump off of the counter. You didn’t even get the opportunity to tease Spencer or spread his own arousal over his head before you were being bent over the counter with your panties pushed aside as he quickly shoved into your throbbing core. Your moan was muffled as Spencer’s large hand came around and covered your mouth and he gritted out, “We don’t have long.”
You whimpered into Spencer’s hand as he pounded into you from behind, your exposed breast occasionally grazing against the cold countertop causing the most delicious mix of pleasure to course through your body. He always felt so big from behind and tonight was no exception, but the rate and rhythm that he was going at had the coil in your core building quickly. “Spencer, oh, fuck! I-”
“I’m close too,” was Spencer’s grunted out response as the grip he had on your hip tightened as his thrusts began to get sloppy. You don’t know if it was because of the prospect of getting caught, or what, but after a few more thrusts, Spencer was already losing it, whispering, “Baby, I- Shit, shit, shit! I’m coming, fuck-” 
You felt his hot release filling you up and you let out a moan in response, so close to your own peak, but instead of continuing his ministrations like he normally would, Spencer pulled out and began cleaning himself up. You stood there speechless for a moment, still bent over the counter with your heart racing and chest heaving as you recovered from your almost orgasm. Spencer had never left you hanging like that. Maybe to edge you to try and get your body to do what it still hadn’t managed to, but never to deny you an orgasm. 
Spencer approached you from behind once more and recovered your core with your underwear before beginning to straighten up your dress to help you look presentable. He turned you around and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before chuckling and telling you, “I think you may want to fix your makeup a bit.”
“I-I will,” you quietly agreed with a nod, watching as he ducked his head and left you in the bathroom alone, hot, bothered, and honestly a bit pissed off. You quickly relocked the door and went to the restroom, trying to rid your underwear and body of the traces he left behind with his abrupt finish. After cleaning up, you went to work fixing your makeup as best you could and hoped that with all of the wine in their system your friends wouldn’t notice that it was slightly less perfect than when the night began. 
As you quietly made your way out of the restroom, you froze when you heard Derek’s voice coming from around the corner as he asked, “That love toy of yours treating you well?” 
Your blood ran cold as Spencer responded, “Oh, I- uh- Yeah. She is.”
“My man!” Derek said with a bright laugh before the conversation was prompted to return to non-sexual topics by someone else at the table. 
You felt your shoulders slump as your eyes casted themselves down to the floor and you just wanted a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. A sense of dread began to fill your body and your head began to feel heavy as your anxiety started to climb. Trying to breathe through the dizzying feeling, you kept your eyes down as you made your way past the table Spencer was sat at. When you reached your friends, you offered a small smile before telling them, “The headache is just getting worse, I think I need to get going. I’m sorry to be a downer…”
“Hey it’s okay! Get to feeling better!” Maddie told you, offering a smile to try and comfort you. 
“Thanks,” you said as you reached into your small purse and pulled out a few bills that should more than cover your fair share of the meal. “Congrats again, Adri. You earned it!” you told her with a fake chipperness in your voice that you hoped was convincing. 
Once that exchange was over, you quickly made your way out of the restaurant and into the cool night air, trying to convince your lungs to take deep breaths before a full blown panic attack set in. You should have known that all of this with Spencer was too good to be true. You should have known that he just wanted you for sex and nothing more. 
Even though you know you shouldn’t have, after that night meeting Derek and Penelope, you had let your mind wander just a bit and had imagined a little life with Spencer. An apartment smack between both of your jobs, going to the movies together, reading in silence on the couch, maybe even him showing you off at some team party after they closed a particularly hard case. But clearly none of that was in the cards for him… It was just a fantasy you had built in your head.
How did you let this drag on for so long? You pride yourself on being a strong and independent person and for the longest time had sworn off dating after the last disaster that had ruined your life. Yet here you were letting Spencer come crashing into your life, upturning everything you had built for yourself. A searing hatred started to rise in your chest, but it wasn’t directed toward Spencer. It was for yourself.
Your thoughts were interrupted though when a gentle hand was placed on your upper arm to get your attention. Just turning to look at Spencer made you dizzy once again and you braced yourself against the building to keep from falling. “Are you okay?” Spencer asked. “You’re still on the pill right? I didn’t even think about asking, I-”
“Yes I’m still on the stupid pill,” you choked out through your tight throat that felt like it was threatening to close up any moment. 
“Then what’s-?” he tried but you interrupted him. 
“I just thought you thought of me better than a ‘love toy…’” you whispered, the sound barely audible. 
Spencer reached for your hand and squeezed it gently which made your heart soar, but it came crashing down once again when he softly reminded you, “No attachments, remember?”
Panic reared its ugly head again as that dreadful feeling threatened to overwhelm you. So before you could break down in front of Spencer in front of the restaurant, you jerked your hand away and sharply told him, “You can go to Hell, Spencer Reid…” 
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a/n: phew, that was... something! i think i need to go touch some grass... anyways, when i was plotting this, i couldn't help but think of another song that ended up causing their backstory, so i'm going to start writing a part two to this called 'butterfly effect' because i don't like unhappy endings. i hope to see you there! likes and comments are always appreciated!
xo, brooke :)
part two - butterfly effect
1K notes · View notes
entitled-fangirl · 5 months ago
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A gentle wolf.
Cregan Stark x Arryn!reader
Summary: Rumors had spread of the Lord's fierceness. When the reader marries him, she fears if the rumors are true. He defends her at the ceremony, and she believes that perhaps he's just a gentle wolf.
Warnings: talks of sex, cursing, blood and death, crude comments, attempted s.a. (not from our boy), a bedding ceremony, read at your own discretion
A/n: This was based on a few different asks!
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Y/n's father, Lord Arryn,was a firm man. Headstrong, he fought for the best for his children. 
When Rickon Stark accepted the proposal of Y/n Arryn to his only living son, Cregan, the smile that came to her father's face was the only one she'd ever seen graze his features.
This betrothal was the highest honor her family could have received.
She had never met Cregan before, but only being eleven, there was much time before she had to worry about such things. 
The years had moved by quickly, a rapid approach to the girl's end to childish things. 
The rumors through the years of Cregan's growing formidable northern spirit increased tremendously. 
Perhaps some of them were true. 
He's ruthless. Heartless. More animal than human. 
She grew fearful of how her future husband would treat her.
"Perhaps he'll finally get the bratty behavior out of you," her brother mused. 
Her brother's wife, the future Lady Arryn, hit his chest, "Be gone with you. Do not frighten the poor girl."
When he had left, the woman turned to Y/n to speak, but Y/n beat her to it.
"Will it hurt as bad as they say?" She asked in a hushed tone.
She paused to answer her, careful of her word choices, "It… may not be pleasant, my lady."
She had to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. 
"But I'm sure Lord Cregan will be merciful to you."
She wanted to believe her sister-by-law. She really did. 
But even she could not believe the tense look in the woman's eyes.
Cregan was just as intimidating as the rumors had made him. 
Strong. Hardy. Gruff and unforgiving. Stern and harsh.
Yet his eyes always held an unfamiliar look to them, as if his next move was completely undecided to the person that stared into them.
A small smile came to his face as he held a hand out to her, "I'm sure your family wishes to rest from their long travel. I would be overjoyed to show you Winterfell if you'll allow me."
Y/n looked over to her father, who gave his stern look that he always gave. A silent warning to behave.
She took Cregan's hand with her own, trying to still the small tremor to it. Her voice was meek, "I'd like that, my lord."
"Cregan."
"Hmm?" She questioned.
"My name," he began, "It's Cregan. Please use it."
She nodded, "Very well… Cregan."
His smile grew as he studied the girl. As the two began to walk from the main hall, Cregan softly murmured to one of the servants to show her family to their chambers. 
"I do apologize that Winterfell has no lavish garden or beautiful art to view. It's rather lacking in color." He spoke lightly after a while.
She let out a soft breath, relishing in his voice finally. It was low, yes, but not the growl that she had thought it would be. 
"However," he continued. "It has formidable walls and a strong structure. Those who stand on this side of it are safer than King's Landing."
She hummed, "I don't believe the North really focuses on color and art over warmth and survival."
A chuckle escapes his throat, "Aye." His steps slow as they near one of the few balconies, "But perhaps you may breathe life into it."
She wanted to turn and question him, but the view from the balcony caught her attention. 
He made a motion with his hand, encouraging her to look out.
She took slow steps, reaching the bannister as she looked out at what Winterfell had to offer outdoors. 
What she didn't notice was what laid within the walls as well, for Lord Cregan Stark's eyes had softened tremendously as he watched the young woman. 
"I'm afraid I don't know how to be a lady," she lightly remarked as she looked over the courtyard.
He stepped forward to her, meeting her at the bannister, "It is not a matter you know, it is one you learn."
When she looked over, she finally took him in.
The man was every bit the wolf they had said. She knew that. 
But like every Stark, he was still a man. 
"I became the Lord when I was only three and ten," he said. "It was frightening. I was hardly old enough to know the sword, much less to lead such a people as the Northerners." His eyes softened again as he looked into her eyes, "It will come in time. Do not fret."
"Thank you, my lord."
He head tilted lightly, a small twinkle to his eyes.
"Oh. Cregan, I meant," she bit back a small smile at her words.
A surprising chuckle bubbled from him as he looked out over the bannister. "You're a quick learner, pretty girl."
She fought to keep the blush rising to her cheeks at bay.
She couldn't let the wolf sink his teeth into her just yet.
She was completely zoned out for the ceremony. She wanted to be involved and remember it, yes. But everything was just too much.
Right now, she focused on the heavy feeling of Cregan's cloak draping over her shoulders as he stated his vows to protect her under his house. 
She had already stated her part, leaving her to stare up at Cregan. She couldn't look away from how his breath could be seen in the cold chill.
Her attention reverted back when his hands cupped her cheeks and he leaned down to her, placing a heavy kiss to her lips.
Her hands gripped his wrists, thrown off at the feeling.
When he pulled away, a wide grin was pulled across his face. His forehead rested to hers. "I am yours, and you are mine," he whispered to her.
A breath escaped her lungs at his proclamation. 
Perhaps she truly was a lamb brought to appease the wolf. 
But then why was the wolf's smile so charming?
She sat in her seat anxiously, her entire body practically shaking.
She was supposed to sit with Cregan and enjoy the feast. 
But she couldn't stop worrying of the bedding ceremony.
To be naked in front of all these people? It made bile rise in her throat. 
"Something amiss?" Cregan asked as he leaned towards her.
She quickly shook her head, "Just nerves is all."
He nodded slowly, debating a thought. Finally, he handed her his own cup, "For the nerves."
Y/n took it gratefully, sipping the dark wine.
She barely noticed when Cregan stood and kissed the crown of her head. "I'll be back momentarily. I've a few guests to greet."
He straightened himself up, leaving the table to disappear into the crowd.
Perhaps a moment alone in her thoughts would be good-
"Excuse me, Lady Stark," a new voice mused. 
The lady paused, looking up to the voice. Across the table was a man no older than thirty, his surcoat a bright red. His smile was all teeth, and it put her on edge.
"Lord Bolton, my lady." He bowed his head before letting his eyes rake her form, "I was hoping to ask you for a dance."
"Ah," she quietly acknowledged. Her eyes began to look around for her husband. "I was led to believe that a first dance is required between a husband and his w-"
"-Lord Stark doesn't dance, my lady. Most northerners don't."
"I suppose that makes you… different." She said as she studied him.
He grinned again, "Aye. I suppose so."
With no Cregan in sight and no reason to say no despite wishing to, she nodded and began to stand, "Very well, Lord Bolton."
When she rounded the table, she took his hand, forcing a smile to her face. 
The two descended down to the floor as the small quartet began to play.
Lord Bolton's moves were careful and calculated, that much was clear. That alone seemed to describe him wholly as a person as well.
Another man rushed to Bolton, a smile on his face as he leaned to him, "Is it time yet?"
Bolton sighed mid step, "No. I will inform you when it is."
The man sulked off. Before the woman could ask, Bolton made a quick effort to spin her, distracting her from the conversation before. 
She tries to ignore the feeling of Bolton's hand on her waist. It's forced, uncomfortable. She feels controlled under his grip. 
As the song comes to an end, he makes no move to step away. "I must say, my lady, I have been most eager for this."
"Hmm?"
"The ceremony, I mean. I am quite eager for it."
"What do you mean, my lord?"
His hand reaches up to her cheek, his thumb running along her bottom lip as he stares at it, "To tear your clothes from you and watch you be throughly fucked by your lord husband."
Cregan stood with a cup of ale in his hand, his laughs loud through the hall as he joked with a friend of his. With his back turned to the high table, he had yet to notice his wife's absence from it. 
Until a voice whispered in his ear. 
His head turned, his face suddenly serious. "Repeat that?"
"The Lady… she danced with Lord Bolton."
His attention was completely lost from the previous conversation as he looked over to the busy floor. 
Sure enough, he saw Bolton with his filthy hand on her cheek, his eyes full of lust. 
When Bolton reaches up to the shoulder of her dress and tugged harshly, Cregan moved. 
A downright mob formed, eager to begin the bedding ceremony of stripping the couple and marching them to their room to consummate. But any body that moved toward Cregan was met with injury. 
He pushed and shoved bodies left and right, finally getting to Bolton.
Y/n laid on the floor, pushing Bolton's hands away, as well as others, as they pulled on what material they could. She cried out with every sound of the ripping dress. 
Fire filled the Stark, and his voice showed it. 
"GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!" His voice echoed through the hall.
All the attention shot to Cregan, silence filling the room.
He forced himself to breathe. "I said," he muttered lowly, "Get. Away."
One by one, the people stepped away from the girl, creating distance. When Bolton stood, he straightened his clothes, huffing as he did so.
Y/n sat in tears as she pulled up what material she could to cover herself. Her dress was all but tatters, her shift containing large rips that only chilled her already shaking body. 
"Bolton," his voice growled out.
A shiver ran down Bolton's spine at the sound of Cregan's voice. He stepped to the man, "My lord?"
"Explain yourself before I murder you at my wedding."
"The bedding ceremony," he said as if it was obvious, "We were beginning the ceremony."
"And I told you there would be no such thing. Did I not?'
"Aye, but it is tradition," Bolton continued. 
"Aye, but I'll have your fucking head for this," Cregan mocked him.
Cregan knelt down to Y/n, helping her cover herself in what he could, as well as his own body shielding some of the stares. His voice was soft in her ear, "Are you harmed?"
She moved to speak, but her breath was all hiccups from her tears, so she shook her head instead. 
Cregan turned his head to look at the nearest servant.
"Bring me Ice."
Whispers moved across the hall immediately.
What would Lord Stark need with his longsword?
Soon, Ice was in his hand, and he stood from his wife to glare at Bolton. "I'm going to take something from you. But I'm noble enough that I'll let you choose."
Bolton's eyebrows shot up, "Take, my lord? W… What do you-"
"I was not finished," Cregan growled. He paced back and forth in front of the man. "I can take your hand, your tongue, your feet," he paused as a smirk came to his lips, "…or your cock."
"This is outrageous-"
Ice was suddenly pointed at Bolton's throat, "The next words from your mouth will be your answer or I will take your head entirely."
When silence filled the room again, Cregan turned his head barely to his servant again, "Get my cloak for my wife to cover."
When the warmness returned to the woman's shoulders, she pulled the cloak to her as much as she could, hoping it would sooth the chill and embarrassment that had settled into her bones.
"Take her to our chambers," he muttered lowly, not letting his eyes leave Bolton. "I'd hate to ruin her wedding night with the sight of blood."
Cregan met her a few hours later as he entered their chambers. His shoulders were still tense and his eyes still held fire, but it was better than before. "Forgive me."
She looked up from the sofa, a new, unripped shift covering her body now. "For what?" She asked softly.
Her eyes were still puffy, her nose a bright red from irritation. 
It didn't help his anger.
"I made a vow to protect you under my house and my name and I've already failed you."
"No, forgive me," she sniffled. 
His mouth opened to rebut against her, but no words came out.
"I… I did not mean to mislead Lord Bolton. I… I have sullied the Stark name. Dirtied it with… with a mere dance. I am sorry."
Cregan wanted to scoff. "What?"
"I mislead him. He-"
"Quiet," he said. "You've done nothing wrong."
"I've not angered you?" 
He took a step to her.
Her sniffles grew to hiccups, "Please don't."
His confusion grew, "What are you speaking of?"
But when he stepped to her again, she flinched away, pushing herself further down the sofa. 
"My sweet wife, please speak plainly," he tried to reason with his hands up.
"I… I can be better. Give me a chance, please."
"B…Better?" He scoffed. "You are an image of the Mother herself. I hold no anger to you."
She hiccuped again as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, "None?"
"No. Only a creature of a man would ever be angered at his wife so. I defended you, did I not?"
Y/n considered his words. She was deep enough in thought that she didn't notice Cregan's closing steps until he was sat on the sofa next to her. 
His hand reached up to her chin, pushing her face up to look at him. "I promise. I promise to be entirely too gentle with you."
This was no wolf at all.
All of this time, she feared the Warden of the North. The wielder of Ice. The Stark Wolf. 
She hadn't considered that she had married Cregan. 
"What have you done to Lord Bolton?" She dared to ask him.
His head tilted, "Enough to help him learn better."
He may have been all of those frightening things outside of their chambers. But for her, he was only Cregan. 
He laid her down with careful movements, his touch light as he began to undress her. 
She was unsure what happened to Bolton that night, but rumors spread throughout the castle that the man's blood had to be cleaned from the Winterfell floors over a dozen times over to get the stain out.
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Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, 8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest,
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charafansmile · 3 months ago
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she literally didint abandon them. play the game its heavily implied she stayed and waited and only left when her people BETRAYED her! when asgore didint take back his declaration of war she saw how bloodthirsty her people were when one of her children was human. she never abandoned them they clearly wouldn't have listened to her and she LEFT TO SAVE THE HUMANS THAT WOULD FALL! HER LEAVING WAS PRAGMATIC COMPARED TO ASGORE BEING A COWARD!
she left to DO something about it while asgore cowardly waited hoping another human would never fall because he let his anger get the best of him and then continued to be a coward and lead his people on by not leaving when he killed the first human.
I love asgore hes so very complex and interesting but toriel literally didint do anything wrong and did not NEED any comeuppance especially in pacifist since shes RIGHT! her ideals conflict multiple times in the story in the neutral endings and her arc is about breaking the cycle of grief to fight asgore instead of just trying to protect the humans from him! Her ideals are punished in the neutral endings where she gets exiled again by queen undyne but shes meant to be right in the pacifist ending since her hope that humans and monsters can get along is proven true.
if you really think she needs 'comeuppance' i reallyyy want to know your opinions on asgore and sans cause i only ever see this weird take from sexist fans who dont understand her and are exclusivly sans fans or think asgore did nothing wrong.
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Transcript: Sometimes, I wish we had a scene in classic Undertale where Torial gets her comeuppance for abandoning Monsterkind… I wish Undyne or somebody went off at her about it. It just seems unjust for her to get away scot-free… You are free to disagree.
#her people betrayed her and she was the only one of them to view revenge as a bad thing that would lead to more bloodshed#she was level headed enough to understand if asgore declared war then monster kind would be wiped out for good she was thinking more clearl#than he was and didint make any hasty grief fueled decisions she couldn't take back like he did. she was grieving just as much as him#and she handled it better but she understandably LEFT when it became obvious her people who KNEW chara & asriel were willing to let their#memory be tarnished! yes she made mistakes but they are directly addressed in canon and shes clearly meant to be in the right compared to#asgore! she didint get off scott free either! six of her children died by asgores hand and she spent a millenium punishing herself and neve#moving on from her grief! asgore had MULTIPLE support networks and times to pull back his decleration of war he didint need to kill six kid#but until she met sans toriel was by herself and needed to watch 2 of her children die#her people turn against her along with her husband#and then she had to (BY HERSELF) try and protect 7 children from him knowing her HUSBAND killed them in her dead childrens name#its never even stated that she fought all of the 6 humans before frisk some of them may have snuck out and she may have even been seperated#from them or been tricked by them. her fighting frisk is clearly the first time shes fought one of them#and its treated as the tragedy it is not her just beating them up for no reason she just doesnt want asgore to kill them!#okay rant over i hate this stupid idea that shes at fault or needed a reality check when shes meant to be the one giving one
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vladtoly · 22 days ago
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Close Call
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Dae-Ho x Female!Reader
Requested: Yes
Proofread: No
Word Count: 690
A/N: I need to preface this by saying I really loved Thanos' character and I simply portrayed him this way for the blurb. No hate for him, I swear! Also I did struggle a bit making Dae-ho the jealous type, so he may come off more protective than anything. Hope it's still good, thank you for requesting!
As the second game came to a close, you sat anxiously on your bunk, watching the entrance doors. Your boyfriend had been on a different team, though not by his own choice. Originally, you had been with his group, but when player 222 had come to them, revealing she was pregnant? You immediately gave up your spot. Dae-ho looked like he wanted to object and offer to leave instead, but you silence him with a simple side eye. Whatever group you were in, you’d assumed you would be fine, or at least hoped. And you were.
Now you were just worried about him.
“Senorita, excuse me. Mind if I join?”
You sighed as a weight landed on your mattress, the voice not waiting for your answer. Just a glance at your side revealed it to be Thanos. You hadn’t even been in his group, just sitting in the one behind his- but that didn’t stop him from turning around and dropping pick up lines constantly. It had almost been a relief when it was your group’s turn.
Shifting away, you kept your eyes on the entrance. “I do, actually, thanks.”
The man ignored your answer and made himself comfortable, man spreading and propping his arms behind him on the mattress. He seemed to know how to make any space crowded, all on his own.
“Don’t know why you’re looking at the door. All you need is right here,” he purred out, leaning his head closer to you.
“I’m waiting on my boyfriend. You can leave.” Your reply was short and sharp, hoping maybe obvious disinterest would make him leave. But you also doubted it.
The weight moved closer, and as soon as you felt a hand on your arm, your head finally snapped to look at him. “Do you know what ‘leave’ means?”
His face split into a goofy grin, obviously high off one of the pills you saw him pop earlier. “Well, I finally got you to look at me, didn’t I?”
Before you could respond, a hand grabbed Thanos’ hoodie and dragged him off the bed. When the owner of the hand came into view, you were more relieved to see Dae-ho. He was alive. Thank God.
“Why were you touching her?” he nearly yelled, his attention directed at Thanos.
Oh, right. You almost forgot about him.
Thanos just laughed, shoving himself out of your boyfriend’s grip. He brushed himself off as you quickly went to Dae-ho’s side.
“She looked lonely. I was just trying to help, you know?” Thanos leaned closer. “When you finally drop dead, then I’ll really help her.”
“You fucking bas-“Your words were cut off as Dae-ho lands a hard blow to his cheek.
Hobbling back, Thanos tried to lunge forward only to have the rest of your group step in front of him, making a wall. Your eyes were trained on him until a gentle hand touched your cheek, directing you to look away. As you turned, your eyes met with soft brown ones, wide with worry. “Hey, are you okay? What happened, what did he do?”
The sound of your boyfriend’s voice grounded you. You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Nothing, he didn’t get the chance.”
His shoulders finally relaxed, resting his forehead on yours. “God, remind me to never leave you alone again.”
“Dae-ho, he was more of an annoyance than anything. He’s been doing shit like that all day.” You sighed out.
He groaned, tilting his head to look at the ceiling. “Trust me, I noticed.”
The words sank in. A small smirk began to form on your face. “Were you watching us earlier?”
“Kind of impossible not to. I wanted to check on you, and he also happens to be the loudest guy here. Makes it hard not to notice.” His eyes remained on the ceiling as he spoke.
Chuckling softly, you gently moved him back to look at you. “I’m okay. I’m right here and okay. Thank you for looking out for me.”
A deep sigh left him as he placed a firm kiss to your forehead, mumbling against the skin, “Someone has to.”
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Squid Game headcannon/blurb requests are OPEN!
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daydreamkissesxo · 4 months ago
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Father Charlie x reader| Sinner part 2; The only piece of Heaven I have ever had
Warnings; heavy smut, breeding kink, mentions of body image, blasphemy, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, manipulative priest? (I think that’s all🙈) 18+
My link won’t work to add part 1 but I am trying!😭
Father Charlie paid you little to no attention during mass, he cruelly ignored you for the sake of his own sanity. The thought of you now sat amongst your family completely bare beneath your dress as your arousal seeps through the fabric and onto the church pew made his head spin.
You'd become increasingly agitated by his ignorance, perhaps his idea of repentance was your humiliation.
You'd began to fidget with your fingers nervously as you pray for time to pass faster, desperate for even a glimpse of his attention when he wasn’t occupied by the scriptures of the bible.
Your heart briefly stopped as you watched father Charlie acknowledge a young woman in the front row with a warm smile, a smile he'd always saved for you.
You grew both jealous and hurt, anxious that your confession had pushed him further away.
Mass had ended just as predicted, you'd barely left your seat before a swarm of persistent mothers surround you and your family, their sons left lingering behind.
"Y/N, have you given any more thought to our proposal?" One asked, pushing her way through the small crowd built around the church pew where your family sat.
You were barely present, your eyes fixated on father Charlie who carelessly fiddled with his papers at the alter as he continued to avoid your gaze.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t.” You abruptly reply, rising from your seat only to be met with the hands of another mother as she places them on your hips.
“My love, you have the most precious birthing hips I have ever seen.” She says, gesturing others to look as she nods down at them.
“No doubt a gift from god. You would bear beautiful children.” Another says, her smile warm as she looks up at you with hopeful eyes.
Father Charlie scoffed quietly in disgust as he overheard, his arrangement of the papers in front of him carelessly thrown down as he loses his care for them.
Usually he wouldn’t intervene, but your desperate confession and the unfinished business between the two of you left him with no choice.
He painted on a warm smile and walked over, the crowd immediately dispersing at his voice.
“You seem to be very popular with the precious mothers here, Y/N.” He attempted to sound sincere, though it came off slightly differently.
He saw the lingering look of upset in your eyes as your gaze met his, it was pleasant to know how desperately you longed for his attention.
“Oh Father, Y/N would be just perfect for my son. Wouldn’t you agree?” A woman asks, her eyes lit up with hope as she so greatly valued his opinion.
Of course he disagreed, nobody’s son was worthy of you but he couldn’t entirely crush her spirits due to his own jealousy.
“I’m sure he’d make a wonderful husband to any woman, but I’m not qualified to matchmake anyone here.” He kindly replied, flashing her a warm smile he knew she loved to see.
He turned his attention towards your mother who stood behind you, a kind but stern woman who undoubtedly kept you close.
“Mrs Y/L/N. Would I be able to keep Y/N behind once you leave? I have something I’d like to ask her opinion of.”
She was very trusting of father Charlie, believing that whatever it was he needed you for would only add to your worth as a self respecting Catholic.
“Of course, father Charlie. Y/N would be honoured to help.” she replied, placing her hand on your shoulder to caress it with her thumb.
“Wonderful. It may take a while, but I’ll see to it that she gets home safely.”
No words were spoken as you followed father Charlie back to his office, the silence was unnerving, and now you were left to wonder whether you'd gotten the entire thing so very wrong.
Father Charlie stood aside and held the door open, extending an arm to gesture you in.
Your heart pounded as you prepared yourself for the stern lecture you were expecting, barely able to look at him as you step in.
You jumped slightly at the slam of the door, desperately avoiding his gaze as he turned to face you.
He sensed your nerves, but chose to ignore them as he walked around you and over to his desk.
He cleared his throat, ridding the room of silence as he finally spoke.
"Take your dress off and give it to me." He simply said, removing his stole and neatly folding it before placing it onto his desk.
Such simple instructions and yet you were frozen, barely able to process what you'd just been commanded.
"Do I need to repeat myself, Y/N?" He asked in an oddly calm tone, looking up from his semi unbuttoned cassock.
You dared to glance down at the skin that was now exposed before quickly coming back to your senses out of fear he may grow frustrated with your ignorance, frantically shaking your head.
"No, father."
Your hands fell to the hem of your dress, bunching it up before pulling it upwards and over your head to free your body of it.
Your lower half was left bare while your breasts were held by a simple white lace bra.
In the time it had taken you to remove your dress, father Charlie had discarded the garments from his upper body, leaving him only in black tight fitting trousers with a protruding bulge.
You slowly lifted your head in shame, your eyes widening a little at the sight of his beautifully toned upper body that was always so well hidden.
Your hand trembled as you held out your dress for father Charlie, he smiled so casually as he took the dress from your hands.
He was cautious not to show any dramatic physical reaction to your barely clothed body, but his cock throbbed at the ethereal beauty that stood before him.
You watched as he folded your dress as neatly as his own garments, placing it on the desk beside his vestments.
His patience and self restraint was oddly terrifying, how could anyone have such great control?
He reached for your hand, linking your index finger with his as he gently guided you to stand before him.
He took a moment to admire the beautifully soft skin that you'd always so modestly hidden, his gaze slowly falling to your waist before he very gently took hold of it.
Your hips had gained so much attention amongst the overbearing mothers of the church, and he finally understood why.
They were perfect for bearing a child, one he could only wish would be his.
"It sickens me to think your family would be willing to let such unworthy men defile their beautiful daughter.." he whispers, grazing his fingertips along your skin in search of your hip bone.
Your breath grew audibly heavier, your lips parting in awe as you gaze up at him in wonder.
"Men who would selfishly prioritise their own pleasure and leave you completely dissatisfied. You don't want that, do you?" He asks, his darkened gaze finally meeting yours.
Your heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze, shaking your head in agreement with his words.
"Not me, Y/N. I'd worship you like I worship the Lord, you'd never live a day dissatisfied."
His hand slipped between your physically wet thighs which you slightly parted to accommodate his touch, his extended middle finger tracing over your folds.
He watched as your eyes widened, your soft gasp being all the encouragement he needed to take it even further.
He slid his finger through your slippery folds, coating it in your dripping arousal before circling your clit with the pad of his fingertip.
Your explosive moan was truly devilish, who knew something so obscene could slip past your innocently soft lips.
He brought his free hand up to your mouth, firmly holding it over your lips to silence you.
"Sh, sweet girl. People will wonder what I'm doing to you.." he chuckled sadistically, amused by the apologetic look in your eyes. 
"Is this what you fantasised about when you touched yourself like this?" He whispered, increasing the speed of his circling touch.
You whimpered against his hand, your knees threatening to buckle as you'd never felt such pleasure.
He glanced over at the small single bed he'd placed beneath a very low window, so low that if he were to continue his carefully planned sexual activity with you beneath it, someone would undoubtedly see.
He slowly withdrew his hand from between your thighs, smirking as you grew visibly upset by the sudden lack of touch.
"I want you to lay on the bed, on your back with your knees bent."
He watched as you complied despite your confusion, bringing his hand up to lips to suck at his drenched fingertip as he followed you over.
He groaned under his breath with pleasure at the taste of your sweet nectar, running his tongue along the tip of his finger to truly savour the taste.
His hands fell to the buttons of his trousers and you watched in anticipation as he unbuttoned them, the sound of the zip coming undone caused a shiver to rush down your spine.
He knew by prolonging your suffering you'd be desperate and willing to comply with anything he asked.
He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear before slipping both them and his trousers down past his hips and thighs, freeing his painfully hard cock.
Once past his calves, he stepped out of his trousers and stood at the foot of the bed before placing his hands on your knees to spread your legs.
The sheets beneath you were visibly stained as your arousal drip from your aching folds, the cold air that brush past your now exposed core causing goosebumps to spread down your thighs.
"Missionary, because we're in the lords house." He whispered as he lowered his head to press a sloppy kiss to your knee, smirking against it as he felt your knee tremble slightly.
Father Charlie knelt between your thighs, forcing them to part further to accommodate him before he places a hand beside your head to support him as he hovers over you, your folds brushing against his length.
Your body tenses beneath him as you place a trembling hand on his shoulder, staring up at him completely doe eyed with a slightly panicked expression.
"Father..we can't-"
He knew what you were going to say, yet he did not want to hear it, so instead he slid his free hand between your thighs and roughly inserted his middle and index finger into your core knowing the reaction it would gain from you.
Your breathy moan was even more explosive than before, your back began to arch and your head started to tilt back and this time, he didn't silence you.
"I'm saving you, my sweet girl. Do you want another man's dirty hands all over your precious body?" He whispers soothingly, his fingers gliding in and out of you.
"I want you, father. Only you." You moan out desperately, your walls fluttering around his fingers which forces a bead of precum to leak from his tip.
He could no longer prolong his own pleasure after hearing your desperation, withdrawing his fingers to take hold of his length to stroke it in preparation.
He bowed his head to look down at himself, aligning his tip with your hole before very slowly inserting himself.
He groaned as he felt your virginal walls stretch around him, barely able to lift his head as he was so overwhelmed with pleasure but your pained moan forced him to do so.
"You're okay, it'll pass..it's okay." he whispered reassuringly, cupping your cheek softly as he continued to push himself into you until fully inserted.
You winced in discomfort, but the pain was tolerable due to father Charlie's attentive nature.
He waited until the pain had subsided a little before thrusting into you, the moan that escaped your lips with each thrust forced out small moans of his own.
Just knowing he was taking away the privilege from whatever man your family chose to marry you made him crave more of you, he was determined to ruin you for anyone else.
His thrusts increased rapidly, eliciting almost pornographic style moans from your lips.
He watched as your clothed breasts bounced with each movement, cupping one of them before lowering his head to kiss at your collarbone.
"You've always been so special to me, Y/N." He whispered against your skin, releasing his grip from your breast to drag his fingertips down towards your core as it slips between your thighs.
Your hips naturally lifted from the bed in anticipation for his touch, whimpering loudly as his index and middle finger circle your clit at a rapid pace.
It took seconds for your legs to start jerking, your hips bucking upwards while tears flood your waterline.
"Father.." you whisper with uncertainty as your breath trembles, involuntarily throwing your head back as the unknown sensation that builds in your lower stomach grows larger.
You gasp loudly as an unfamiliar wave of pleasure washes over you, tears rolling down your cheeks as your eyes squeeze shut while your body writhes beneath him as you ride it out.
The unholy display of pleasure beneath him was a sight he’d never forget, now he understood why it was so forbidden, addiction to it would be inevitable.
The sensation of your walls tightening around him along with your desperate whimpering brought him to his own climax, yet he had no intention of withdrawing from you to release his seed.
His thrusts faltered as he began to coat your walls with his semen, bowing his head as he could barely find the strength to hold it.
His grunting drowned out the sound of your whimpers, his body slowly collapsing on top of yours while he remained inside of you.
Your body lay paralysed beneath him, panting heavily as you attempt to catch your breath while processing the fact you had unprotected sex with your local priest who didn’t seem to care.
“I..I can get a plan B..” you say timidly as you stare at the ceiling above you, wondering whether the mention of it will force him to realise what he’d done.
He somehow found the energy to lift his head up enough to look down at you, a disapproving expression replacing the pleasure filled one he had a moment ago.
“You will do no such thing, contraception is forbidden. You should know this, sweet girl.”
He had to desperately fight back the smile threatening to appear as he found it all too amusing, unprotected premarital sex with a man of the church was also forbidden though he was willing to bend those rules.
Tagging @2yeshes bc they asked me to, I hope part two meets everyone’s needs🫶🏼
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propertyofwicked · 7 months ago
Text
SCANDALOUS - OP
summary - in which oscar discovers what type of books his girlfriend is actually reading
warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff
this is my first oscar piece and i am considering a part 2! lemme know what you think! <3 (also sorry for disappearing my life has been all over the place)
masterlist the playlist
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as they arrived at the silverstone track, oscar and y/n could feel the palpable anticipation in the air. navigating through the crowds was something y/n could only compare to her idea of personal hell. people everywhere, sporting the bright colours of different teams, people approaching the two of them, holding out hats and phones for oscar to sign. if this was friday, y/n hated to think what the rest of the weekend would be like - hopefully she could arrive later than oscar and avoid the hustle and bustle.
"are you going to be okay here?" oscar asked softly, concern evident in his eyes, as he led the two of them into mclaren hospitality. he wasn’t blind, if anything he could read her emotions better than he could read his own - he knew she was overwhelmed, but not quite at breaking point.
"yeah, i've got my book and headphones,” y/n replied, patting her bag quickly, “i'll find a quiet spot,” she added with a nod, giving him a reassuring smile.
“i’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked her again, holding her wrists softly in his hands.
“i’ll be here,” she replied, still smiling as she stepped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.
y/n watched as oscar left, before turning on her heel and trying to find a cosy corner, tucked away from the commotion where she could read her book in peace. and as she sat with her back to the wall, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that no one could walk behind her and glimpse at what she was reading. her flushed cheeks may slightly give it away to anyone who recognised the book, but as she flipped through the pages she was met with nothing but pure, indulgent smut. it was a guilty pleasure that she seldom admitted to enjoying, and whilst she was more than content with oscar, she was too shy to admit she’d want him to do more than half of the acts she reads about.
maybe next time, she should bring a murder mystery book with her, instead of reading 82 pages of unforgiving sex scenes that are described in such detail that she could almost imagine how oscar would recreate it beautifully - yeah, maybe not the right thing to be reading at your boyfriend’s place of work.
“hi,” a voice interrupted, causing y/n to jump quickly as she looked up to see one of the hospitality staff stood in front of her, “i was just wondering if we would be able to steal this chair? i can find you somewhere else to sit - it’s just a guest would like to sit here.”
“of course,” y/n replied, smiling up at the nervous girl before moving to shove everything back into her bag, “i probably should go on a walk anyways.”
“thank you so much, and sorry for making you move - the guest is a sponsor, so they expect us to move heaven and earth to accommodate them,” the employee added with a grin.
“i understand,” y/n replied, laughing lightly as she stood, “your hair is so beautiful by the way.”
“thank you,” the girl smiled, blushing at the compliment.
oscar had been engrossed with his team, discussing strategy and making adjustments for the practice session, when he realised it had been several hours since he’d seen his girlfriend. and once the practice session had finally ended, with a full team debrief, he made it his mission to find her.
"have you seen y/n around?" oscar inquired casually, glancing over at lando who had walked into hospitality with him.
"yeah, she was sitting in the corner over there," lando chuckled, gesturing towards the quieter section of the hospitality area, “….but she’s not there anymore,” he added, trailing off as he noticed the empty chair.
"thanks mate, glad you’ve still got those keen observational skills," oscar replied sarcastically, “don’t know what i’d do without you around.”
“hey! i was just telling you where i last saw her!” lando defended, holding his hands up, ”she’s probably in a quiet corner somewhere, reading that book. she’s probably the only person that didn’t notice i’d even walked in earlier ‘cos she was nose deep in it.”
“sounds about right,” oscar hummed, pulling his phone out to shoot her a quick where are you text.
sure enough, oscar found y/n in a quieter corner, still engrossed in her book. he approached her quietly and gently tapped her shoulder. y/n looked up, removing her headphones and quickly closing the pages before smiling warmly at him.
"hey there, lost track of time?" oscar asked, sitting down beside her, pulling his legs up to his chest as his back leant on the wall.
y/n nodded, "yeah, i guess i did. how was practice?"
"pretty good," oscar replied, "we made some solid improvements. what about you? what are you reading?"
y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her expression. "oh, it's just a book. nothing special."
oscar raised an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to share. "come on, it can't be that bad. is it some secret spy novel or something?"
y/n chuckled nervously. "no, nothing like that. just... personal. i'll tell you about it later, maybe."
"alright, fair enough," he replied, "ready to head back to the hotel?"
y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”
“that bored, huh?” he asked as he stood, extending his arms to help pull her from the floor.
“not bored, just-”
“overwhelmed? hungry? eager to see me after a shower?”
“always.”
“good to know,” he added, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "you know, you're quite the mystery sometimes," he teased gently as they began to walk to the car.
"keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" y/n smirked, “no fun in being predictable.”
they arrived at the hotel room, and as they settled in, the atmosphere relaxed. y/n flopped down on the bed, and oscar joined her, laying his entire body on top of hers, her hands moving to stroke along his back softly.
"so, how's the book?" oscar asked again, with a playful glint in his eye.
y/n rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "it's good. maybe i'll let you read it someday."
"wow, such a privilege!" oscar feigned shock, “but how would i ever repay you for such an offer.”
"don't push your luck, piastri,” she replied, her arms grabbing his sides in attempt to push him off. he laughed, rolling to the side to lay next to her.
"alright, alright. i won't push. but seriously, thanks for coming with me today. it means a lot."
y/n's expression softened. "of course. i wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i'm lucky to have you, you know that?"
y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "i think we're both pretty lucky."
“i’d be even luckier if you let me read that book of yours,” he grinned.
"you're ridiculous.”
"only for you," he replied with a grin, his arm reaching across her waist for his fingers to draw circles into the skin of her stomach. his head dipped, trailing kissed along her clothed shoulder, until he was resting on his arm, hovering over her slightly, his lips finding their way to the skin of her neck.
“please,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.
“fine,” y/n replied with a loud huff, pushing herself up from the bed to retrieve the book from her bag. oscar remained on the bed, resting on his side and using his arm to hold his head up as his eyes followed her across the room.
she launched the book at him, watching as it landed just shy of his stomach.
“come and join me,” he beckoned, shuffling himself up the bed, book in hand.
“i’d rather stand here, actually.”
“ok weirdo.”
the room fell to a silence as oscar opened the book, choosing to open at a page in the middle.
“why is this all highlighte- oh. OH. oh wow,” he spoke aloud, grimacing slightly in between raising his eyebrows at the literature, “this is - is that even possible? how has he got her leg up there?”
“you can stop now,” y/n begged, climbing on the bed and stretching over in attempt to snatch the book from his hands.
“no, i don’t think i will,” he teased, raising the book above his head, though at an angle where he could still read it, “ ‘…..he said, grabbing my other leg and placing them both behind his head’ - this girl is flexible jesus.”
“oscar piastri you give me that book right now.”
“ok! ok!” he said defensively, “….on one condition.”
“…what?” y/n responded cautiously, noticing the way he smirked at her.
“you tell me, is this something you wanna try?” he asked, “the things in this book? is that what you want?”
“minus the kidnapping part….maybe?” she replied, fiddling with her fingers.
“maybe, huh?” he teased, placing the book to his side before grabbing her waist to pull her into him. y/n straddled his lap, though desperately tried to look anywhere but his face, desperate to hide the flush of her cheeks, only worsened by looking in his eyes.
“honestly, i just wanna know if im that flexible,” she replied with a laugh, still playing anxiously with her fingers whilst trying to fight against her own awkwardness.
“i know you can get at least one leg up there,” oscar joked, fingers tickling at her sides playfully, “although, you’re not very good at twister.”
“we have played twister ONCE. and i was drunk. you cannot hold that against me.”
“drunk or not, your foot was still dangerously close to going up my ass.”
“and yet no assholes were harmed.”
“speaking of.. does this book mention anyth-”
“if you think you are putting ANYTHING up there you are very much mistaken mr piastri,” y/n argued, holding his jaw in her hands to make her point clear.
“mr piastri? i prefer da-”
“NOPE! LA LA LA,” she interrupted, quickly covering her ears before he finished his sentence.
“im kidding, im kidding,” he laughed out breathlessly, holding on to her hips as his body shook with laughter, “so about this flexibility thing.”
“let me stretch first,” she told him, kissing his lips softly. y/n moved to climb off him, only half serious about stretching, but his hands stayed put on her waist, pulling her back into him. he kissed her again, a hand traveling up her body to rest on her jaw and he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip briefly.
“no need, i know a good way to get you warmed up,” he told her cheekily, his lips returning to her neck once more, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear.
“oh really?” she replied, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion, “please, go on. tell me more.”
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