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just-some-random-blogger · 23 hours ago

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OK. WE have to start with the fact that your summary is 🫵THAT🫵 WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT I THOUGHT I WAS HERE FOR CUTE FUN TIMES WITH CREGAN WHAT IS HAPPENING WHY IS HE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE HELLO??????

YOU CRUMPLE THE letter in your fist, hearing the parchment wrinkle with a satisfying sound. Then, you throw it into the flames, watching as the fire grows slightly bigger, and the ball uncurls, alight for a second, before it is fully consumed.

..... I'm not gonna lie to you... I don't remember what I meant to say ...... I THINK ITS JUST ME PANICKING THAT WERE STARTING OFF LIKE THIS WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SIT CRISTI WHERES THE FUN TIMES NO IM SCARED

You had not realized you had started to measure time like this. Before and After Luke’s death, as people did with Before and After the Conquest.

Horrible reality but beautifully put my gosh I just ate chocolate pudding or something YUMMM

Whatever he is doing, hunched over his desk, is interrupted. “You cannot do this to me! Mother will not allow it.”

PFFFT IM SO SORRY HUNCHED OVER HAS ME GAGGED IDC IDC IF IM WASTING MY MEME REACTIONS ON THIS BUT ITS GIVING VERY MUCH THE POSTURE MEME

EXPECTATION VS REALITY

Also I get it now. I get why we're starting like this damn I was scared you made cregan into a cheater

But grief has made you into live lighting, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

UGHHHHHH WHAT THE HECK THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL I KEEP SAYING IMMA STEAL YOUR WORDS BECAUSE DAMN BUT ALAS I CANT REMEMBER TO DO IT COS IM NOT BUILT LIKE THAT WTFFFFF

“He has put a wife in the grave already.”

🧍‍♀️ OH. OK. I GET IT NOW FR FR

[...] You know the dangers of childbirth. Perhaps even better than I.”

😀 I love how he thinks this would comfort her

You hated being second in anything.

❤️‍🩹 I felt that

Being a twin meant having to share everything, including the love of those around you.

THEYRE TWINS? I FEEL LIKE I DIDNT COPY IT BUT RHAENA AND BAELA ARE TWINS TOO???? WHATTTT IM GAGGED I FEEL LIKE IM ALWAYS FINDING OUT PPL ARE TWINS IN YOUR FICS

This is the part where we say together 🗣️FUCK🗣️YOU🗣️VISERYS🗣️ AND YAH IDK IF I COPIED IT OR NOT BUT THE PART WHERE YOU SAID HE CHOSE ALICENT MARRIED HER OUT OF LOVE 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 THATS WHY YOU ROTTED WHILE STILL ALIVE FUCK YOU IM SPITTING AT YOUR GRAVE

“You said you were afraid of childbirth, and he already has an heir. There is no better solution.”

CAN HE SHUT THE FUCK UP

As Jace prepares a scathing comeback, face scrunched up in mirrored displeasure to your own, [...]

They're so siblings™

“Why can the whole castle hear your quarrel?”

🤣🤣🤣 LIKE I SAID SO SIBLINGS

“My fault?!” He says, placing his hands on his hips. “Apologies, I think they didn’t hear your screeching about Lord Stark in Driftmark!”

NEJDJKDJ LOL THEYRE SO SIBLINGGGS ME TO MY SISTER

“I did. I think it is for the best. You will be safer next to Cregan Stark, in Winterfell, than you could ever be here.”

I HATE HER

[...] her mind is already made.

I understand her. I hate her

“You did because I have no dragon. I bet you are scheming to send Rhaena away too!”

💔💔💔💔💔 she knows her all too well

“I had to find out from a letter from fucking Cregan Stark. I am not leaving. You cannot make me. ”

I HATE THAT FOR HER. 🫵SAY🫵IT🫵TO🫵 MY 🫵FACE🫵

“Listen to me!” She says, shaking you hard. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to register them. “Listen to me! Luke is dead. He is dead, and you will obey me because I cannot bear to lose any more of my children. You are going North. Your Queen commands it.”

I understand her 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️😞😞😞😞😞 I hate her

He didn’t care if he appeared too eager, his usual stoicism was failing him in the face of his nerves.

GOLDEN RETRIEVER HUSBAND IM SO CONFUSED???? THIS GOT ME GIGGLING EVEN THO I WAS LIKE WHY HE EXCITED (spoiler he wasn't)

[...] playing Come-into-my-castle and Bears-and-maids. Cregan had unfortunately been the maid many more times than he preferred.

A naive little princess would never survive in the North.

??????????????? OH OK I GET IT BUT HELLO YOU HAVENT EVEN MET HER???

The Lady of Winterfell couldn’t be some frail little thing, she had to be strong. Strong enough to hold Winterfell in his absence if needed, were the threat from beyond the Wall come to pass.

YoU HAVENT EVEN MET HER MY BROTHER IN CHRIST CHILL

If he had to remarry and choose a southron, Cregan would have preferred a stronger one.

To receive the toothless dragon in his home and keep it safe. A favor, from an older brother to another. The Gods knew if Sara was near war at all, Cregan would do everything in his power to send her somewhere safe. He would be forever indebted to the man who aided him to do so.

I get you but also like ???? What are you going on about you haven't met her. ASUMERA

A true alliance. A Pact of Ice and Fire, to bound their bloodlines and keep the beloved, but defenseless sister safe.

Ok cool. Nice. This was cool but I'm mildly annoyed by cregan

Jacaerys was a serious man, no matter his dubious parentage.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💀💀💀💀✋✋✋✋✋ MAN REALLY SAID 🫵BASTARD🫵 AND I RESPECT HIM FOR IT AHHSHAH

Cregan had offered to have his men meet you halfway, but his letter doing so had gone unanswered.

I'm pretty sure I felt bad for him but now I think deserve

The wheelhouse and the men carried so many packages that Cregan would have known you were a Princess even without expecting you. Anyone would have known.

🤨 you have a problem with her dresses country bumpkin. So what shes a city girl. Shut yo ugly trap

You were… Pitiful. Cregan understood now why Prince Jacaerys was so desperate to protect you.

I hate that for her. I hate that men around her are like sad woman come hither 👎👎👎death by being fried alive

“She brought less of a procession than you did. And less luggage.”

BROOOOOOOOOOO HES STILL GOING

“She was. By far a more practical woman.” He smiles at you, teasingly. “But if the fuss makes you happy…”

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ NO CUZ IM GLAD SHE FOUND THE HUMOR IN THA BECAUSE I WOULD HAE BODY SLAMMED HIM LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME

Your obsession with Valyrian history and traditions had been carefully nurtured by your stepfather, Daemon.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 MY MAN MY MY MAN MY MAN BEING A GOOD DAD????????? (BARE MINIMUM MOMENT)

When you had turned four and ten, Daemon had gifted you your very own book with Valyrian tales, a beautifully bound and illustrated edition that had followed you in your journey North.

“For you to read to your future children.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 DAEMON MAKING ME CRY AND BECOME SO SOFT AND NSNSSJMSSMMS

He had said, back then. You had barely flowered, so you had laughed. “I mean it, Princess. Out of my three girls, you are the only one I envision doing so.”

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Brb giving him 1000 daughters 🏃‍♀️💨💨💨

The man you had married didn’t love you. He had only done so to secure an alliance. And the man already had a child of his own, an heir.

Robbed twice is crazy. Sorrows sorrows prayers

They would have learned High Valyrian, and spoke it as beautifully as your mother and stepfather did.

🥺💔💔💔💔💔 MY LOVEEEEE

You had seen enough of your mother and Daemon to know bedding someone can be pleasing.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SEEN *ROLLS MAGAZINE* GET OFF THE FUCKING FURNITURE YOU FUCKING HORN DOGS

“It is not a sin. But why would you..?” You question, but your Lord Husband is getting up already, huffing. He seems angered that you are unable to understand his message, whatever it might be. He storms off, leaving you confused over his behaviour.

❓❓❓❓❓❓ WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM SANA NAGSALITA DIBA OA AMP

I fear I fear I fear I need to boil him in oil.this was nawwwwt where I thought this was going but I am EAGERRRRRR to know what it's headed UGHHHHHH loveeeeeeeee

Autumn (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Unreliable narrator!!!! Mature language. Descriptions of grief.

A/N: I was not expecting the response my silly little idea has gotten. I am very thankful for all of you who decide to read it, and would love to hear what you think of this chapter. Series masterlist here.

It doesn’t soothe you as you thought it would. The odious parchment offering you an honor guard from your future husband might be gone, but you still have to journey North before a moon since Luke’s funeral has passed.

At the thought of your brother, a sharp, stabbing pain, manifests in your chest. You choke down a sob. You had not realized you had started to measure time like this. Before and After Luke’s death, as people did with Before and After the Conquest.

Your grief only serves to fuel your rage, though. How could he? How could he demand you be wed when you were still in mourning? When you were still thinking of your sweet brother, not of keeps, and lords, and men?

“You dare!” You screech, barging inside Jacaerys’ rooms. Whatever he is doing, hunched over his desk, is interrupted. “You cannot do this to me! Mother will not allow it.”

Jace sets down his quill. He turns to look at you, his expression calm. You would think him indifferent, were it not for the fact that there is the slightest furrow of his brows.

“We need men.” He states, simply, and when you are about to interrupt him to say there are many more in the realm, he keeps speaking. “We need his men. The North is the largest kingdom, you know this as well as I. And when a Stark calls the banners, they are the only ones who respond in full.”

Your hands ball into fists. You hate that he is acting so composed, so rational. After Luke died, you felt like a chained dragon, roaring your grief and wishing to be freed to set ablaze those that had wronged you. Once, you had been as gracious as him and mother, composed even in the height of emotion. But grief has made you into live lighting, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

Your emotions are out of control. You know this. You get angered at the barest hint of an insult, you cry as easily as a newborn babe. Knowing it doesn’t stop you from lashing out, though. It only makes you regret it later.

“Our mother promised I was to have my pick of suitors, not that I would be sold like a cow!” You point an accusing finger to his chest. Jace sighs and gets up, surrounding the desk.

“I understand you are upset.” He tries offering you a hug, but you jerk away. His face hardens slightly. “But this is war.”

As if you do not know. As if you haven’t lost a sibling, too. Your face crumbles, and Jace calls your name, but hearing his voice, how similar Luke and him sound, only makes you cry harder.

“Hey, hey, it’s not so bad.” He hugs you, pressing your face against his doublet. The material is soft against your skin, and you feel tempted to let go of your rage against him and sink into his arms. Jace is barely a man, too, just as you are barely a woman. He is doing as best as he can, spread too thin by the weight of responsibility that comes with being heir. “Cregan is a good man. I got to know him during the time…”

Yes, he was doing as best as he could. But it hadn’t been his own hand that he had bartered away, had it? The insidious voice in your head asks. It isn’t him who is making a sacrifice. And such a hollow one. He claims to need men, but he won’t be getting even the full northern army.

“You sold me for a few Greybeards! Not even a proper army! Good Gods, you are a fool.” You cry out.

“Lord Stark assures me…” Jace starts, with the tone of someone who has already had this same argument. Were you thinking clearly, you would pause and realize why. Instead...

“He has put a wife in the grave already.” It is the only thing you know about him. Not much is whispered about Cregan Stark, at least, nothing concerning. You would remember it. The only thing that you know, though, is that he is a Stark and his wife is dead.

“You make it sound as if he killed her himself with his bare hands.” Jace scoffs. “I assure you, he dearly loved Arra Norrey and would have never harmed her. You know the dangers of childbirth. Perhaps even better than I.”

Perfect. He hadn’t killed the damn woman, he was just still in love with her. By the Seven, Jace was a fool. You hated being second in anything. Here, at home, you were already second to Jace, and you resented it. Being a twin meant having to share everything, including the love of those around you.

When you married, you had hoped to be the only woman in your husband’s life, not to be compared to a ghost. You had seen exactly how that went. King Viserys had never forgotten his first wife, calling for her years after her death, even as Alicent was the one to nurse him during his illness.

“He is still a widower.” You repeat, stubbornly.

Jace pinches the bride of his nose, before letting out a deep exhale. His next words are spoken extremely slowly, as if talking to a child. It makes you bristle.

“You said you were afraid of childbirth, and he already has an heir. There is no better solution.”

It would be thoughtful, were it not for the fact that:

“His first wife died in childbirth!”

As Jace prepares a scathing comeback, face scrunched up in mirrored displeasure to your own, the voice of your mother startles you both.

“What is going on here?” She asks, mouth pursed in an expression identical to Jace. The Queen looks as regal as ever, and it only serves to make you feel a tad embarrassed. With wild hair and eyes, face flushed from rage, you are sure that next to her, you must look like a wilding. “Why can the whole castle hear your quarrel?”

“It’s his fault.” You accuse, pointing at Jace.

“My fault?!” He says, placing his hands on his hips. “Apologies, I think they didn’t hear your screeching about Lord Stark in Driftmark!”

“So you informed her?” Your mother asks, calmly. Too calmly for someone who has just found out. Had it been her plan all along?

“Did you knew all along?” You whisper.

Rhaenyra turns to look at you. As always, your mother has a smile ready for you, but as of late, they are laced with sadness. This one is no exception.

“I did. I think it is for the best. You will be safer next to Cregan Stark, in Winterfell, than you could ever be here.”

You examine her expression. Her eyes are swollen and red rimmed, grief clouding her regal face. There is a certain determination in her features, a calm acceptance in her eyes, that tells you that her mind is already made.

Her face is not one of a distraught mother who will soon give her daughter away. You know her too well to mistake it for that.

“You hoped for this.” You keep your voice dangerously low, your anger threatening to bubble up in your throat. “You did because I have no dragon. I bet you are scheming to send Rhaena away too!”

Your mother doesn’t answer.

Her silence is damming. You turn to look at Jace, disbelieving. Of course the two of them had been scheming behind your back. Your brother had always been the closest one to your mother.

“And neither of you could tell me to my face?” You ask, letting out a hysterical laugh. “I had to find out from a letter from fucking Cregan Stark. I am not leaving. You cannot make me. ”

Suddenly, your mother grabs you by the shoulders. Her face is frightening, like an avenging goddess of Old Valyria. Her lips are curled back, teeth bared, and her eyes are as wild as yours.

She turns on her heel and leaves, leaving you standing on still shaking legs.

CREGAN HAD BEEN lingering near the entrance of Winterfell ever since his men had spotted the Queen’s banner on the horizon. Back then, they had expected the party to arrive in half a day. He didn’t care if he appeared too eager, his usual stoicism was failing him in the face of his nerves.

The first time Cregan had married, he had known the bride for a long time. Arra had been his childhood companion, and they had spent many moons together, playing Come-into-my-castle and Bears-and-maids. Cregan had unfortunately been the maid many more times than he preferred.

He had not feared marriage then. Spending forever chained to another person wouldn’t be so bad if that person was Arra.

Now, he did. Cregan had been content on his own, and had no desire to remarry. Even if he had, a southron princess wouldn’t have been his first choice. Though Prince Jacaerys had been honorable and dutiful, he was still naive. They were nearly of an age, but when Cregan had stood next to him, he had felt as old as his Greybeards.

A naive little princess would never survive in the North. His lords would eat her alive. The Lady of Winterfell couldn’t be some frail little thing, she had to be strong. Strong enough to hold Winterfell in his absence if needed, were the threat from beyond the Wall come to pass.

Arra had been the only woman he had thought of marrying because she had been the only woman he had thought fit to the task. She had been of the North, as he was, and it had helped him envision a future together where they ruled over the very same land that had birthed both of them.

It was only adequate that the Lady of Winterfell was a woman of the North. Southron Princesses, especially those who had been groomed to marry inside the family, could be of little help running a keep. If he had to remarry and choose a southron, Cregan would have preferred a stronger one.

Yet if wishes were dragons, beggars would soar through the skies. Prince Jacaerys had seemed a bit insulted at his offer of Greybeards, but with winter coming, it was all Cregan could spare. He was no stranger to political games, though, and knew he had to smooth down the feathers his offer had ruffled.

Hence, the offer. To receive the toothless dragon in his home and keep it safe. A favor, from an older brother to another. The Gods knew if Sara was near war at all, Cregan would do everything in his power to send her somewhere safe. He would be forever indebted to the man who aided him to do so.

And Prince Jacaerys, showing himself to be the dutiful prince and brother he was, had understood the offer for what it was. A true alliance. A Pact of Ice and Fire, to bound their bloodlines and keep the beloved, but defenseless sister safe.

It had impressed Cregan. Jacaerys was a serious man, no matter his dubious parentage. He could picture himself following him. After all, his Targaryen blood and character were the important part. That was what made him a worthy King.

Without a dragon of your own, your journey had been perilous. He knew you had ridden without banners until you had safely arrived into northern territory, a feat that had taken you a whole moon. Cregan had offered to have his men meet you halfway, but his letter doing so had gone unanswered. It had only prompted new anxieties for him.

What if he failed to fulfill his promise because you were abducted or harmed in the journey? What if the people riding with Black banners weren’t truly your honor guard, but an ambush prepared by the enemy?

Cregan doubted he would be at ease until he saw you emerge out of your wheelhouse, whole and unscathed. Hence, his waiting by the door. He would not be nervous a moment longer than he needed to.

The first thing Cregan saw was that your honor guard was smaller than he expected. He had known you would travel with a sparse escort, as to not attract undue attention. It was a miracle you had made it here with only ten guards, though. The wheelhouse and the men carried so many packages that Cregan would have known you were a Princess even without expecting you. Anyone would have known.

In contrast, the woman who stepped out of the wheelhouse wasn’t miraculous nor was she what Cregan envisioned when thinking of a Princess.

You were… Pitiful. Cregan understood now why Prince Jacaerys was so desperate to protect you. You wouldn’t survive a winter in the North, hells, it looked like a strong breeze would blow you away.

Your hair and eyes were as dark as the ones of your brother. You wore a pretty wool dress, in mourning black. The lacings on the back were done too tightly, a lot of the ribbon hanging limply, and the dress was loose around your chest and hips. It was clear you had recently lost weight, probably during the journey because the gown hadn’t been altered to fit you.

There were dark circles under your eyes, which were also red rimmed. Your skin was pale, your dark hair braided back in a severe style. Grief didn’t suit you. You looked small and sad, despite having a pleasing figure.

It didn’t help that the dress you had chosen was one far too thin for a sensible northern woman to wear. The day wasn’t even that cold, but you were already shivering. It was barely snowing, for the Gods’s sake!

Cregan approached you and gave you a bow.

“Princess.” He extended his arm to you. You took it, shivering. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“Pleasant enough.” At least your voice isn’t frail. The last thing Cregan needed was a soft-spoken southron lady. You even manage to smile at him, which makes you look considerably more attractive.

Cregan would admit one thing, and one thing only: Queen Rhaenyra made pretty children. Both you and Jacaerys had sinful mouths and bewitching dark eyes, though he found yours far more pleasing.

“I am sorry for your loss.” He says, as he escorts you inside Winterfell. Your trembling intensifies, instead of subsiding in the warmth of his hall. You say nothing.

When he risks a glance at your face, your eyes are suspiciously wet. You avoid meeting his eyes, even as he offers you the customary salt and bread.

“I remember when Arra got here.” Cregan offers, awkwardly. He isn’t quite sure of what to say to a grieving Princess, so he decides to share something about himself in hopes that you will open up too. He desperately needs to change the subject. Or to start a subject. He is not picky, anything that keeps you from crying will do. “She brought less of a procession than you did. And less luggage.”

“She was quite closer to home than I.” You reply, and your tone has regained strength. You no longer shake, body stiffer. Cregan decides to take it as a good sign. You are clearly struggling to get a hold of yourself, which is why you turn so tense, so he decides to keep speaking to give you some more time.

“She was. By far a more practical woman.” He smiles at you, teasingly. “But if the fuss makes you happy…”

You laugh. When he gets to know you better, Cregan will realize that your laughter wasn’t genuine.

He will also realize this had been the moment your heart iced over.

YOU PAGE THROUGH your book, in silence. Winterfell doesn’t have court musicians, and for that, you are thankful. Silence has always been your preferred companion right before bed. That, and a good book.

Your obsession with Valyrian history and traditions had been carefully nurtured by your stepfather, Daemon. Neither your mother nor siblings had much interest in your shared heritage, beyond the ability it gave them to ride dragons.

While Baela and Rhaena spoke fluid High Valyrian, the same could not be said for your brothers. As the only girl in the household, your lessons had been spent with the former and not the latter, forcing you to improve. Once you did, you had found reading the tales of old was a pleasant pastime.

You enjoyed laying in bed and imagining all the stories about magic, dragons, and empresses. When you had turned four and ten, Daemon had gifted you your very own book with Valyrian tales, a beautifully bound and illustrated edition that had followed you in your journey North.

“For you to read to your future children.” He had said, back then. You had barely flowered, so you had laughed. “I mean it, Princess. Out of my three girls, you are the only one I envision doing so.”

The day he had acknowledged you as one of his daughters, even if you didn’t share blood, was the happiest nameday you had had. He was right, too. As much as you loved the twins, you couldn’t picture them being motherly. Baela would have to have a son, to inherit after Jace, but you believed that it would be him who took charge of the more fatherly duties while she dedicated herself to statecraft. Rhaena, instead, had a thirst for adventure, to travel and know the world. Her ambition wasn’t conducive to motherhood either.

You, instead, had always dreamed of marrying a man who loved you and starting a family of your own. You envisioned yourself as the lady of a great keep, where you would rule fairly, and raise your children without wet nurses.

Those dreams had already been shattered. The man you had married didn’t love you. He had only done so to secure an alliance. And the man already had a child of his own, an heir. There was no need for you to be a mother anymore.

You turned another page of your book, watching the beautiful illustrations. You had dreamed of reading this to a little girl who looked like you, or perhaps a boy that would have looked like the man of your dreams. They would have learned High Valyrian, and spoke it as beautifully as your mother and stepfather did.

It would not come to pass. Not any longer.

A soft knock on your door makes you set down your book, closing it with great care. Then, you get up and put on your robe over your sleeping shift.

“You may enter.”

Your husband steps in, dressed for bed already. He is a handsome man, you think, biting your lower lip. Tall, dark and handsome, Cregan is the sort of man your childhood self would have pictured marrying.

He could have been the perfect man to fall in love with, were it not for the fact that he would never love you back. He already loved someone else, someone who you could never aspire to match. His first wife, Lady Arra.

As Alicent had learned, it was impossible to overshadow a ghost. Dead as she was, she could never make mistakes. He would forget all her imperfections.

She gave him a child, she was the wife he chose. The one he married for love, not duty. A practical, northern woman his bannermen had surely liked far more as a match to him than a soft southron princess who didn’t even have a dragon.

“I was wondering if you would welcome my company tonight, Princess.” Your husband says, voice emotionless. He is only here because of duty, it seems. “We could share the bed.”

“You said we could wait to consummate our union.” You keep your voice firm. It is not a task you anticipate eagerly, but you are not afraid of it either. You had seen enough of your mother and Daemon to know bedding someone can be pleasing. It is only the awkwardness of doing so with a stranger that puts you off.

“I was not referring to that.” Your husband says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “The nights are cold in Winterfell. Is it wrong for a man to seek closeness to his wife?”

You frown. His behavior is most puzzling. He intends to share your bed… To sleep? Your mother shared her bed with Daemon, but she also bedded him. It makes no sense to you that he wants to sleep next to you without touching you. Most marriages don’t do that. Much less if they are political matches.

That night, Cregan dreams of running. Of having a snout covered in blood, of jumping into the river, trying to trap a seahorse.

He never manages to. Wolves aren’t meant to hunt seahorses.

#cregan stark x reader #cristi with the cute ass and the great fics

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 days ago

Text

Chapter 5: In the Spotlight

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: being the "babysitter"= fun...right?

Welcome to the chapter 5 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

The whispers started as soon as I entered the gym for practice the day after the Villanova game. People were staring, their eyes darting between their phones and me. A couple of players from the men’s team even snickered when I walked past.

I didn’t understand what was going on until KK intercepted me by the bleachers, her expression somewhere between amused and concerned.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

She sighed and held up her phone. On the screen was a blurry video of me walking into the locker room at Villanova. The caption read: “Paige Bueckers’ mystery girl? 👀”

I groaned, my face heating up. “Are you kidding me? This is so out of context!”

“Yeah, but people love a good rumor,” KK said, scrolling through the comments. “Most of them are just shipping you and Paige.”

“Shipping us?” I echoed, incredulous. “We’re not even—”

“Relax,” she cut in, her tone gentle. “It’s just noise. Don’t let it get to you.”

But it did get to me. All day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was watching me, judging me. By the time practice ended, I was ready to throw in the towel on my entire final project.

I went straight to Coach Geno’s office, my camera bag slung over my shoulder. He looked up from his desk, his brow furrowing when he saw me.

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” I said, placing my project proposal on his desk. “The rumors, the stares—it’s too much. I didn’t sign up for this.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Let me ask you something. Why did you choose this project?”

I hesitated. “Because I wanted to challenge myself. To tell a story that mattered.”

“And do you think you’ve done that so far?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stood, walking around his desk to stand in front of me. “I see potential in you, Y/N. You have an eye for this—an instinct. Don’t let a bunch of gossip derail what could be an incredible project. Push through. Finish what you started.”

I nodded, his words sinking in. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Later that evening, I found myself in the gym. The empty court was a welcome reprieve from the noise of the day. I was adjusting my camera settings when the sound of sneakers on hardwood made me look up.

Paige.

“Hey,” she said, her smile soft. “Mind if I join you?”

I shook my head, and she dropped her bag on the sidelines before walking over. “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” I replied, letting out a bitter laugh.

“Let me guess,” she said, crossing her arms. “The video?”

I nodded, surprised she even knew about it.

“People are ridiculous,” she said. “But you can’t let them win. Come on.”

She grabbed a ball and motioned for me to follow her to the three-point line. “Let’s work off some of that pressure. I mean granted im kinda banned drom practice though.”

“I’m terrible at basketball, and yeah you are banned.” I warned.

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me as your coach, speaking of coah i asked fo sit with you..so like you're my babysitter” she said with a evil grin.

The first few shots were laughably bad, but Paige was patient, adjusting my form and giving me tips. By the time I finally sank a three, I was laughing so hard I almost dropped the ball.

“There you go!” she cheered, throwing her arms in the air.

“Beginner’s luck,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

She pulled out her phone, recording me as I took another shot. “For posterity,” she said when I gave her a questioning look.

“Hang on,” I said, running out to my car to grab my personal camera. When I came back, she was dribbling the ball lazily at half-court.

“Let’s use this instead,” I said, setting up the tripod.

We spent the next hour goofing off, filming everything from trick shots to ridiculous commentary. Paige even tried to reenact her infamous Villanova assist, but it ended with her tripping over her own feet.

As it was getting late we headed back at my dorm, we poured Shirley Temples into a giant pitcher, the fizz of the soda filling the room.

“To surviving rumors and bad basketball shots,” Paige said, holding up her glass.

I clinked mine against hers. “And to you, for teaching me how to shoot a three.”

She laughed, leaning back against the couch. “You’re a natural.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.

As the night wore on, we sat there talking, the camera still sitting on the coffee table. Part of me wanted to grab it, to capture this moment. But another part of me knew that some things were better left undocumented, kept just between us.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 .... (more to be added)

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leilaniluvss · 3 days ago

Text

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤! 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐖: 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓, 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄, 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐗, 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘, 𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

Btw this is my first time writing and everything so sorry of this sucks btw

𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿, you always been treated wrong by sasuke ever since pre-school it all started over a stupid joke. “Forehead girl, Forehead girl!” The class then starts to laugh at sasuke towards you causing you to run out the class. You even heard the teacher snicker. But you never thought it could get worse from there. Your books would start missing, Notes would be ripped, Certain school supplies would be gone. Small things started to turn into big things. You’ll never forget how 3rd grade you had your first friend but he was a male.

The little boy name was Micheal. “Why are you sitting by yourself?” You turn to him and simply respond shrugging your shoulders “Don’t nobody wanna be friend cause they make fun of my forehead and laugh at me.” Micheal then lift up his hand putting it on your forehead. “I think it’s pretty” He said looking up smiling at me. I then just sit there looking at him. “Wanna be best friends?” I then just nod my head deciding to trust him. From that day on bonds were made. He was always there for you, He stood up to Sasuke when no once couldn’t, He helped you throughout times your struggle. Until one faithful day a person caused your bonds to break. Running into the lunchroom you hear people enchanting the word “FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!” Ruining into the crowd your jaw drops seeing Micheal snd Sasuke fighting. And oh boy did Micheal got the shit beaten out of him. Sasuke then gets up his punches still connecting to Micheal face his nose was bloody, mouth bleeding, he then proceeds to start kicking him in the gut. I then stand there horrified at the scene until security guards break up the fight. You go immediately visit Micheal at the hospital but wasn’t welcomed. “Im sorry Y/n but I-i can’t be befriends with you anymore not after what happened.” Meanwhile hearing the argument between you and Micheal Sasuke stands next to the door smirking to yourself. Without your Best friend by your side you were left alone AGAIN. When you took it up with the principal at the parents teacher conference nothing really got resolved his family seemed to have their ways causing the bullying to continue on.

But the last final straw was when your mom had passed away after that Y/n was never seen from again. Until she goes to a new high school called Konoha high school, but this school is expensive to be in so the only way Y/n had get in was because the principal felt guilty and was able to convince the rich school as to why you could go. And without having to pay for anything you was able to get in. When you took a tour around the school you could see why it was popular and expensive it had dorms, sports, trips and many more.

This could be a new start you thought yourself. "I've already made a new friends started classes yet!" Sakura laughed.

"Really??" You asked. If Sakura was making friends this quickly, maybe it would be okay for you. “Yeah you’ll eventually meet them to like Ino, tenten, Hinata,Temari, They’re really helpful and on the cheer team!”

“Cheer team?” I asked curiously. “Could I try out?” Sakura nods her head. “It’s a long list and hard try outs but I’ll add you, you could probably be co captain if you do well, so just meet me after school for the tryouts.” She then goes on snd starts talking about other boys

"Yeah! And there's sooo many cute guys here! Like Sasuke, Naruto,Shikamaru, Choji, although Sai is straight up fugly."

"Wait wait wait- did you just say sasuke?” Your thoughts ran in circle thinking about him of seeing him after all these years. “He’s so handsome but IVE never date him tho HES just a red flag.” Sakura said getting back to the point. “Anyway do you know him or something?” She asked curiously. I then take a deep breathe explaining what happend between me and him when we was little. “Oh Im sorry that happend to you he could really be a big ass jerk sometimes.” She said comforting me.

“I did what?” A deep slant voice said. Your stomach dropped hearing the voice after many years. As you turned around to look at him he grown more better. His hair strands was more black and longer, He had muscles and broad shoulders, and he was much more taller than you. He looked at you in a moment before scanning and after his eyes widen seeing me. He then smirks, “Yo long time no see Y/n.” You chuckled nervously looking at him. “Yeah long time no see to you to sasuke.” With the tension in the between YALL 3 he apologizes for what happened and offer for me to hang with him at lunch and sakura I was hesitant at first but then agreed.

At lunch Sakura leaded you to there table as you sat down with your tray of food. You at there nervously until Sakura came with you just by looking at you she could tell your nervousness and was there to comfort you. As you sat down People at the table started laughing at you. Sakura whipped her head at them snapping at them. “What’s so funny?” They then pointed to your seat and when you got up it was a big red spot on your skirt. You gasp horribly getting up out of your seat running off. Sasuke snickered. “Always running off like a pussycat.” Sakura then runs after me. “Hey hey it’s ok calm down” other girls then came in running after me. “Oh and by the way Thats tenten with the two buns, Temari is with the blonde pigtails and ini is with the blonde ponytail and and Hinata is with the purple hair.

“By the way did you sign up to have dorms cause if you did they said for the schedule you have it with us” Temari speaks. “Yeah I signed up but I don’t know where the dorms are actually.” They then grab me showing me to dorms basically welcoming me into their friend group. Now to explain the side of these dorms we have boys and girls. We then walk into the big dorms while we look on the other side we see that the boy sides is well very dirty. Ten ten chuckles nervously. “DONT mind that side Thats where sasuke, Naruto, shikamaru, and chino stay at.” They then grab me introducing me to my dorm room. “So who will be my dorm mate?” Sakura then squeals “I’ll be your roommate!” She then shows me our dorms. “Sorry if you don’t like it I think I kinda over decorated it.”

“No no it’s fine.” I said looking at the room. But because it’s after school Sakura decided to take me out to cheer tryouts. Of course Hinata and the rest of them are on the cheer team.

Sasuke Uchiha.

Even from across the gym, you could feel his piercing onyx eyes on you, as if he’d already recognized you despite the years that had passed. His expression was unreadable, but you could practically sense the simmering arrogance radiating from him.

The memories hit you like a wave. Sasuke had made your life hell when you were kids, teasing you relentlessly. He’d mocked everything about you—your clothes, your voice, even your dreams. It wasn’t just childish teasing; his words had cut deep. You thought you’d left all of that behind when you moved, but here he was, as smug and intimidating as ever.

“Earth to Y/n,” Sakura’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She followed your gaze to the basketball team, where Sasuke was now laughing with Naruto, Shikamaru, and Choji. “Oh. Yeah, he’s still as much of a jerk as ever. Don’t let him get to you.”

You nodded, shaking off the uneasy feeling and focusing on the tryouts. You were determined to nail this.

The basketball team was mid-practice when Sasuke finally looked over at the cheer tryouts. He recognized you immediately, even though it had been years. You looked… different now. More confident. Stronger. He couldn’t explain why seeing you here irked him so much.

“Yo, Sasuke,” Naruto called, tossing him the ball. “You good?”

“Hn,” Sasuke grunted, brushing it off. But his eyes flicked back to you, watching as you executed a perfect tumbling pass, your hair catching the light.

Naruto followed his gaze and grinned. “Oh, is that [Name]? Sakura’s friend? She just transferred here, right? She’s cute.”

Sasuke scowled, gripping the ball tighter. “Tch. She’s nothing special.”

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“Drop it,” Sasuke snapped, shoving past them to make a layup. But even as he practiced, his mind kept drifting back to you.

By the time tryouts were over, you were exhausted but exhilarated. You’d made it onto the squad, and your friends were cheering you on.

“Congrats!” Temari said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re gonna dominate this season.”

As you all walked out of the gym, you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you found Sasuke leaning casually against the wall, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here pussycat,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

Your heart sank. “Sasuke.”

He smirked, that same infuriating smirk you remembered from years ago. “Still as annoying as ever, huh? Thought you’d finally crawl back to whatever hole you came from.”

Your hands clenched into fists, but Sakura stepped in before you could say anything. “Back off, Sasuke,” she said sharply. “She doesn’t have time for your crap.”

“Relax, I was just saying hi,” Sasuke said, his smirk widening as he pushed off the wall and walked away.

You watched him go, your chest tightening with frustration. It was clear that Sasuke hadn’t changed one bit.

But this time, you weren’t a scared kid anymore. If he thought he could walk all over you like before, he was in for a rude awakening.

As Sasuke walked away, he felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a smirk, though his mind was anything but calm. You. Of all people, you were back in his life. And, worse, you weren’t the meek, easily-flustered little girl he used to toy with for fun. No, this new version of you—confident, beautiful, and unapologetically fiery—was different.

It pissed him off.

What makes her think she can waltz in here like she owns the place? he thought, his fists tightening in his pockets. He could still hear Sakura’s sharp tone defending you, and it made his blood boil. You didn’t need her protection. If anything, you needed to be reminded of your place.

When Sasuke reached the locker room, his teammates were already there, laughing and joking, but their chatter blurred into white noise. He leaned against the cool metal of the lockers, his head tipped back, eyes closing as frustration gnawed at him. But beneath the irritation, there was something darker—a sense of possession he couldn’t shake.

She thinks she’s untouchable now, doesn’t she? The thought made his lips curl into a sneer.

Images of you flashed in his mind, unbidden and vivid. That cheer uniform hugging your curves, the determined glint in your eyes as you performed—too confident for your own good. You weren’t the girl he used to knock down with a few harsh words. No, you’d grown up into someone more… challenging.

And he hated how much he wanted to break that confidence.

What would it take to see her crack? The idea gripped him, spiraling into something darker. Maybe he’d pull you aside after practice, just the two of you, his words sharp and biting until you finally dropped that fiery attitude. He’d corner you in the empty halls, his presence looming until you couldn’t look him in the eye, and then—then you’d realize you hadn’t outgrown him, not really.

He imagined the way your breath would hitch if he leaned too close, his voice low and taunting as he whispered things only he could say to you. The way you’d look at him, defiant at first, but eventually… You’d understand you were his to torment. His to claim.

His jaw clenched, and he slammed a fist into the locker, the metallic clang silencing the room.

“Damn, Sasuke, what’s your problem?” Naruto asked, eyeing him warily from across the room.

“Nothing,” Sasuke snapped, his voice cold.

“Yeah, right. You’ve been acting weird since [Name] showed up,” Naruto continued, undeterred. “What, still holding a grudge? Or…” His grin widened. “You’re into her, aren’t you?”

Sasuke’s glare could’ve frozen fire. “Shut up, idiot.”

Naruto laughed, but Shikamaru raised an eyebrow from his spot on the bench. “You know, if you’re this worked up, maybe she’s the one getting under your skin this time.”

That comment earned a snarl. Sasuke shoved past them, heading straight for the showers, the cold spray doing little to cool the heat coursing through him.

I’ll remind her who I am, he thought darkly, his lips curving into a cruel smirk as water dripped down his face. She might think she’s untouchable now, but I’ll fix that.

The game was far from over. And Sasuke always won.

The weekend rolled in with bright skies and an air of excitement. You were out on the campus lawn with your friend group, laughing and chatting as you enjoyed the rare break from classes and cheer practice. Sakura, Temari, TenTen, and Hinata surrounded you, their energy infectious as they talked about their upcoming plans.

But what made the day even better was your boyfriend, Kaito. He was sweet, charming, and attentive in a way that made you feel cherished—a stark contrast to certain people you’d rather not think about. Kaito had been quick to approach you when you transferred, drawn to your wit and personality. It didn’t take long for the two of you to hit it off. Now, here you were, sitting next to him with his arm draped casually over your shoulder, his easy smile making your cheeks warm.

“You’re lucky,” Temari teased with a smirk, nudging your side. “Kaito’s got half the school crushing on him, and he’s here doting on you.”

You laughed, leaning into his warmth. “Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just lucky.”

Across the campus, Sasuke stood with his own group, his sharp eyes locked on you. Naruto was busy teasing Hinata, who had wandered over to join him, while Shikamaru had his arm slung lazily around Temari. Choji was munching on chips as usual, and TenTen was laughing about something with Neji.

But Sasuke? His mood was dark.

“Damn,” Naruto said, elbowing Sasuke. “You’ve been staring at her all afternoon. You’re gonna burn a hole through her or something.”

“Shut up, Naruto,” Sasuke growled, but his glare didn’t waver. The sight of Kaito sitting so close to you, his hand on your shoulder like he had any right to touch you—it made his blood boil.

Shikamaru, leaning against a tree, raised an eyebrow. “You’re sulking because she’s got a boyfriend, huh? Thought you didn’t care about her.”

“I don’t,” Sasuke snapped. His fist clenched, though, betraying his calm tone. “But she’s making a fool of herself with that guy. He’s not good enough for her.”

Shikamaru smirked, clearly amused. “And who is? You?”

“Tch.” Sasuke turned away, his jaw tightening. “Forget it.”

Later that afternoon, you excused yourself from the group to grab a water bottle from the vending machines near the gym. The hallways were quiet, the distant echoes of basketball practice barely audible. You were about to turn the corner when a hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you into an empty hallway.

“Hey—what the hell?” you yelped, your heart racing until you saw who it was.

Sasuke.

His dark eyes bore into yours, his grip firm but not painful. The air between you felt heavy, his towering presence pinning you in place.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

You yanked your arm free, glaring up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“That guy.” His words were practically spat out. “Kaito. You think he actually cares about you?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “And what would you know about it, Sasuke? You don’t know him, and you sure as hell don’t know me anymore.”

His smirk was anything but friendly. “Oh, I know you, [Name]. Better than he does. Better than he ever will.”

“Get over yourself,” you snapped, stepping back. But he followed, his presence overwhelming.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his tone dark and possessive. “You think Kaito’s gonna protect you? Keep you safe?”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me,” you shot back. “Least of all you.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by something colder. “Just remember this, [Name]. If he screws up, I’ll be there. And don’t think for a second I’ll let you forget who you belong to.”

You felt your blood boil. “I don’t belong to anyone, least of all you, Sasuke. So stay out of my life.”

You shoved past him, your heart pounding as you hurried down the hall. Sasuke returned to the court, his mood even darker than before. Naruto was the first to notice.

“What’s with you now?” he asked, dribbling the ball lazily.

Sasuke leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowing. “She’s wasting her time with that idiot. I don’t get what she sees in him.”

“You’re jealous,” Shikamaru said simply, his tone bored but amused.

“I’m not jealous,” Sasuke bit out.

“Yeah, sure,” Naruto said with a grin. “That’s why you’re acting like someone stole your favorite toy.”

Sasuke glared at him, but Shikamaru only smirked. “If you’re so bothered by it, why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Sasuke scoffed, running a hand through his hair.

“None of your business,” Sasuke muttered.

“You’re acting like a psycho,” Shikamaru said, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “You want her? Fine. But this whole ‘bully her until she comes running’ thing isn’t gonna work.”

Sasuke’s smirk was sharp, dangerous. “She’ll come around.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Naruto pressed, genuinely curious.

Sasuke’s eyes darkened, his voice low and venomous. “Then I’ll make her.”

The room fell silent, his words lingering like a threat. Sasuke leaned back, arms crossed as his teammates exchanged wary glances. No one dared to challenge him, not when his mind was set.

Because when Sasuke Uchiha wanted something, he always got it.

The energy in the gymnasium reached a fever pitch as students from both schools filled the bleachers for homecoming. The court gleamed under the bright lights, the cheers of the crowd blending into an electrifying roar. It was basketball players against basketball players, cheerleaders against cheerleaders, and everyone was here to win.

The home team’s basketball lineup was stacked: Sasuke, Naruto, Shikamaru, Choji, Neji, and Kiba. Each of them wore determined expressions as they warmed up on the court, the pride of their school riding on their shoulders.

The cheer squad, led by you, was just as ready. Alongside you were Sakura, Temari, Hinata, TenTen, Ino, and Karin, all dressed in matching uniforms that sparkled in the gym lights. The six of you had been practicing nonstop for weeks, and now it was time to show off your hard work. The first half of the basketball game was intense. Sasuke led the charge with sharp precision, his movements fluid and calculated as he dominated the court. Naruto’s energy was infectious, his quick passes and layups keeping the crowd on their feet. Shikamaru’s strategic plays, Kiba’s aggressive defense, Neji’s perfect aim, and Choji’s sheer power kept the opposing team on their toes.

Every time one of them scored, you and the cheer squad erupted into choreographed chants and routines, pumping up the crowd with your high-flying stunts and sharp moves.

The rival cheer squad was just as fierce, matching your energy with routines of their own. But the moment came for the halftime cheer battle, and the gym fell silent with anticipation.

The rival squad went first, nailing a routine filled with flips, basket tosses, and tight formations that left the crowd roaring.

But when it was your turn, you and your squad brought the fire. From the moment the music started, you hit every move with precision. Temari and Sakura nailed their tumbling passes, Hinata’s flyer stunts were flawless, and TenTen’s powerful jumps drew cheers from the crowd. You and Ino closed the routine with a jaw-dropping stunt, hitting the perfect scorpion pose at the peak of a basket toss.

When your routine ended, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and it was clear your squad had stolen the show.

“Hell yeah!” Naruto yelled from the bench, pumping his fist in the air.

“Of course, we crushed them,” Temari said confidently, high-fiving you as you returned to the sidelines.

Everything was perfect. Or so you thought. As you grabbed a water bottle, laughing with your friends about your routine, your eyes scanned the gym for your boyfriend, Kaito. But what you saw made your stomach drop.

Kaito was standing near the bleachers with one of the rival team’s cheerleaders, a girl in a red and black uniform. They were laughing together, her hand resting on his chest in a way that made your skin crawl.

And then he kissed her.

Your bottle slipped from your hand, clattering to the floor. The noise drew the attention of your friends, who followed your gaze.

“No way,” Ino whispered, her jaw dropping.

“That bastard,” Temari hissed, her eyes narrowing.

Sakura’s hand flew to her mouth. “I can’t believe him.”

Even Hinata, usually so kind and quiet, frowned deeply. “How could he do that to you?”

On the court, Sasuke had seen the whole thing. His dark eyes narrowed as he tracked the scene, his grip on the basketball tightening.

“Looks like Kaito’s showing his true colors,” Shikamaru said lazily, though his sharp gaze lingered on you.

Naruto’s brows furrowed. “What the hell? That’s messed up. Poor [Name].”

Kiba growled under his breath. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

Sasuke said nothing, but the dark look in his eyes spoke volumes. He wasn’t angry for you—no, it was more selfish than that. He was furious that Kaito had dared to think he could have you in the first place. Despite the betrayal, the halftime performance couldn’t wait. You wiped your eyes quickly, forcing yourself to focus as the music started. Your movements were sharp, your smile forced but unshaken as you executed the routine perfectly.

Sakura placed a hand on your shoulder as you transitioned to the next formation, her eyes full of silent support. Temari took the lead on a tumbling pass, her fierce energy spurring the crowd into cheers. Ino and Hinata executed their stunts flawlessly, while TenTen added a powerful jump combination that brought the house down.

You finished the routine with a show-stopping pyramid, standing tall at the top despite the ache in your chest.

The crowd erupted into applause, and as you climbed down, Temari whispered, “You’re stronger than this, [Name]. Don’t let him see you break.”

You nodded, your resolve hardening. The boys returned to the court, their energy even fiercer than before. Sasuke played like a man possessed, his movements sharp and unforgiving as he dominated the court. Every time he scored, his dark eyes flicked to you, as if silently daring you to look away.

Naruto matched his energy, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a fiery determination. Kiba and Neji locked down the rival team’s offense, while Choji and Shikamaru coordinated flawless plays.

The game ended with an overwhelming victory for your team, and the gym erupted into cheers.

As you packed up with your friends, you felt a dark presence behind you. Turning, you saw Sasuke, his smirk sharp and his gaze heavy.

“Kaito’s a waste of time,” he said, his voice low so only you could hear. “You know that now, don’t you?”

You glared at him, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “It’s none of your business, Sasuke.”

He stepped closer, his smirk deepening. “You’ll see, princess. You’ll forget about him soon enough.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you with more questions than answers.

The weekend had finally arrived, and for once, the group chat was blowing up with excitement. After the chaos of homecoming—the cheer battle, the drama with Kaito, and the aftermath of the game—you and your friends decided it was time for a girls’ day. No boys, no distractions, just you, Sakura, Temari, Ino, Hinata, Karin, and TenTen enjoying each other’s company.

The plan was simple: brunch, shopping, and an all-night movie marathon back at the dorms. The café was warm and cozy, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filling the air as you all gathered around a large corner table.

“I’m still pissed about Kaito,” Temari said bluntly, stabbing her fork into a stack of pancakes. “Seriously, what kind of idiot cheats during homecoming? In front of half the school, no less.”

You sighed, swirling your straw in your iced coffee. “I’d rather not talk about him, honestly. I’m over it.”

“Good,” Ino said with a flip of her hair. “Because he’s not worth your time. If you ask me, he was holding you back anyway.”

“I agree,” Hinata said softly, offering you a kind smile. “You deserve someone who respects you.”

“Or no one at all!” Karin added with a smirk. “Who needs guys, anyway? They’re all trouble.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sakura teased, leaning back in her chair. “Some of us have boyfriends who aren’t jerks.”

“Yeah, how’s Mr. Random these days?” Temari asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sakura laughed. “He’s fine, thanks for asking. But let’s not make this about me. What’s our shopping plan?” The mall was buzzing with life, and the seven of you wasted no time diving into your favorite stores.

“Try this on!” Ino exclaimed, holding up a sparkly dress in your direction.

“Absolutely not,” you said, laughing as she shoved it into your arms anyway.

Temari and TenTen were busy sorting through racks of jackets, debating the merits of leather versus denim, while Karin inspected a display of sunglasses.

Hinata, ever the quiet one, was browsing through a rack of cozy sweaters, her cheeks pink from all the attention she kept drawing.

“Sasuke’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this,” Sakura whispered to you with a sly grin as you held up a fitted outfit in the mirror.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dressing for him.”

“Uh-huh, sure you’re not,” Ino teased, nudging you.

“Leave her alone,” Hinata said gently, though her smile was teasing. “Let her have fun without thinking about him for once.”

You appreciated the support, even if the thought of Sasuke had been lingering in the back of your mind. He’d been acting stranger than usual lately, and the tension between you two was undeniable. By the time you returned to the dorms, your arms were full of shopping bags, and everyone was buzzing with excitement for the movie marathon.

Temari and TenTen set up snacks, a mix of popcorn, chips, and candy spread across the coffee table. Karin queued up the movies, while Hinata and Ino fussed over blankets and pillows, making the space as comfortable as possible.

“Alright,” Sakura said, plopping onto the couch with a tub of ice cream. “What are we watching first?”

“Something scary,” Temari suggested, her grin mischievous.

“No way!” Hinata protested, clutching a pillow to her chest.

“How about a rom-com?” Ino suggested, earning groans from half the group.

In the end, you settled on an action-packed blockbuster, complete with explosions and dramatic one-liners. The room was filled with laughter and playful banter as you all got comfortable, the stress of the past week melting away. Somewhere between the second and third movie, the conversation shifted.

“Do you ever think about what life would’ve been like if we weren’t all so… competitive?” Sakura asked, her voice soft.

Temari snorted. “Boring, that’s for sure.”

“I like the way things are now,” TenTen said, stretching. “We might argue sometimes, but we’ve got each other’s backs.”

Karin nodded. “Yeah. Even when things suck—like [Name] dealing with Kaito—we stick together.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “I couldn’t ask for better friends.”

Hinata reached over to squeeze your hand. “And we’ll always be here for you.”

As the night wore on, you felt lighter than you had in weeks. The drama with Kaito, the tension with Sasuke—it all seemed so far away when you were surrounded by your friends.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you wouldn’t face them alone. The next day you actually decide to go with Sakura idea with changing yourself

Sakura, Ino, and Temari had practically dragged you into their rooms earlier, determined to give you a “makeover.”

“Okay, this is perfect,” Temari said, holding up a black halter crop top and a pair of low-rise jeans with a statement belt.

“Add these,” Ino said, handing over a pair of silver hoop earrings, a Dior necklace, and sleek sunglasses.

“And don’t forget the Prada bag!” Sakura chimed in, holding up a chic black purse.

“You have to wear these heels too,” Hinata said shyly, placing strappy black stilettos at your feet.

You stared at the collection of clothes and accessories, feeling both nervous and excited. “Are you sure about this?”

“Stop doubting yourself!” Ino said, practically shoving you toward the bathroom. “Trust us—you’ll look incredible.”

When you finally stepped out of the bathroom, the girls’ reactions were instantaneous.

“Holy crap,” Temari said, giving an impressed whistle.

“Shut up, you look like a celebrity,” Sakura said, her eyes wide with approval.

“Seriously, [Name],” Ino added, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re going to make jaws drop.”

You turned to the mirror, and your breath hitched. The sleek black halter top paired perfectly with the low-rise jeans, accentuating your curves without overdoing it. The accessories tied everything together, giving the outfit a polished, glamorous look, and the strappy heels added just the right amount of height.

For the first time in a while, you felt bold, confident—unstoppable.

“Okay,” you said with a shy smile, “you win. I love it.” Walking into school that day felt like something out of a dream. The moment you stepped into the main building, the atmosphere shifted. Heads turned, conversations paused, and a ripple of whispers followed your every step.

“Is that [Name]?” someone murmured.

“Damn, she looks so good,” another voice said.

You kept your head high, the confidence from your new look radiating with every step. It wasn’t about the attention—it was about how you felt. And for the first time in a long while, you felt completely in control.

When you met up with your cheer squad in the courtyard, their reactions were just as enthusiastic.

“You actually did it!” Sakura exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “I told you you’d look amazing.”

“You’re killing it,” Karin said, adjusting her own sunglasses.

“Everyone’s talking about you,” Temari said with a smirk.

Hinata blushed, offering you a soft smile. “You look… stunning.”

TenTen nodded in agreement. “This is a total power move. I’m here for it.”

As the girls hyped you up, you couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you belonged—confident, carefree, and surrounded by the best friends you could ever ask for. new outfit, it was like the air shifted. Every hallway you entered became unnervingly quiet as heads turned and eyes followed your every step. You were oblivious to it all, smiling and waving at familiar faces as you made your way to class, but the boys? They weren’t subtle.

“Yo, [Name]!” Kiba’s voice rang out behind you as you reached for your locker. You turned, surprised to see him practically jogging toward you with a cocky grin on his face.

“You look… different today,” he said, his eyes roaming your outfit unapologetically. “I like it. Maybe you’d let me take you out sometime?” The day had started like any other: tense, unpredictable, and exhausting. Ever since you had transferred to Konoha High, it had been like living in a nightmare, and the devil running it all was Sasuke Uchiha. He wasn’t just the school’s star athlete or the handsome boy every girl fawned over—he was untouchable. The heir to the Uchiha family, the wealthiest and most dangerous mafia in the region, Sasuke owned the school. Literally.

It started small—your textbooks disappearing, your locker being tampered with. Then it escalated. Falsely being accused of cheating on a major test, only for the principal to call you into his office, pretending to be “concerned” while Sasuke stood smugly behind him.

“I saw her,” Sasuke had said, his tone calm but full of venom. “She had notes hidden in her lap. I figured someone like her wouldn’t be smart enough to pass on her own.”

Your protests had fallen on deaf ears, and while you weren’t formally punished, the damage to your reputation was done. Sasuke always made sure of it.

You blinked at him, confused. “Take me out? Like, to lunch?”

Kiba chuckled, stepping closer, his tone dropping to something lower. “Sure, lunch… or whatever else you’d like.”

“Oh! Um, thanks, but I think I’m okay,” you replied, smiling politely but completely missing his insinuation.

Before Kiba could press further, Sai appeared, sliding in smoothly with his usual unreadable smirk. “Kiba, you’re coming on too strong,” Sai said, his voice calm but condescending.

“Mind your business,” Kiba snapped, glaring at him.

Sai ignored him, his sharp gaze fixed on you. “Don’t let him bother you, [Name]. You look stunning today. Really… captivating.” His words made your stomach twist, though you couldn’t place why.

“Oh, um, thank you, Sai,” you mumbled, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why don’t I walk you to class?” Sai offered, taking a step closer.

“I was talking to her first!” Kiba cut in, stepping between you and Sai.

The two boys squared off, each sizing the other up like you were some kind of prize to be won. You took a step back, unsure how to handle the sudden tension. Now, you were standing in one of the school’s storage closets, the faint scent of cleaning supplies and dust filling your nose. The problem? You hadn’t willingly walked in here.

It had been another one of Sasuke’s “games.” He’d cornered you during lunch, his dark eyes gleaming with malicious amusement.

“What do you want?” you’d demanded, clutching your tray tightly.

“To talk,” he had said smoothly before leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “In private.”

You had tried to refuse, but it didn’t matter. Within moments, he’d dragged you down an empty hallway, ignoring your protests and shoving you into the closet. The sound of the lock clicking into place sent a wave of panic through you.

“Sasuke!” you yelled, pounding on the door. “Let me out!”

On the other side, you could hear his deep chuckle, full of mockery.

“Not until you say ‘please,’” he taunted.

“I’m serious! This isn’t funny!”

“Oh, but it is,” he replied, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’ve been walking around like you own the place lately, acting like you’re untouchable. I think you need a reminder of who’s really in charge here.”

Your hands balled into fists, tears of frustration prickling at your eyes. “What is wrong with you? Why do you keep doing this to me?”

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his tone colder this time. “Because I can. And because you need to learn that no one crosses an Uchiha.”

You slumped against the door, the weight of his words sinking in. There was no point in fighting him. No matter how much you wanted to report him, no one would believe you. The teachers, the principal—even the other students—they were all under his family’s thumb. Eventually, he opened the door, his smirk as sharp as a knife. You tried to shove past him, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back into the room.

“Not so fast,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You think you can just walk away?”

“Let me go,” you snapped, trying to wrench your arm free, but his grip was ironclad.

He stepped closer, his dark eyes boring into yours. “You’re so naive, you know that? Always acting like you’re better than me. Like you don’t notice the way people look at you.”

You froze as his free hand brushed against your waist, his touch lingering for far too long.

“Stop it,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Why?” he asked, leaning in so his breath tickled your ear. “You don’t seem to mind when other guys look at you. Or is it just me you have a problem with?”

Your stomach twisted in disgust as his hand moved up to your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re pathetic,” he said, though his tone was almost… possessive. “Thinking you can escape me. Thinking you can avoid me.”

He finally released you, but not before brushing his fingers along your jaw. “Get used to it, [Name]. No one’s going to save you from me.” By the time you escaped his grip, you were trembling, anger and humiliation boiling inside you. But as you made your way to class, it was obvious nothing would change.

When you told Sakura and the others what had happened, they listened with concern but eventually fell silent, exchanging nervous glances.

“What?” you asked, your voice breaking.

“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Sakura said carefully, her eyes flickering to the side. “It’s just… it’s Sasuke. He gets away with everything.”

“Why doesn’t anyone do anything about it?”

“Because they’re scared,” Hinata whispered, her voice barely audible. “His family… they have too much power. Even the police don’t interfere with them.”

You wanted to scream, to cry, but you didn’t. Instead, you steeled yourself, determined not to let him break you.

But Sasuke wasn’t done. He never was. It wasn’t just the bullying. It was the way he always seemed to be watching you, his dark gaze following your every move. The way he’d corner you in empty hallways, his hands brushing against you as he whispered cruel taunts in your ear.

“You’re too soft,” he’d say, his tone mocking. “You’ll never survive here without me.”

You hated him. But more than that, you hated how powerless you felt.

Because in this school, Sasuke Uchiha wasn’t just a bully. He was a king. And no one defied him without paying the price.

The venue was breathtaking—an opulent mansion owned by the family of one of Sasuke’s basketball teammates. It wasn’t just any house; it was the kind of place you’d only see in movies. Ornate chandeliers lit the massive hallways, and floor-to-ceiling windows gave a view of the sprawling backyard, complete with a pool glowing under string lights. Music pulsed through the walls, heavy bass vibrating in the air, blending with the hum of laughter and conversation.

You arrived with your group of friends, feeling both excited and a little nervous. Parties like this weren’t your usual scene, but after much begging and coaxing from Sakura and Temari, you’d finally agreed.

“C’mon, you deserve to have fun!” Sakura had said earlier, practically dragging you out of your dorm room. “It’ll be good for you to let loose for once!”

And so, here you were, standing just inside the mansion’s grand entrance, your outfit—chosen with the help of your friends—turning heads as soon as you walked in. The black romper hugged your figure in all the right places, and the strappy heels accentuated your legs. Your long hair fell in loose waves down your back, catching the light every time you moved.

“You look so hot tonight,” Temari whispered, leaning in with a grin as she linked her arm with yours. “Every guy here is going to be all over you.”

You laughed nervously. “Let’s hope not.”

But even as you said it, you could feel eyes on you—lingering stares from guys scattered throughout the room. You tried to focus on your friends instead. The night started off lighthearted. Drinks were poured, laughter filled the air, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. Sakura found her boyfriend almost immediately, pulling him into a kiss before disappearing into the crowd with him. Temari and Hinata were quick to drag you toward the bar, where a line of colorful cocktails was set up.

“You have to try this one,” Temari said, handing you a drink with a mischievous smile. “It’s sweet, but it’ll hit you later if you’re not careful.”

“Should I be worried?” you asked, eyeing the drink suspiciously.

“Only if you’re a lightweight,” she teased.

The first sip was surprisingly good, and before you knew it, you were halfway through your second glass. The alcohol loosened your nerves, making it easier to join in the fun. The girls dragged you onto the dance floor, where the music thumped loudly, and the energy was contagious.

Tenten twirled you around, laughing as you stumbled slightly in your heels. “You’re getting the hang of this!” she said.

“Barely,” you replied, giggling.

The group danced together, your movements syncing with the rhythm of the music. You felt free, the worries of the week melting away as you lost yourself in the moment.

But across the room, someone else was watching.

Sasuke stood with his group near the bar, a drink in hand. His dark eyes followed your every move, narrowing slightly when he noticed the way other guys were starting to notice you too. He didn’t say anything, but his grip on his glass tightened.

Naruto nudged him. “You okay, man? You’ve been staring over there for a while.”

Sasuke didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he downed the rest of his drink and set the glass on the counter with more force than necessary. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, though his gaze never left you. As the night wore on, your friends began to leave one by one. Temari and Hinata left first, with Naruto and Shikamaru escorting them out. Tenten left with Neji shortly after, and Sakura had long since disappeared with her boyfriend.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured them when they asked if you wanted to leave too.

But now, as the crowd thinned and the music softened, you realized you were alone.

Or so you thought.

Sasuke appeared beside you, his presence suffocating as he leaned in close. “Looks like it’s just us now.”

His words sent a chill dowon your spine, and you suddenly felt very aware of how vulnerable you were.

“Get off me sasuke!” With your friends now gone from the party you were now vulnerable to sasuke and he took this time to make his full move on you. Getting tired of you fighting agasint him he smacks so hard that your head whipped back to two sides you then look at him with teary eyes terrified of him. That was moment he realized how much control he had of you. And how innocent you were.

“Just wait until we get into in my dorm Im gonna ruin you.” He says darkly chuckling to himself.

You are now currently in sasuke dorm His hands are on your waist, pressing you agasint the wall with no way out. You try to protest but kisses you immediately with tongue causing tension to rise he presses you into the wall further after he finishes kissing you salvia breaks apart with your heaving breathing. God he just wants to ruin. He then grabs the back of your hair gripping it tightly. “Im going to lift you up on my shoulders and if you try anything it won’t end well for you. “

You whimper in response not knowing what to say he took that as you responding and lift your legs up on his shoulders. He takes off your red lace panties tucking them in his pockets. “We’re gonna fall!-“ he then uses he left arm grabbing my mother closing my mouth shut. He then presses his mouth up to your cunt his tongue wrapping around clit you immediately let out a small moan and whimper. You never touched yourself so this new feeling felt intense.

Letting he left hand go off your mouth he starts kneading both of your breasts adding more pleasure. He continues to suck and lick at your clit skillfully. Your breath catches in your throat swallowing a lump in your throat, your head starts to fall back into the wall gripping on sasuke’s hair. It feels so good. Way too good. Tears start to well up in your eyes. “Sasuke T-to much-“ Your voice is weak as you protest. “Well Thats just to bad.” He then uses his finger against your hole, twisting it until it pushes your velvet walls. He then hums lapping at your clit, sloppily pressing his tongue on your clit dragging upwards before moving his tongue side to side across your bud. Sasuke then starts sloppily using his finger in your hole pressing against your g spot.

You start to let out incoherent moans and cries. “P-please it’s to much!” Sasuke then looks up at you for a second. “Can’t even speak correctly I must be eating you out to good.” He then stoops eating you out using his fingers for your hole. His fingers then start pounding into your hole relentlessly the heel of his hand slapping against your clit. You then feel something way intense. Too intense. You then feel you a knot coming into your stomach and your toes curling. “It hurts sasuke.” He then looks up at you again. “Your to tight just calm down.” He then uses his fingers to rub at your clit. And your mouth forms into an O shape letting out loud moans.

Your pleasure then builds up stacks of build unfold by itself. You cum hard. Nasty wet squelches could be heard around the room. Your now letting out broken moans and cries. Without stopping he then puts his mouth back on your clit still fingering hard he then curls his fingers into your g-spot. You sob, his pace being non persistent and mean, bullying you past your organisms. And you start to tremble heavily. “P/please Sasuke Im sorry just stop please-!” You cry desperately as his fingers curl into you harder his tongue slurping on your clit. You feel something deep inside you snap. You then let out a scream. You then feel something warm. You then look down on sasuke face in horror.

You squirted. Sasuke then speaks and laughs at your pathetic state did you just squirt? (Name).” Too out breath to say nothing you just stare at him with swelling eyes. He then drops you off his shoulders with your legs so wobbly he then pushes you on the bed harshly back hitting the bed. He then grabs one of your legs putting it on his shoulders “W-wait! I’ve never done this before.” He then takes off his clothes revealing his toned body. He pumps himself a few times. You then look at with tear filled eyes. “I-it won’t fit” You whimper. Sasuke just grins down and laugh at you.

“Then I’ll make it fit.” Beige surging his hips forward. He then bottoms you out in one go, his groan drowned out by your louder whines. Your previous orgasms let him slip right in, but damnit your walls hugged and squeezed him so tight, too much for him not to snap his hips forward. Your mouth gapes at his harsh rhythm creating a sloppy and nasty sound in the room that just drives him to fuck you harder and faster. Your insides felt so full that you could burst. His cock is doing nothing but spitting you apart in a way it got your brain melting into a putty. With your eyes getting watery as it is. Beautiful noises coming out of so loudly that sasuke had to bend down and shut you up himself squeezed your cheeks so hard your cheeks started looking like a red tomato. He then lets go kissing you sloppily a mess of salvia from both tongues disconnecting Sasuke then grabs a bouncing tit squeezes hard while he still kept you face upturned to his, calling you degrading words while his hand was rubbing on your clit again. “You don’t want this but you’re being a crybaby creaming around me.” He said looking at your teary eyes.

He can feel himself bump into your cervix, He then looks back up to look at your face to see that yiur eyes had permanently rolled back of your head, your tongue out and drooling. God he wanna stay in this moment forever. Sasuke then engrave the image of you in the back of his mind immediately throwing his head back with a loud moan, the rough rutting of his hips having your hand to try and push him off weakly when your insides throbbed, incoherent babbles then come out of your mouth about a organism. “Yeah? Gonna cum again crybaby?” He rasps out, gathers your wrists tight in one hand as he fucked you hard and rough with everything he had, delirious in his own upcoming high. “Cmon crybaby cum all over my cock. Fuuuckkk-“

You couldn’t even form words, you just came seconds after with your back curling off thr bed, dumb squeals and cries muffled by sasuke hand. The bed creaking and headboard hitting the wall so aggressively. His hand pushing you roughly on the in the pillow, a spew of curses leaving his lips out of pure bliss HES feeling right now. He panted out like a a dog, still cumming lazily rocking shallow thrusts into you, blobs of white overflowing around the edges and dribbling in a puddle under your ass. He finally pulls out. He then lets out a laugh at your fucked out expression. He leaned then licking your neck and kissing it. You then let out a whimper.

You tried to get up but he pushes you back down. “Lay back down you’re not going anywhere looking like that.” With no energy left you just do as he says. Immediately falling asleep in his arms.

#tw noncon #dark fic #x reader #sasuke smut #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x reader #authors on tumblr #tw: alcohol #yandere sasuke #naruto fandom #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #x reader smut #sasuke imagines #fypage #fyp #smut

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sp6ncers · 15 hours ago

Text

platform boots — s reid

summary: reader decides that spencer would look good in her style, and gives him a make over

spencer reid x trad goth! fem! reader. fluff. 2nd person, pov switches.

warnings/content: harassment, mentions of sexual harassment and bullying, established relationship, idiots in love, reader is shorter than spencer, reader gets called a bitch but not by spencer, pet names (silly girl, baby, pretty boy, angel), kissing, kinda insecure reader

wc : ~ 3k

author's note : my 2nd tumblr fic now that im getting the hang of it! this is literally just a cute fluffy fic because i want to and every day i dream of alternative spencer reid 🙂‍↕️ not really any specific season in mind but i pictured longer hair spencer for this, maybe season 4 or 5 :)) sorry if this is ass i got lazy because i so much prefer writing angst ijbol

Being an alternative woman in public is one thing, but being an alternative woman whose boyfriend is practically the complete opposite of you is a whole different issue. You're used to the comments that get thrown at you — after all, you've dealt with that for years, since you started dressing "unconventionally" in middle school. You've learned to ignore the sexualising comments from teenage boys and old men alike, and you can easily tune out the disapproving glares from middle aged women. However, what you aren't as okay with is when people bring your boyfriend into it.

You and Spencer are sitting together on the train home from a museum date, your knees touching as he holds your hand, fidgeting with your rings. You feel the gazes of a group of young boys — no more than fifteen — not far away from where you sit. You decide to ignore them, like you usually do, and you just hope that they don't decide to yell at you like you sometimes have had people do.

Your gaze traces over your boyfriend, and you find yourself unable to suppress a smile. As the days are getting colder, he's been wearing more layers, and it's just so cute. You love the way his scarf is wrapped around his neck and tucked into the dark brown jacket he's wearing. The soft waves of hair that frame his face are even more adorable when they're brushing over the rosiness of his cold cheeks.

Feeling you looking at him, Spencer looks away from your hands and up to your face. "What?" he asks with a smile of his own as he sees your grin.

"Nothing," you reply, nudging your knee against his. "You're just cute."

He smiles shyly, a pink tint creeping across his face. "No, I'm not," he responds. He's never been good at accepting compliments.

Raising a teasing eyebrow, you let a joking scold taint your voice as you say, "Don't argue with me, Dr Reid."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckles breathily, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Spencer's eyes fall to the floor, where your chunky platform boots rest beside his battered converse. He always loves it when you wear these boots, he thinks they're pretty with the silver studs you had glued onto them and the maroon laces you'd threaded through the eyelets. He's always admired how crafty you are, how you can make any basic item of clothing into something much more extravagant. Something else he loves about these boots is that they make you a little taller — still not as tall as him, but it makes it easier for him to kiss you.

Moving away from your boots, his gaze follows your legs, clad in two pairs of thermal tights beneath the long black skirt you're wearing. He'd watched you embroider the pattern of roses into the fabric a few weeks ago, practically in a trance. The way your eyebrows had been furrowed in concentration as your fingers swiftly worked was a beautiful thing to watch. He's convinced you could craft the galaxy with your bare hands if you wanted to.

Hazel eyes trace over your thighs and up your torso, flickering across the many layers you're wearing. He counts four — maybe five? — layers, which isn't surprising considering how prone to getting cold you are. The neckline of a lacy purple long-sleeve peeks out from beneath your Bauhaus T-shirt, which is partially hidden by a black zip-up that you had painted a pattern onto in bleach. Over the zip-up sits your baggy leather jacket, something you rarely leave the apartment without. A few necklaces decorate your neck, most of them ones that he had given you.

As his gaze finds yours again, he smiles. A cheesy, cute, I'm-so-in-love-with-you smile. When you smile back, his heart skips a beat. He loves the way the eyeliner cobwebs attached to the thick wing on your eyes shift with the movement of your pretty, black-painted lips.

"You're so pretty," Spencer tells you softly. He looks at you as if you'd just reached into the sky and handed him the moon.

Heat rises to your cheeks at his words — even after almost two years of dating, you still feel butterflies whenever he compliments you. You don't think that feeling will ever go away. You don't want it to. "So are you," you respond, giving his hand a squeeze.

As you say the words, the train slows to a halt at your stop. The both of you wait until it has fully stopped before standing and heading to the doors. As you do, the boys you'd caught staring at you earlier decide it would be amusing to yell at you.

"Emo bitch!" one of them shouts, his voice cracking embarrassingly. It almost makes you crack a smile.

Spencer squeezes your hand, a silent way to tell you it's okay and to not say anything back, but you're already glancing back at the laughing group with a cold glare. You part your lips to retaliate, but decide that your boyfriend is right. You stick to simply flipping them off as the two of you exit the train.

As you look back at Spencer, he gives you a pointed look. You shrug and say, "What? I didn't say anything." But you know you wouldn't have stayed silent if anything had been said about him instead.

You switch sides with him, slipping your hand into his as you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. The walk home is quiet and peaceful, thankfully void of any more cruel comments from strangers. Spencer's hand is somehow warm in yours, despite the frosty air and cold breeze that bites at your skin. Fallen leaves crunch beneath your shoes as the wind nudges them across the ground.

When you reach your shared apartment, Spencer quickly turns up the thermostat as you both step inside. As you both shrug off your jackets and hang them up, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead — likely trying to determine how cold you are.

"Do you want a drink?" he asks whilst tugging off his converse. "Tea?"

"No, I'm okay," you reply, plopping down onto the floor to take off your boots. Unzipping one, you let out a little grunt of effort as you tug it from your foot. "You know what I do want, though?"

"What?"

"I want..." You pause as you pull off the other boot, biting your lip. "I want to put make-up on you. My kind of make-up."

His eyes find yours as he tilts his head slightly. "You do?"

You hesitate, unsure if his response means that he is repulsed by the idea and would rather lick the floor of your building's elevator than let you do that. Looking away, your voice falls quieter as you reply, "I don't have to. It was just an idea. Sorry. It was stupid."

"Hey, silly girl." He sits in front of you on the floor, moving your boots out of the way as he shifts closer. "It's not stupid. Look at me," he says gently, tilting your chin up with his index and middle finger so that he can look into your eyes. "It's not a stupid idea. And you don't have to apologise. If that's something you want to do, I'd be more than happy to let you, okay?"

The slight pout on your lips is so adorable he feels like his heart might explode.

"Are you sure? You don't have to say yes," you mutter shyly. "It doesn't matter, really. You can say no, it's—"

"Baby," he cuts you off in a gentle voice, his tone one that makes your stomach flutter. The motherfucker always knows what to say and how to say it to shut you up. "I'm sure."

Your lips twitch into a nervous smile. He thinks it's so incredibly cute how you're so shy and sweet when most people would assume other things about you based on your appearance. He thinks it's silly how people make assumptions on others based on how they dress. He thinks a lot of things, but his mind goes blank when you lean in and kiss him.

Immediately kissing you back, he smiles against your lips and rests his hands on your waist to pull you just a bit closer. Knees knocking together, you break the kiss with a giggle and tuck his hair behind his ear.

"Do you want to do it now, or later?" he asks.

"Now. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Spencer says, smiling as he kisses you once more before standing up and pulling you to your feet.

So you head into the bathroom together, but you decide he's too tall for you to be able to do it properly when he's sat on the counter. He laughs when you tell him that, and disappears into the bedroom while you gather the rest of your make-up. Once you have everything, you follow after him into the bedroom.

"Sit on the bed," you instruct.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies with a laugh, sitting down with his back against the headboard.

Giggling softly, you walk over and set the various items in your arms on the nightstand. As you move to sit on the bed, straddling his lap, you shrug off the zip-up and drop it onto the other side of the bed. Even while you're doing something as simple as reaching over to grab a headband, Spencer still looks at you like you are the eighth wonder of the world.

You smile at him as you gently push the headband into his hair, keeping it back off his face. It's gotten so long recently — not that you're complaining. You love running your hands through the soft strands, curling them around your fingertips. "You're so cute," you mutter. "My pretty boy."

You can feel the heat of his skin beneath yours as you cup his face between your hands and press a sweet kiss to his lips. Lips parting, tongues teasing each other's, his hands running up and down your sides, pulling you closer by the small of your back.

You break the kiss with a giggle, a string of spit attached between you. "Okay, we need to get started," you say through laughter as he licks his lips.

"One more kiss," he murmurs, leaning in and pecking you gently.

Smiling, you stroke his cheek for a moment before straightening up and reaching over to grab your moisturiser from the nightstand. Spencer watches you intently as you flick open the cap and squeeze some out onto your fingertips.

"It's cold," you warn him before you swipe the moisturiser onto his cheeks and gently rub it into his skin.

He doesn't mind the coldness of the liquid, just focusing on the feeling of your hands on his skin. He is pretty sure that your touch could make anything better.

He isn't sure if he is supposed to have his eyes open or shut as you dab some more onto his face, but he keeps them open so that he can look at you. The look of concentration on your face is so pretty.

He also isn't sure what to do with his hands — should he be touching you, or would that be a distraction? He keeps them lightly resting atop your thighs, knowing you'd tell him if you wanted him to stop touching you.

As you finish moisturising his skin, letting it sit for a few moments, you wipe off your fingers on a tissue and say, "You have really nice skin."

"That sounds like something a serial killer would say," he comments teasingly, a smile on his face.

"Shut up!" you giggle. "It's just a fact. Your skin is nice."

Swapping the moisturiser for a bottle of primer, you fall quiet as you flick open the cap. Soft hums of concentration vibrating through your lips, you rub it into his skin so that the make-up will actually stick to his face. His fingertips lightly trace rub circles onto your thighs as he watches you with nothing but awe and love in his eyes.

As you're blending out the white foundation onto his face with a damp beauty blender — he thinks that's what it is called — he wonders if he will look silly when you're done. Of course, he has never thought that you look silly when your make-up is all done, but he isn't you. To him, you look beautiful whatever you wear, however you present yourself. He's just not sure if this will suit him. Although, even if it looks bad on him, he'd let you do it over and over again until the end of time if it would make you happy.

Now that there is foundation spread evenly across his face, his skin feels kind of weird, but not exactly in a bad way. It almost feels tight, like something is pulling on it. It is a strangely nice sensation.

Spencer tries to stay still as you pat in the concealer beneath his eyes, his eyelids twitching slightly.

"Stop moving," you scold playfully, pausing your actions for a moment.

"I'm trying," he replies, his voice a breathy chuckle.

"Try harder."

"You're so bossy."

"You know you love it."

He smiles, amused. You're right, he does love it. He loves anything and everything that you do. Since the moment he met you, he has been completely whipped. Obsessed. In love.

After finishing the grey-ish contour on his nose and beneath his cheekbones, you start on the eyeliner. You decide to do something simple, rather than the more elaborate designs you sometimes do on yourself. Beginning to draw a wing from the corner of his eye, you will your hand to not shake like it usually does; you don't want to end up getting overly frustrated and having to redraw it fifty times.

Somehow, it goes smoothly, and you finish both wings without a problem. You use a black eyeliner pencil on his waterlines and add a smidge of dark purple eyeshadow to his lids before curling his lashes. How come men always have such luxurious eyelashes? you think.

"Okay, I'm not gonna put on false lashes, I'll just do mascara," you tell him, leaning over to grab one of your unused mascaras from the nightstand.

As you do, you shift too much weight and almost fall off the bed. Quickly, Spencer leans forward steadies you with a hold on your waist. "Careful there, angel," he laughs in a teasing tone. "You're so clumsy sometimes."

"Well, says the one who spilt coffee on the counter twice in one day last week!" you reply, giggling.

"I never claimed to not be clumsy," he counters, patting your thigh. "JJ is right when she says that my coordination drops off when I'm thinking."

"A wise woman," you muse.

"Very."

You smile, kiss his forehead, and grab the mascara. As you twist it open and wipe off the excess, you say, "Okay, just blink when I say to, okay?"

"Okay."

So you apply mascara to his stupidly nice eyelashes, dab a tiny bit of highlighter onto the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, and put a simple lip combo on his beautiful lips.

"Okay, there. I think it's done," you say. Quickly, you take it back. "Wait, I need to do your hair."

"Alright," he chuckles as you take the headband out of his hair, discarding it onto the nightstand.

You head off into the bathroom to grab your hairbrush, returning a moment later with it and a few hair ties. You manoeuvre him into the position you want — sitting more in the middle of the bed — and sit behind him on your knees.

"Your hair is so soft," you murmur as you gently run your fingers through it.

"You say that every single time you play with my hair," he points out, a smile in his voice.

"And it's true every single time," you reply as you start to brush his hair.

Spencer hums contentedly, his eyes falling shut as you brush his hair. He's always loved when you touch his hair, whether that is stroking it, twisting it around your fingers, or pulling it. He loves it all.

As you brush his hair, taking your time, you wonder if he will like it. You wonder if he's enjoying this. You wonder if he liked letting you put make-up on him.

"I would, maybe, dress you up in my clothes, but I don't think any of them would fit you."

He laughs softly. "Yeah, probably not."

"And my boots certainly wouldn't fit your gigantic feet," you tease.

"Maybe your feet are just tiny," Spencer counters jokingly.

When you're satisfied that his hair is thoroughly brushed, you part it down the middle, separating it into two even-ish sections. You braid each half, something you have always wanted to do with his hair but never asked out of fear of him saying no. But right now, he isn't protesting, which you take as a good sign.

"Okay, all done," you chime happily, letting the braids fall onto his shoulders.

"Done?"

"Mhm, done."

Hopping off the bed, you take his hands in yours and lead him into the bathroom. Before you step inside, you make him cover his eyes as you tell him, "Okay, you can't judge it because I'm not used to doing make-up on other people."

Spencer nods, practically itching to see his reflection. "I won't judge. I promise."

"Good. Okay, you— you can look now," you reply, standing beside him and looking at his reflection in the mirror as he moves his hands away from his face.

His reaction is hard to decipher, but at least he does not look repulsed. After a moment of studying his face, his lips twitch into a smile.

"It looks good."

"Really?" you ask, rocking back and forth on your feet as you fidget with your sleeves.

"Yeah. I— I mean, it's obviously not something I'm used to, but it's... cool," he says with a soft laugh, turning to face you.

You smile, biting your lip. "Good. Okay, good. I'm glad you don't... you know, hate it."

Smiling back at you, Spencer wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. "I could never hate anything you do."

"You're so cheesy."

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #x reader #goth! reader #fem! reader #alt! reader #alternative #alt #goth #trad goth

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cameronsprincess · 13 hours ago

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hi uh im rlly nervous sending this bc this is my first time sending an anon and idk if like ur blurb requests are open

but i’d love to hear how u think a makeout / dry humping session would go about between the two subby boys and how dom reader would react to them 🥹🥹

i understand if they’re not open, im js very new to this and unsure

hi, please don’t be nervous baby this is a safe space<3

i think a make-out/dry humping session between rafe and jj would start out as them fucking around with each other, like i answered an ask earlier about them play fighting a lot! i think it would start with scenarios like that! let’s set the scene…

you’re sitting on the couch, legs crossed as you watch rafe and jj wrestle around on the floor. you love them both, but obviously rafe usually has the upper hand so you’d be cheering jj on, “go j!! you got this!”

rafe would glare up at you, momentarily distracted and giving jj the upper hand. jj would flip rafe onto his back, pinning him down with his body weight. rafe would be breathing heavily, his eyes burning into jj when he feels jj’s hard cock pressing into his abdomen. i think rafe would tease him for this, “awww, what’s wrong jj? does it make you hard when i toss you around?”

jj would scoff, slapping rafe playfully in the back of the head, “fuck off, rafe.” rafe would laugh it off, pulling an arm free from jj’s hold and move to grip the back of jj’s neck. he’d slowly pull jj’s head down, brushing his lips against his, “you’re so fucking needy all the time, j.”

i see jj panting, his eyes flickering between rafe’s eyes and his lips. jj would finally cave and press his lips to rafe’s quickly pushing his tongue into his mouth. rafe would be shocked, but he’d melt into jj, kissing him back and grinding his cock against jj’s. you’d just be sitting there, watching them hump each other and kiss sloppily. it would turn you on and you’d strip your lower half, playing with yourself as you watch your boys get off on each other. i firmly believe you’d praise them for it too, telling them how hot they are and how you love when they get like this!

#₊˚ෆ answered #₊˚ෆ anon asks #rafe x reader x jj concepts #rafe cameron #jj maybank

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dckweed · 1 day ago

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THE NEXT THING YOU KNOW, gator tillman

in which gator tillman and his arranged bride figure out life and each other and what a real relationship means to them.

warnings: mentions and depictions of abuse, mentions of bruises, arranged marriages, romance, humor, dead parents, slow burn relationship (not completely but not not), basically we know the tillman men are asswipes so i 100% see Roy forcing gator into this kind of situation for money for his militia, eventual smut with kinks such as thigh riding, gun play, choking, spanking, lots of marking and possible spit play. this chapter does not contain explicit smut, but does contain mentions of blowjobs and ejaculation on tits. 18 & over only, MINORS DO NOT READ.

hiiiiiiiiiiii its been a while huh? thought i would feed you guys with a nice long one..not proof read, im half asleep with a sick toddler on top of me, most of this is also unplanned (as is most of the things i write). let me know how we like lu! what do we think of her and gator? and the ending? the engagement party????

please click this link! each click helps me earn some extra money, as well as each person that clicks the link and signs up (its completely free, and takes 0 time), a completely harmless way to earn some extra cash that doesn't involve giving me any of your own!

i would also like to maybe have a little competition to see who can make me a new aesthetic/moodboard for these two? winner will get a 20$ dunkin or starbs gift card (your choice)! let me know if anyone is interested!

also, as a reminder i love receiving asks about these two! i also love recieving maybe some drabble ideas too :) my inbox is always open!

series masterlist here, series playlist here.

PART EIGHT: lu and the engagement party

Saturday came faster than you realized, your alarm clock bleating in your ear before the sun was even up. You don’t even open your eyes when you reach your arm out to slap the button you know will shut it up, reaching out from under the covers blindly with a groan. A whiney noise comes from the body under your cheek, the noise rumbling in his chest and vibrating your cheek as he tightens his arm around you. “S’time to get up, Gator..” You say softly, yawning, head still under the covers.

He hums, hand rubbing over your back softly. “She really that good of a friend that we can’t let her sit there for a few hours?” He grumbles and you bite his pec, for the fact of being purely too lazy to raise your arm again and smack him. “Ow! Geez, I get it!” He starts to sit up, you in his lap as he grumbles under his breath about how you’re part vampire or something with the way you just chomped down on him, how you’re a mean bitch when you’re tired and all you do is grumble in return, biting his neck this time. “Joke’s on you, that one felt good” He chuckles, slipping out from underneath of you and heading for the bathroom.

You follow after him in nothing but your bra and panties, rubbing your puffy, tired eyes. You had been up with Boyd half the night, the other half spent waiting for Gator to come to your house after work so you could crawl into bed with him, having quickly become used to him just being there and suddenly unable to sleep without him. “M’sleepy..” You whine, stamping your foot on the ground as you shiver, before pouting when he just raises an eyebrow at you and hands you your tooth brush and your basket of skin care items.

You completely ignore the way his eyes roam over you, letting him stare at your tits as they jiggle when you brush your teeth, as if you hadn’t let him cum all over them last night when you had given him another blow job before bed, just for funsies this time. As if you hadn’t teased him all night long with some topless selfies...

You pout and stomp your foot again when he pushes you out towards your closet, crying out when he lands a harsh smack to your ass. “Quit it with that bratty behavior, ‘fore i put that mouth to use to stop that damn whinin’” He commands, ushering you into your closet. He kept a drawer of his clothes in there now, at your urging seeing as you had filled his drawers with a bunch of your stuff at his house. You wasted no time in helping yourself to one of his giant stark county sheriff’s tshirts, much to his chagrin, pairing it with a pair of denim high waisted shorts and some sandals to show off your pretty pink toenails that he vaguely remembered paying to have done.

“Going for comfort today, Pearlie?” He asks, pulling his own tshirt on, you only hum, pressing your face into his back as you wrap your arms around his middle, making it difficult for him to get dressed. You were like a clingy toddler some mornings, and he couldn’t say that he didn’t love it.

It took another twenty minutes or so to get you out of the house, your hair up in a claw clip as you trailed behind him, eyes half closed still, heavy with sleep. The keys to your jeep dangled from your hand and dutifully he opens the passenger side door for you, patting your butt as you climb in with a murmured promise to stop and get you some coffee.

The sunrise spills across the horizon, painting the world in shades of soft gold and pink as you sip your iced coffee and lean back in the passenger seat of your Jeep. The caffeine hasn’t quite kicked in yet, but it doesn’t matter. Exhaustion clings to you both, but somehow, sitting here with him feels like the most peaceful place in the world.

Gator’s hand rests firmly on your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the denim of your shorts. It’s such a small gesture, but it anchors you. He’s driving, his long fingers draped over the wheel like he was born to hold it. You glance at him, the way the morning light sharpens his profile, and feel a familiar flutter in your chest. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this—how natural it feels to have him beside you, even in the simplest moments.

“You and that coffee,” he teases, glancing at you with that lopsided grin that always makes you roll your eyes and smile at the same time. “One of these days, I’m gonna figure out how much you’ve spent on those things and send you the bill.”

“You’d never,” you shoot back, taking another sip just to spite him. “And besides, you keep buying them for me, so really, whose fault is it?”

“Guess I’m just a sucker,” he mutters, shaking his head. But the corners of his mouth twitch upward, and you know he doesn’t mind one bit.

The radio hums softly in the background, a mix of new country songs you’ve been obsessing over lately. Your face lights up as the familiar opening chords of Morgan Wallen’s latest hit fill the car. Without thinking, you crank the volume, squealing in excitement. “Oh my God, this is my song! Turn it up, turn it up!”

Gator groans in mock agony, but he complies, his fingers twisting the knob. “This is, what, the fifth ‘favorite song’ you’ve had this month?”

“Shut up and sing with me,” you order, already belting out the lyrics—off-key, of course, but you don’t care. The wind rushes in through the open windows, carrying your voice out into the morning air. You’re loud and unapologetic, and it makes you laugh when he winces like your singing physically hurts him.

“Jesus, Pearlie,” he says, shaking his head as he joins in, purposely worse than you just to make you laugh. And laugh you do, doubling over in your seat until tears stream down your cheeks, your coffee threatening to spill in your hand.

“Careful,” he warns, grinning as he takes his eyes off the road for just a second to glance at you. “You’re gonna wreck that bougie drink of yours all over my seats.”

You can’t even respond to remind him that they’re your seats; you’re laughing too hard to form words. The song ends, leaving you breathless and buzzing with the kind of giddy energy only he can bring out of you. You look over at him, his face relaxed and happy as he keeps one hand steady on the wheel and the other warm on your leg.

“You’re having fun,” you point out, nudging him with your elbow.

He raises a brow. “You’re a mess, Pearlie. How could I not?”

You roll your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat as the next song comes on, softer and slower. The moment shifts, settling into something quieter, but no less warm. You watch him for a while, the way his fingers drum lightly against the wheel in time with the music, his face relaxed but focused. It hits you, suddenly and completely: how good he is to you. How steady, how sure.

“You’re gonna love Lu,” you say, breaking the silence. “She’s known me forever. Longer than anyone. She’s like family.”

He hums, nodding. “She sounds like a badass. I’m looking forward to it.”

“She’ll probably grill you,” you warn, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “She’s protective.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replies, squeezing your thigh gently. “But I’ll win her over.”

“Confident, are we?” you tease, sipping your coffee.

“Let’s just say,” he says, his voice softening, “I’ve got a good reason to make a good impression.”

The way he says it—the way his fingers tighten slightly on your leg, the way his eyes flick to yours for just a second—makes your chest ache in the best way. He doesn’t have to spell it out for you; you know. You know he means you.

You let your hand rest on top of his, your thumb brushing against his knuckles. The road stretches out ahead of you, golden and endless, and for the first time in a long time, you feel completely at peace.

These moments—the ones that seem so small—are the ones you’ll remember. Just you and him, the open road, and the kind of love that makes everything else fade into the background.

The airport buzzes with the chaotic energy of travelers—hurried footsteps, rolling luggage, voices blending into a steady hum. You stand at the baggage claim, shifting from one foot to the other, chewing your nails in nervous anticipation. You know it’s a bad habit, one you’ve tried to break, but right now, the energy coursing through you makes it impossible to stop.

"Pearlie, come on," Gator says gently, nudging your elbow. He’s leaning casually against a column, trying to act unaffected, but you catch the glint of amusement in his eyes. "You’re gonna chew your fingers off before she even gets here."

You shoot him a glare, but it’s half-hearted. "I can’t help it. She’s taking forever. What if she got lost? Or missed her connection?"

He chuckles, his hand slipping onto your waist as if to ground you. "It’s been, what, two months since you saw her? I think you’ll survive a few more minutes."

Two months. You know it hasn’t been that long since graduation, but it feels like a lifetime. There’s a particular ache that only comes from being separated from someone who knows every version of you—someone who’s been there through it all. Lu isn’t just your best friend; she’s your other half.

Your eyes scan the bustling area again, and just as you’re about to spiral into another wave of impatience, you spot her. She’s bounding down the escalator, her carry-on backpack bouncing wildly on her shoulders, her hair swinging in every direction. And before you can process it, she’s charging toward you at full speed, her arms flailing as she screams your name.

"PEARLIE!"

You barely have time to brace yourself before she launches at you like a missile, her full weight colliding with you as she leaps onto your back. Her arms wrap around your neck, squeezing tightly as the force sends you stumbling forward with a laugh and a shriek.

"LU!" you cry, barely able to get the word out through your laughter as you try to keep your balance. She’s clinging to you like a koala, her legs wrapping around your waist as she plants a noisy kiss on your cheek.

"God, I missed you!" she exclaims, practically squeezing the life out of you. "It’s been forever!"

"You saw me at graduation!" you protest, though your arms instinctively come up to hold her. Tears sting your eyes, and you don’t even try to blink them away. "Two months, Lu. Two!"

"Two months too long," she says dramatically, leaning her head on your shoulder.

You’re both laughing now, the sound blending with the cacophony of the airport, when suddenly, Lu is yanked off you.

"What the—" Gator’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp and protective. He’s pulled Lu off you like she’s some kind of attacker, his hands firm on her shoulders as he moves to position himself between you and her.

The look of pure confusion on Lu’s face is priceless. "Uh, who’s this guy?" she asks, her voice dripping with amusement as she takes him in, her eyes scanning his broad shoulders and serious expression. "Your bodyguard?"

You’re too busy laughing to respond right away, but when you see Gator’s face—his brows furrowed, his jaw tight—you quickly intervene. "Gator, it’s okay!" you say, stepping forward and grabbing his arm. "This is Lu. My best friend."

He blinks, his grip on her shoulders loosening as he glances between the two of you. "Oh." His expression shifts from defensive to sheepish in an instant. "Sorry. You came in hot, and I—"

"Relax, Big Guy," Lu interrupts, her lips twitching into a smirk as she pats his arm. "I’m not here to steal your girl. Well," she adds with a playful shrug, "not permanently, anyway."

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop smiling. Gator looks down at you, his own lips quirking into a reluctant grin as he mutters, "Guess I overreacted."

"A little," you tease, leaning into his side. "But it’s kind of sweet."

"Sweet, huh?" Lu says, her eyes narrowing as she steps closer, poking Gator in the chest. "So you’re the famous Gator. The one who’s got my Pearlie all head over heels."

"That’d be me," he says, his grin turning more confident now as he extends a hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Lu. I’ve heard a lot about you."

"Good things, I hope," she says, shaking his hand firmly before turning back to you. "Well, I gotta say, Pearlie, he’s cute. And tall. You did good."

"Can we not?" you groan, your cheeks flushing as you try to drag her toward the exit. But even as she continues to tease you, you can’t stop the warmth blooming in your chest. Lu’s here. Gator’s here. And for the first time in what feels like forever, everything feels exactly as it should be.

After picking Lu up from the airport and loading her bags into the Jeep, Gator insisted on taking you both out to eat before starting the long drive back to Lehigh. You protested at first, but Lu’s excited agreement overruled you. “I’m starving,” she declared. “Airplane snacks don’t count as real food.”

The three of you ended up at a cozy diner just off the highway. Gator slid into the booth beside you while Lu sat across, her sharp eyes darting between the two of you with a curiosity that made you squirm. He handed you a menu but didn’t bother opening one for himself. You both knew he’d order the same thing he always did—something hearty and simple.

When the waitress came by, Gator didn’t hesitate to pay for all three of you, brushing off Lu’s protest with a casual, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.” She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push, giving him an approving nod instead.

As you waited for your food, you launched into an animated retelling of the story behind your engagement ring. “So, we were at the bridal shop, helping our little sisters find flower girl dresses,” you began, your hands gesturing wildly. “And I’m in the dressing room, trying on wedding dresses, when he just—he pulls out the ring.”

Lu’s eyes widened. “In the dressing room? Bold move.”

“I know, right?” you laughed. “And the ring—it’s this huge oval diamond on the simplest band. It’s perfect. He spent so much on it, and then I spent so much on my wedding dress, Boyd was furious. But I didn’t care.”

“Wait, Boyd was mad about the dress?” Lu asked, leaning forward with interest.

“Oh, yeah. He thought it was too extravagant or something, or too..ugh..whorey? I told him to shove it.” You grinned, pride shining in your eyes. “And then I smacked him the other day.”

Lu burst out laughing. “You what?”

“I smacked him,” you repeated, your grin widening. “He was being an ass, as usual. Gator’s still proud of me for it.”

“Damn right I am,” Gator chimed in, his arm resting on the back of the booth behind you. His voice was warm and steady, but his eyes were soft as he watched you. He didn’t say much during the meal, content to sit back and listen to you and Lu catch up. The way you lit up, your laughter filling the small diner, made his chest ache in the best way.

The drive back to Boyd’s was long, the five-hour stretch of highway rolling out like an endless ribbon in front of Gator’s truck. Pearl had fallen asleep not long after they hit the road, her head resting against the window, her breathing soft and steady. Gator glanced at her every so often, a faint smile playing on his lips. She looked so peaceful, her usual worries and nerves smoothed away in sleep.

In the backseat, Lu was wide awake, her sharp eyes fixed on Gator. She leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees. “So,” she started, breaking the comfortable silence, “you and Pearlie. How serious is this, really?”

Gator flicked a quick glance at her in the rearview mirror, his hands steady on the wheel. “Serious enough that I’m marrying her,” he said evenly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. “That’s usually a pretty good indicator.”

Lu rolled her eyes. “Don’t play smart with me, Big Guy. I know it’s an arranged marriage. I just want to make sure you actually care about her. Because if you don’t…” She let the sentence hang, her meaning crystal clear.

Gator’s grip on the wheel tightened for a moment before he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. “I get it,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re looking out for her, and I respect that. But let me make one thing clear—Pearlie means everything to me. I don’t care how this started. I’m all in.”

Lu studied him for a long moment, her sharp gaze unnerving but oddly comforting. It reminded him of Pearl’s own protective nature, and he found himself grateful that she had someone like Lu in her corner. “Good,” Lu said finally, leaning back in her seat. “Because she deserves someone who’s all in. She’s been through enough.”

Gator nodded, his jaw tightening as he fought the urge to ask Lu just how much she knew about what Pearl had been through. Instead, he let the conversation flow naturally, focusing on keeping things light for now. “So, is this the part where you grill me about my intentions or something?” he teased, throwing her a quick grin in the rearview mirror.

Lu smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, don’t think you’re off the hook yet. Pearlie told me you can’t cook to save your life. You burned spaghetti and grilled cheese? Seriously?”

Gator groaned, shaking his head. “She told you about that, huh? Look, it was one time—okay, maybe two—and I was distracted.”

“Distracted?” Lu laughed. “How do you get distracted cooking spaghetti?”

Gator’s lips twitched. “She walked in wearing one of my shirts and no pants. You try focusing after that.”

Lu burst out laughing, her head tipping back as she wiped at her eyes. “Alright, fair enough. But seriously, you better figure out how to cook something. She can’t live off iced coffee and snacks forever.”

“I’m working on it,” he said, his tone mock-defensive. “And for the record, I don’t mind paying for her coffee habit. If it makes her happy, it’s worth it.”

Lu hummed thoughtfully, her smile softening. “Alright, you’re scoring points, Gator. But tell me this—why don’t you ever let her drive her Jeep? She told me you always insist on being the one behind the wheel.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You ever been in a car with Pearlie driving? It’s terrifying. She doesn’t use turn signals half the time, she speeds, and she’s got no concept of personal space on the road. I’m not risking my life like that.”

Lu laughed again, covering her mouth to keep from waking Pearl. “You sound like an old man.”

“Maybe I am,” he admitted with a shrug. “But at least I’m an old man who’s alive.”

As their laughter faded, Lu’s eyes caught the faint glint of metal peeking out of Gator’s pocket. She leaned forward, pointing. “Is that a vape?”

Gator hesitated, glancing at her in the mirror. “Yeah, but don’t tell Pearlie. I told her I was cutting back.”

Lu grinned mischievously. “Your secret’s safe with me. But hand it over—I need a hit.”

He rolled his eyes but pulled the vape from his pocket, passing it back to her. “Here. But if she wakes up and catches us, you’re taking the blame.”

“Deal,” Lu said, taking a drag before exhaling slowly. “You know, I think I like you, Gator. You’re alright.”

“Thanks,” he replied dryly. “Glad to know I’ve got your approval.”

“Don’t get cocky,” she teased, handing the vape back to him. “You’re still on probation.”

He chuckled softly, tucking the vape back into his pocket as he glanced at Pearl, still sleeping peacefully. “Fair enough. But for what it’s worth, I really do love her. I’d do anything for her.”

Lu’s teasing smile softened, and she nodded. “I know. That’s why I think you’re alright. Just don’t screw it up, okay?”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice steady and resolute. “I won’t.”

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence, the bond between them growing stronger with each shared laugh and unspoken understanding. By the time they pulled into the long, winding driveway of Boyd’s ranch, Gator felt like he’d earned not just Lu’s approval, but her trust—and that meant more to him than he could put into words.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement and nerves. Lu’s arrival brought a sense of comfort and familiarity that you hadn’t realized how much you’d been craving. She hugged you tightly at the airport, her sharp eyes scanning your face as if she could see every worry you’d tried to hide.

“You look good, Pearlie,” she said, her tone soft but firm, as if daring you to argue. “Happier than the last time I saw you.”

“I am,” you replied, glancing at Gator, who was waiting a few steps behind with your bags. He gave you a small, reassuring smile, and you felt your shoulders relax just a little.

The three of you spent the afternoon going over wedding details, flipping through fabric swatches and floral arrangements. Lu’s sharp wit kept you laughing, and Gator’s steady presence made you feel like everything might actually come together in time. You tried on the engagement party dress for them, twirling in front of the mirror as Lu whistled appreciatively and Gator’s gaze darkened with something that made your cheeks flush.

“You’re stunning,” he said simply, his voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, you let yourself believe it.

But when the night of the engagement party arrived, a storm of emotions churned in your chest. It wasn’t just anxiety or excitement—it was something heavier, something you couldn’t quite name. You’d spent the day pretending everything was fine, smiling for Gator and Lu, going through the motions of final touches and last-minute preparations. But inside, you felt like a tightly wound string, ready to snap at the slightest pull.

The first sign that things were unraveling came when you were supposed to leave for the venue. You stood in front of the mirror, staring at the pink backless dress that had felt so perfect just hours ago. Now, it felt like a costume, like a version of yourself you didn’t recognize. Your fingers trembled as you touched the fabric, your reflection blurring as tears welled in your eyes.

You didn’t know how long you stood there, frozen, until your phone buzzed on the dresser. It was Gator, his name lighting up the screen. You didn’t answer. Instead, you grabbed another dress—something simpler, darker, with sleeves that covered your arms and a neckline that felt safer. You pulled it on quickly, your hands fumbling with the zipper as panic clawed at your throat.

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, the party was already in full swing. You slipped through the door quietly, hoping to go unnoticed, but Gator’s eyes found you almost instantly. The relief on his face was palpable, but it quickly shifted to confusion as he took in your appearance. This wasn’t the dress he’d been looking forward to seeing you in, the one you’d been so excited about.

You avoided his gaze, keeping your head down as you murmured apologies to the few guests who greeted you. The weight of their attention felt unbearable, like it might crush you at any moment. Gator reached you in a few long strides, his hand brushing the small of your back as he leaned in to ask, "Pearlie, what’s going on?"

You flinched at his touch, a reaction so small most wouldn’t have noticed, but he did. His hand fell away, his brow furrowing in concern. "Hey," he said softly, trying to meet your eyes. "Talk to me."

You shook your head, your voice barely audible as you whispered, "Not here."

He nodded, his jaw tight as he stepped back to give you space. But his eyes never left you, watching every move you made as if he could protect you from whatever was eating away at you. And maybe he could. Maybe that’s what scared you the most.

Later, when the party was winding down, Gator pulled you aside into a quiet hallway. His hands were gentle but firm on your shoulders as he guided you into an empty bathroom, closing the door behind you. "Pearlie," he said, his voice low but steady, "what’s going on? You’ve been off all night."

Your resolve crumbled under the weight of his concern. You turned away from him, your hands trembling as you reached for the hem of your dress. "I didn’t want to ruin tonight," you said, your voice breaking. "I didn’t want to make it about this."

"About what?" he asked, his tone laced with urgency.

You hesitated, then slowly lifted the back of your dress, revealing the fresh bruises and welts that marred your skin. Gator’s sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room, and when you finally turned to face him, his expression was a mix of fury and heartbreak.

"Boyd?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you whispered, "It’s worse when you’re not there. He knows you can’t be around all the time."

Gator’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his body vibrating with barely contained rage. "I swear to God, Pearlie, I’m not letting this go. He’s not touching you again."

You shook your head, panic rising in your chest. "You can’t do anything, Gator. If you try to go after him—"

"I’m not letting him get away with this," he interrupted, his voice trembling with emotion. "But I can’t do it alone. I have to talk to my father."

The mention of Sheriff Roy made your stomach drop. You knew their relationship was fraught, a toxic mix of authority and resentment. "Gator," you said hesitantly, "are you sure that’s a good idea? He’s... he’s not exactly—"

"I know what he is," Gator cut in, his eyes dark with determination. "But he’s the sheriff, and I need his permission to bring Boyd in. I’ll deal with him if it means keeping you safe."

You wanted to argue, to tell him it wasn’t worth it, but the look in his eyes stopped you. He wasn’t just angry; he was resolute. This wasn’t just about protecting you—it was about taking back control from the men who had tried to break both of you.

Gator pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried into his chest. "I’m gonna fix this, Pearlie," he murmured, his voice fierce and unwavering. "I promise you, I’m gonna fix this."

Hours later, after the engagement party had begun to dwindle and most of the guests had trickled out, Gator found himself at the bar. The room was quieter now, with the low hum of conversation and clinking glassware filling the air. Pearlie sat with Lu at a table on the far side of the restaurant, her laughter subdued, her gestures smaller. She wasn’t quite herself, and it gnawed at him.

He wasn’t going to let Boyd do this to her anymore. Not after tonight. Not ever again.

Roy sat next to him, nursing a whiskey on the rocks, his sharp eyes surveying the room like he was waiting for trouble to spark. The sheriff was an imposing figure, broad-shouldered and intimidating without even trying. His presence demanded authority, and his reputation in Stark County ensured it. But to Gator, he was just the man who had spent his life doling out discipline with a heavy hand and words that cut deeper than any belt.

Gator glanced over at Pearlie again, his jaw tightening. “I need your help,” he said finally, his voice low but firm.

Roy raised an eyebrow, swirling his drink as he turned to face his son. “Help with what?” he asked, his tone calm, almost detached.

“With Boyd,” Gator said, the name like poison on his tongue. His father’s expression didn’t shift, but Gator could feel the weight of his scrutiny. “He’s hurting her. And I can’t— I won’t let it happen again.”

Roy’s lips thinned as he set his glass down, the faintest clink of ice breaking the tension. “You sure you want to involve me in this, son? Last I checked, you’ve been doing everything to avoid following in my footsteps.”

Gator’s hands clenched into fists on the bar. “This isn’t about me or you. It’s about her. She’s got bruises on her back, Roy. She’s terrified to go home when I’m not there. And the bastard thinks he can get away with it because he has some damn contract with you.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed, the lines in his face deepening. “Boyd’s not a man to cross lightly,” he said, his voice carefully measured. “He’s got power, connections. You go after him without thinking, and it’s your badge on the line. Your future.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Gator snapped, his voice rising slightly before he reined it back in. “I care about Pearlie. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Roy studied him for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Gator’s jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving Pearlie’s figure across the room. “More than anything. I’d die for her if it meant she’d never have to feel scared again.”

Roy leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow exhale as he picked up his glass again. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But guts don’t always win the fight, son. Boyd’s a snake, and you don’t go after a snake without a plan.”

“So what’s the plan, then?” Gator asked, his voice sharp. “Because I’m not gonna sit around and wait for him to hurt her again.”

Roy took a sip of his whiskey, his gaze distant as he considered his words. “You’re gonna keep her close. Don’t let her out of your sight. I’ll start digging into Boyd’s dealings, see if there’s anything we can use against him. Something concrete. If he’s as untouchable as he likes to think, we’ll need leverage to bring him down.”

Gator’s stomach churned at the thought of working alongside his father, but he forced himself to nod. “Fine. But if he touches her again—”

“I know,” Roy interrupted, his tone cold and final. “You don’t have to tell me what you’ll do. But if you let your temper get the better of you, you’ll only make things worse. For you, and for her.”

Gator swallowed hard, his anger simmering just below the surface. He didn’t trust Roy, not fully, but he didn’t see another option. If getting his father involved meant protecting Pearlie, he’d do it. No matter how much it cost him.

“Keep her safe, Gator,” Roy said, his voice softer now, almost uncharacteristically so. “You’ve got more to lose than you realize.”

Gator didn’t respond, his eyes drifting back to Pearlie. She caught his gaze for a brief moment, offering him a small, tired smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. His chest tightened, the weight of the night settling heavily on his shoulders.

“I will,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Roy. “I’ll keep her safe. No matter what.”

Roy’s silence felt like an unspoken agreement, a tenuous truce forged in the name of protecting the one person who mattered most to Gator.

As the two men sat in the quiet tension of the bar, Gator’s resolve hardened. Boyd might think he was untouchable, but he’d underestimated just how far Gator was willing to go for Pearlie.

He’d make sure Boyd learned that lesson—one way or another.

Hours later, back at Boyd's the house was quiet, the kind of silence that made the creaks in the floorboards sound deafening. Gator moved carefully, his bare feet padding across the polished hardwood as he descended the grand staircase. The air in the mansion always felt cold, sterile, like the life it housed had been drained long ago.

Pearl was sound asleep upstairs, her soft breathing the last thing he’d heard before he’d slipped out of the room. She deserved to rest. To be at peace. That’s why he was doing this. That’s why he was creeping through the house like a thief, determined to find something—anything—that would give him leverage against Boyd.

He made his way toward Boyd’s office, the faint smell of cigars and leather lingering in the hallway. The door loomed ahead, slightly ajar, and he paused for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. If Boyd was hiding something, it would be here. Gator had no doubt about that.

He reached for the door handle, his palm sweaty, when a voice behind him froze him in his tracks.

“You don’t want to do that.”

Gator turned sharply, his pulse spiking, only to find Lu standing a few feet away, a plate of crackers and cheese in her hands. She was dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and shorts, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looked like she belonged anywhere but here, in Boyd’s cold and calculating domain.

“What the hell, Lu?” Gator hissed, his voice low. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, setting the plate down on a nearby table. “But I think I already know.”

Gator narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “I need to find something on him. Something I can use to protect Pearl.”

Lu sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “I get it. Trust me, I do. But you’re not gonna find it in there. At least, not without Boyd knowing.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his suspicion mingling with curiosity.

“Pearl told me years ago,” Lu said, her voice softening. “That office has motion sensor cameras. They’re on whenever he’s not in there, especially at night. You step inside, and he’ll know.”

Gator swore under his breath, stepping back from the door like it had burned him. “How do you know that?”

Lu’s expression darkened, her usual sharpness giving way to something more vulnerable. “Because Pearl and I have been through this before. She told me everything. About the cameras, about Boyd’s rules, about how he controls her even when he’s not here.”

Gator leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “She’s told you that much?”

Lu nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We’ve been best friends since boarding school in California. Spent every summer together at my family’s place in Oregon. She was like my sister. Still is.”

Her voice wavered slightly as she continued. “I’ve known about the bruises, the rules, the way he tracks her every move. For years, I’ve wanted to kill him for what he’s done to her. But I can’t, Gator. I can’t. And it eats me alive every damn day.”

Gator’s fists clenched at his sides, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re not the only one,” he muttered. “I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate him.”

Lu stepped closer, her gaze steady despite the emotion in her voice. “I know you love her, Gator. I see it every time you look at her. And I know you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. But this isn’t the way. Boyd’s not just some rich asshole with a temper. He’s dangerous. You have to be smart about this.”

Gator looked away, his jaw tight. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing, Lu. Not after what I’ve seen. What she’s told me.”

“I’m not saying you do nothing,” she said, her voice firm. “But you can’t play his game without knowing the rules. You have to think like him. Be two steps ahead. And that starts with keeping yourself out of his crosshairs.”

He sighed, the weight of her words sinking in. “So what do I do?”

Lu’s lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his question. “You stay close to Pearl. You protect her in the ways you can. And you let me help. I know more about Boyd than he probably realizes. Maybe together, we can figure out how to take him down.”

Gator looked at her, searching her face for any sign of hesitation. He found none. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Lu said, her voice tinged with determination. “I love Pearl like she’s my blood. I’d do anything for her. And if that means teaming up with you to take Boyd out of the picture, so be it.”

For the first time since the conversation began, Gator felt a flicker of hope. “Alright,” he said, his voice steady. “We’ll do this together.”

Lu nodded, a small, grim smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Damn right we will. But for now, get your ass back upstairs before Pearl wakes up and realizes you’re gone. The last thing she needs is another reason to worry.”

Gator hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Thanks, Lu.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

As Gator made his way back upstairs, his mind raced with possibilities. He didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t facing it alone.

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#gator tillman #kara writes #fargo s5 #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman smut #gator tillman arranged marriage #fargo s5 au #joe keery #gator and pearl #gator and pearlie #roy tillman #jon hamm #gator tillman fluff

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thecosmiccrow · 22 hours ago

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ok im boutta yap about something for a bit because i feel theres a lot of misunderstanding surrounding some of the stuff that i do, so i wanna talk about it and explain some reasoning

NOT nsfw but if you want to avoid the topic of casual / nonsexual nudity, thats what im talking about here. LOT of rambling about stuff that does not matter.

So like, of course I know Reddit, Twitter, Pinterest, and TikTok comments are a cesspool. They suck, and I know they do. However, despite that, I feel like people wayyyyy overreact to the kind of stuff I make / post.

The problem is, everyone sees it as sexual or scandalous or whatever. Just when I draw the robots without clothes. They have no genitals, technically nothing to hide, but people screech and shriek whenever I draw em like this.

For example:

(#4 is literally a scar reference so anyone getting mad over that is stupid, thankfully people were chill on the bottom two)

Peopl had a hissy fit over the first two pictures, the little comic I made. They got upset over the robots not wearing clothes.

And I’m sitting here like. What kind of puritan-ass sanitized view do these people have of the world.

Because I do this. I sleep without clothes (bc sensory issues) and will sometimes walk around my own home like that. Who the hell cares. It is literally just my body.

I think that because I’m so used to just casually seeing / experiencing it that I don’t find it as big of a deal as other people seem to. That’s why I include it in a decent amount of art, because I literally just see it as a part of life and not too big of a thing. People have bodies. Everyone does.

I have N and Uzi clothesless in the comic because they like sleeping like that, and feeling each other’s warmth and presence without the fabrics in the way. Nyx does it sometimes too, for sensory issues, like me, though a lot less commonly than I do. In that third picture, she’s upset and has shrugged her clothes off because she’s in a bad mental state and the feeling of them on her body is overstimulating for her. That fourth is a reference sheet, so I hope that doesn’t require much explanation.

There’s also the fact that I just like drawing their anatomy. I’ve spent enough time drawing drone bodies to become more accustomed to it than any other kind, and sometimes I get sad having to cover up nice anatomy. So I’ll just do a change of plans sometimes to be able to show off the anatomy that I actually like, which was especially the case for THIS:

this was originally just me drawing them in this reference pose, because I just wanted to draw cute Nuzi art and needed ideas. I liked the anatomy enough to just not draw them with clothes on, even if that was the original intention. Because I LIKE drawing their anatomy and I also like showing off their scars. They’re in a suggestive pose, I get it. From my POV though, it literally just looks like she’s about to lean in and kiss him. Scandalous.

anyways. i probably forgot a few things. stupid rant over, if you have questions i’ll try and answer em or whatever

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gothicxreylover · 1 day ago

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May I please request yandere hashiras poly with a fellow hashira s/o that distances themselves from the hashiras and they have CIPA

IM ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY KNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Unseen Chains

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Sorry for the wait I had this on hold for a while,I hope you enjoy! Also reader might be slightly mean towards the Hashiras.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The sound of splintering wood filled the air as your blade cut through the training dummy with practiced ease. Around you, the training grounds were silent except for the distant call of crows and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. You welcomed the stillness; it was easier to pretend no one was watching.

But they were. They always were.

“Impressive, as always,” came Kyojuro’s booming voice, his words tinged with his usual enthusiasm. But beneath the warmth, there was an edge—a darkness that simmered just out of sight. “However, you’re pushing yourself too hard again.”

You didn’t turn to face him as you wiped your blade clean. “I’m fine.” The words were clipped, routine at this point.

“No, you’re not,” Sanemi’s sharp voice interjected. The Wind Hashira stalked closer, his gaze raking over you, narrowing on the bloodstain on your haori. “You’re bleeding again. Do you even notice when you’re hurt?”

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, tossing your haori over your shoulders. “I can handle it.”

“That’s what you always say,” Mitsuri said, her voice trembling with emotion. She moved to block your path, her green and pink hair catching the sunlight as her wide eyes pleaded with you. “But it’s not true! You can’t just ignore your body like this. We’re here to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Your voice came out sharper than intended, but you didn’t back down. You were sick of this. Sick of their constant hovering, their suffocating concern.

“Oh, come on, don’t be so dull about it,” Tengen’s voice rang out from somewhere above. He leapt down from a nearby rooftop, landing with a theatrical flourish that would’ve been amusing if the situation weren’t so tense. “You’ve got seven people ready to throw themselves at your feet to make sure you’re okay. That’s flashy as hell if you ask me.”

“It’s not flashy,” you snapped, glaring at him. “It’s invasive.”

“Call it whatever you want,” Tengen said with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But you’ve got to admit, we’re not going anywhere.”

Your shoulders stiffened as you glanced around, realizing how they had surrounded you. Giyu lingered in the shadows, silent but watchful. Obanai stood near Mitsuri, his snake curling lazily around his neck as his sharp eyes tracked your every movement. Shinobu, as always, wore her unsettlingly calm smile, while Muichiro stood a little apart, his expression blank but his gaze locked on you. Gyomei towered behind them, his prayer beads clicking softly as if he were praying for patience—or strength.

“You think we’re just going to let you keep acting like this?” Sanemi growled, his voice low and threatening. “Like your life doesn’t matter?”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” you said coldly, taking a step back.

“But we’re giving it anyway,” Kyojuro said firmly, stepping closer. “You may not care about yourself, but we do. We can’t sit back and watch you destroy yourself.”

“It’s not your decision to make!” you shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m a Hashira, just like you. I don’t need anyone watching over me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Shinobu said, her voice as soft and sharp as a blade. “Your condition makes you vulnerable in ways you refuse to acknowledge. If you won’t take care of yourself, then we’ll do it for you.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” you yelled, finally snapping.

Tengen let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against a post. “You’re feisty. I like that. But let me clue you in on something.” His grin widened, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. “When it comes to you, we’ve already decided.”

“Decided what?” you asked, your stomach sinking.

“That you’re not leaving us,” Obanai said quietly. His voice was calm, but his tone left no room for argument.

“You’re part of us,” Mitsuri said, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached for your hand, her touch gentle but unyielding. “And we’re not going to let you go, no matter what.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Gyomei rumbled, his deep voice heavy with concern. “Your condition makes it difficult for you to understand the risks you take. That’s why we must protect you.”

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, stepping back only to feel the weight of their combined presence pressing in on you.

“Is it?” Giyu’s voice was quiet but firm. He stepped out of the shadows, his gaze locking onto yours. “You push us away, but we see what you’re doing to yourself. How can you expect us to stand by and do nothing?”

“I don’t need anyone—”

“You don’t have a choice in this,” Shinobu interrupted, her tone light but laced with steel.

“You’re ours now,” Tengen said, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr. “All of us. Whether you like it or not.”

The finality of his words sent a chill down your spine.

They weren’t bluffing. Their gazes, heavy with obsession and desperation, told you everything you needed to know. They had made up their minds.

And as the reality of your situation sank in, you realized that no amount of fighting or distance would change their resolve.

You were theirs.

And they would never let you go.

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nightlyrequiem · 2 days ago

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hiya requiem!!!!!

okay wait... im totally zooted rn so this mifht sound like wealy stupid.... but Valeria with writer!reader????!!! ^_^

like... reader is writing a dark novel... and they're like 'hey babe do you know how deep a knife needs to go before it hits a major artery and paralyzes sumone???' and val is like 'be rite back!!!' then an hour later she comes back home covered in a suspicious amount of red goo and shes like 'six inches. thats how deep' SHE CHEKCED!!!! AAAAAAAWWW!!!!!!! SO ROMANTIC RIGHT???!!!! (〃´▽`)

OKAAYYYY!!! soooh... it can be both hcs or a oneshot idm!!!! but i do want it to include either reader knowing vals occupatiom or they're just blissfully stupid clueless!!! 🥳🥳🥳

as always thank u foe ur time ans thanks soso much in advancies if u decide to write this!!! buhbye!!! :33

-🃏🌀⭐️

Hiya!! Omg I love this actually. Lowkey wish I had this IRL... but you're so right there's literally nothing more romantic then your wife stabbing a guy just so you can write about it accurately. True love right there. Just pretend you don't see the bloodstains and all will be good :3

Valeria x Author!Reader

You're working on your novel, and you're just stumped by the this one part. One of your characters gets stabbed but you want it to be accurate. But the internet is kind of useless. It either doesn't give you the information you're looking for, or it gives you that little hotline number.

But hey, your girlfriend was in the military and active combat!!! (Presuming you don't know what she does for a living.) So you ask her. Valeria loves you to pieces and also loves your writing. Of course she'll help you figure out how deep a knife has to go in order to paralyze someone. Just let her go ask some of her old war buddies, 'kay?

And by old war buddies, I mean victims. She already has an idea of where to hit in order to paralyze someone. Around the neck and spine. Each stab wound is measured meticulously and written down so she can bring them back to her precious partner. She finds the perfect reference for you. It was messy and a little hard to do, but stabbing someone under the ear in the neck where it begins to slope towards their shoulder. Roughly 3-4 inches down. The Common Carotid. (I googled it, so you probably could too, but for the sake of this let's pretend there's absolutely no information about it on the interwebs.)

Four corpses and three ruined shirts later, she's back with a sheet of references and even explains the process to you. Valeria is so kind as to even give you a physical demonstration. Not on a real person, she'd hate to frighten you. Though she didn't notice the splatter of blood on the bottom of her shirt. You did, and she had to find a valid reason as to why she had that. It's just jam, sweetheart, nothing to worry about.

Though things would be even easier if you knew about her current job. She'd probably let you sit in on interrogations to take notes or explain how certain mechanics work. It definitely wouldn't be practical or realistic because I'd imagine someone who runs a cartel would want to keep it under wraps. But anyway, she'd let you take notes and watch. If you're okay with it, she'd probably use a person for that physical demonstration.

Now your book has an accurate paralysis scene. Your readers praise you for your attention to detail and the realism. All thinks to your wonderful, murderous wife. Oh, those men that went missing were found with wounds similar to the ones in your book? What a coinky-dink!

#cod mw2 #valeria garza x reader #modern warefare ii #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza cod #valeria garza #cod mwii #cod x reader #valeria garza x you #cod

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k1mbe3rly · 2 days ago

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could you do a fic with a bimbo/bubbly ready, where thanos and nam-gyu are both trying to sleep with her (thinking it'll be easy) but all her focus is on min su or se mi (your pick - or both) and is super giggly and flirty with them (your choice is smut or not)

ouu yess, i started this Saturday morning so im not sure when this would get out cause i was lowkey thinking how i was gonna start ittt😭

Who do you pick? (maybe both👀)

no warnings, pairings: Se-mi, Min-su

i MIGHT do part 2 of this but smut, Se-mi or Min-su, or a threesome ⚠️LMKK⚠️

⚠️short!! sorry😢 i have a lot more ideas with smut 😓⚠️

You caught Thanos and Nam-gyu eye by honeslty just being yourself, you were trying to get by the games but still having a bubbly personality, helping everyone out, and talking to everyone, always smiling after the games or sometimes ever during them if one or two crack a jokes to make these death games less scary, unfortunately, Se-mi and Min-su caught your eye, so obviously you made your move a bit flirting here and there

While you were talking to the both of them you heard a voice, “Ay, señorita~”, you turned around in confusion seeing a purpled hair guy and another guy next to him, you fully turned your body to face them “How about you ditch these losers and come team with us? we’ll keep you nice and safe” he said smirking and eyeing you and down, “And maybe a bit of.. fun while we at it?” His friend chimed in, you chucked “Uh.. and yall are?” you said crossing your arms, “The LEGEND thanos. but for you, you can call me ‘daddy’” he said raising his eyebrows up and down “And this, this is my friend Nam-Su!” he said slapping his friend chest a bit “Dude…it’s Nam-Gyu.” he said staring at him and slight lung throwing his head back, “Nam-gyu, Nam-su, same shit” Thanos corrected, your stared blankly at them both

“So, what do you say baby girl? wanna come join us? maybe in bed.. or the bathrooms?” Nam gyu said nodding his head at you “Uh well maybe not.. soo sorry boys” you said smiling at them, “What? well fuck you slut!” Nam gyu quickly said as Thanos slapped his chest “Dude..i got this, i’m a great convincer” he said whispering to him, Nam gyu just nodded, “Cmon señorita~ it’ll be fun, i’ll even let you take control and anything you know what i’m saying?” thanos said “Between me and you, yea i feel the power, to me your my beauty flower” he said winking at you as he did some rap rhyme, you stared at him, looking back at min-su and se-mi you chuckled a bit, you turned back at them

“Sorry..not interested” you said lowly, “Ah shit.. let’s get out here” Thanos said as he basically dragged Nam gyu with him in embarrassment

You laughed a bit and finally faced your attention to Se-mi and Min-su “Wow, seems like you’ve got almost everyone wrapped around your finger huh?” Se-mi said sounding almost jealous, you shrugged “I mean i wouldn’t say that, besides it’s not like i’m interested in them” you simply said sitting on the stairs, “Yea? whys that?” She said back, “Just not my type, or they didn’t catch my eyes, either way, someone already catched my eye” you said back looking at Se-mi, making direct eye contact with her than looked towards Min-su winking at him as he let out a small gasp and looked away

You chuckled, “What? your into Min-su?” Se-mi said frowning a bit, “I didn’t say that directly. Many people could catch my eye you know” you said leaning into her and slightly rubbing her thigh a bit, she raised an eyebrow at you and smirked she hummed, “5 minutes until lights out” The speaker went off, you got up “Well..ima start heading to bed, let’s go Min-Su” you said motioning him, since yalls bed were next to eachother, Min- su quickly got up obediently and followed, you begin walking and looked back at se-mi and smirked.

#squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game smut #squid game x reader #nam gyu #squid game s2 #park min su #min su smut #min su x reader #min su squid game #player 125 #se mi squid game #se mi x reader #se mi #Se mi smut #player 380 #player 380 x reader #choi su bong #thanos squid game

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stylesonfilms · 7 hours ago

Text

ink & innocence - 22 *

word count: 8.1k

smutsmutsmut! this is me saying sorry for the wait 😞 ermm pls ignore any grammar issues im not readin allat!! 🗣️ (luv u guys)

Still snuggled into his side, Aspen took a content breath. Her heart happily fluttered in her chest as his words repeated themselves in her head. She couldn't believe she was loved by him, him of all people, and he always had a way of showing it to her. She only hoped she could give him that same satisfaction as well.

To her right, Harry was using his right hand to hold his sketch pencil, dabbling the granite over the sheet of paper in his notebook that was balanced on his knee. The girl took in the sight before her, how his tattoos grazed up his neck past his shirt collar and how his rings danced around his fingers in different directions (which she made a mental note of to twist back properly), how his nails were always painted a sheen black, never matte but somehow always chipped. She wondered if he'd ever try doing something like a topcoat.

Her brown eyes skimmed over his office, spotting the two ceramic pieces sitting on a shelf from their date, which was also when Aspen had asked Harry to be her boyfriend.

"You kept those?"

Aspen's voice was quiet, almost hesitant, as she tilted her head toward the shelf where their two ceramic pieces sat side by side. The soft afternoon light filtering through the window illuminated the edges of the figures—the small, imperfectly painted conversation heart she had made and the abstract, green and gold swirled mug Harry had crafted. Seeing them there, carefully placed amongst his things, made something in her chest tighten.

Harry followed her gaze, then let out a low chuckle, his pencil pausing against the sketchbook. "'Course I did," he said easily, as if the thought of getting rid of them had never crossed his mind. He glanced down at her, his arm tightening around her waist. "Why wouldn't I?"

Aspen shrugged slightly, ducking her head. "I don't know. I guess I just didn't think—"

"Didn't think I'd keep somethin' we made together?" Harry cut in, his voice teasing but warm. He turned his head and pressed a kiss into her hair. "Asp, I love what we made. I wanted to have it here, where I spend most of my time. Where I can look at it and be reminded of you."

Aspen's breath caught in her throat, and her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of his shirt. Reminded of her.

She didn't know why those words hit her so hard, but they did. It wasn't just about the ceramics—it was about everything.The way he drew her, the way he sang for her, the way he kept little pieces of her woven into his life. He loved her, and he made sure she knew it, not just in words but in all the little ways he held onto her presence.

She swallowed, trying to ignore the way her eyes burned slightly. "That's... really sweet," she whispered, almost shyly.

Harry hummed, smirking as he resumed the sketch in his lap. "I can be sweet," he murmured. "For you, anyway."

Aspen rolled her eyes at his playfulness, but she smiled, letting herself sink further into him. She watched as his pencil glided across the paper, forming soft, delicate strokes.

"What are you drawing?" she asked curiously, her head tilting to get a better look.

Harry hesitated for half a second, but then, with a small smirk, he tilted the notebook so she could see. Aspen's breath hitched when she realized what it was.

Her.

Her sitting just like this, curled into his side, her face tucked into his chest with that peaceful little expression she knew she had when she felt safe. The details were soft but unmistakable—the slope of her nose, the curve of her lashes, the way her hair spilled over his arm. It was just his side and his arm, a small section of the sofa where they sat, but he had captured her in a way that was exact, as if he took a photo and printed it onto the paper.

Aspen stared, lips parting slightly. "Harry..."

"I told you, sugar," he murmured, his voice softer now, more serious. "I like keepin' you with me. Even when you're not here."

Aspen's throat tightened, her chest swelling with something too big to name. She had no words—nothing that could possibly match the way this felt. Instead, she lifted her hand, fingers grazing over the lines of the sketch as if touching them would make it feel more real.

Harry watched her, his green eyes tracing every flicker of emotion that crossed her face. He wasn't always good with words—not when it came to things like this—but he could show her. He could give her proof of what she meant to him, of how much space she took up in his mind.

After a moment, Aspen turned to him, her brown eyes deep and searching. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this," she admitted softly. "The way you... see me."

Harry smiled, tilting his head slightly. "How's that?"

Aspen's cheeks warmed. "Like I'm something worth capturing."

His expression softened. He reached up, brushing his knuckles against her cheek before cupping the side of her face. "That's 'cause you are," he murmured. "Every damn time I look at you, I see somethin' I wanna keep."

Aspen sucked in a quiet breath, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, something unspoken passing between them.

Then, slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing his in the softest, most reverent kiss. Harry sighed into it, his fingers slipping into her hair as he deepened the kiss just slightly, savoring her. It wasn't heated, wasn't rushed—it was slow, warm, and full of something that settled deep in both of them.

When they pulled away, Aspen rested her forehead against his, her lips curling into a small, shy smile. "I love you," she whispered.

Harry grinned, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the tip of her nose. "I know, little mouse. I love you."

Aspen laughed softly, the warmth of his voice settling deep into her chest like a secret only she was meant to hear. The words lingered between them, wrapping around her heart, sinking in slowly. She still couldn't quite believe it sometimes—that someone like Harry, with his rough hands and soft heart, loved her.

Harry pulled her closer, tucking her against him like he never wanted to let go before leaning down to capture her lips in another sweet kiss. His lips moved slowly, tenderly, like he was savoring the moment, like he was trying to tell her things he couldn't put into words. Aspen sighed against his mouth, the familiar warmth of him sending tiny sparks through her veins.

"You know," Harry murmured against her lips, voice thick with affection, "I don't think I'll ever get over kissin' you."

Aspen blinked up at him, still caught in the haze of his touch. His gaze flickered between her eyes, down to her nose, then to her lips, before coming back up again, taking in every part of her like he was trying to memorize the way she looked beneath him. She tilted her head just slightly, her silent way of asking for more, and Harry smiled.

"I used to be... light on kisses," he admitted, his voice quieter now, as if he were confessing something important. "Never was my forte, but then you came along, and it was the only thing I could think about. Amongst other things, of course."

A slow, teasing smirk crept onto his lips, his tone laced with playful insinuation.

Aspen let out a breathy laugh, rolling her eyes even as heat crawled up her neck. Harry had a way of saying things—of looking at her—that made her feel entirely too flustered. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. "But I like kissing you, too."

Her voice came out in a shy squeak, and Harry lived for it.

"You've got the mouth of an angel," he mused, the corner of his lip twitching in amusement. "Quite literally. Guess that practice paid off, eh?"

Aspen's eyes widened as the realization of what he meant hit her like a freight train. "Harry!"

She smacked his arm lightly, but the damage was already done. His grin stretched wide, shameless and absolutely unrepentant.

"What?" He chuckled, rubbing his arm dramatically, though they both knew she hadn't hit him hard.

Aspen narrowed her eyes, her face practically burning now. "Says you!"

Harry quirked a brow, his teeth catching the metallic ring of his lip piercing, playing with it before releasing the jewelry again. He always did that when he was amused, when he knew he was getting under her skin in the best way possible. "Says me what?"

Aspen huffed, crossing her arms as if she could shield herself from his relentless teasing. "You've had multiple... practices before," she muttered, her tone shy but her eyes still locked onto his.

Harry let out a deep chuckle, one that rumbled through his chest and sent a pleasant shiver down Aspen's spine. He reached for his notebook, setting it aside with an easy motion before focusing all his attention on her.

"Maybe," he admitted, his voice dropping just enough to make her breath catch. "But none of them compare to you."

Aspen swallowed, her fingers curling into the hem of her shirt.

Harry leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he added, "Especially not the way you taste."

Aspen let out a tiny, involuntary squeak before promptly burying her face against his chest again, utterly defeated.

Harry threw his head back in laughter, his arms wrapping around her securely, holding her tight as she tried (and failed) to escape his teasing. "Ah, sugar, don't hide from me now," he mused, running his hand up and down her back.

Aspen groaned. "You're so..."

The man hummed in amusement, his hand carding through the soft strands of her hair. The cherry vanilla scent hit his nose through the motions. "I'm so what? So handsome?"

The girl only groaned again and kept her flaming face buried in Harry's chest. A soft rumble of laughter fell from his lips again as he shook his head. "Hey, don't get me wrong. I love that you practiced f'me."

When she didn't respond, and Harry could feel the warmth of her face through his shirt, he continued with a smirk.

"The thought 'f you even thinking of something like that does somethin' to me. But come to find out my sweet, little girl was on her knees and putting her sweet throat t'work jus' t'please me." Harry sighed, heavy with his accent. His tongue came out to run over his own lips before his fingers tucked under the girls chin, tilting her head up to look up at him. His thumb ran over her bottom lip as her face wore that deep red once more, yet she kept her eyes on his.

"And when you had actually got down to your knees in front of me? Fucking hell, Aspen..." He muttered, a slight furrow forming in his brows while the image flashed in his mind again. "You looked so lost down there, hm? Your small hands and these pretty lips," the mans thumb pushed passed the barrier of her parted lips, resting his pad of his thumb on her tongue, hooking her mouth open slightly more, "these pretty lips that could barely wrap around my cock."

Harry sucked his teeth slowly and sighed once more, his eyes ripping from her mouth to her eyes again. "Don't worry, hm? 'M going to make sure I train this gorgeous mouth of yours."

Aspen's eyes fluttered shyly, her cheeks hot as her breathing slowed and got heavier. With the words that spilled from his mouth, the girl's stomach couldn't help but coil in embarrassment but also satisfaction. She wanted that just as much as Harry.

She nodded hesitantly, closing her lips around the mans thumb. Aspen hollowed her cheeks around the digit as she kept her eyes locked on his green ones, now a glint of something deeper than his usual shine.

Her tongue pressed up against his thumb as she slowly and carefully moved it side to side. Her eyes grew shy, the burning desire to shut them or turn away, but she couldn't look away from Harry's parted lips and furrowed brows as he looked down at her in what seemed to be awe.

Harry slowly pulled his thumb out, her teeth grazing along. His thumb pulled down her bottom lip as he did so, his lips immediately pressing onto hers before his thumb could fully remove from her bottom lip. Aspen's hands came to rest on his chest as his large hands came to grip her hips, pulling her to a seat on his lap.

His tongue glided along the girls bottom lip, taking her parted lips as a quick invitation. A groan fell from his mouth and tumbled into hers. His head was swarming with everything Aspen. The man would have never expected her to be the way she was, expected her to shy away from his finger in her mouth or swat him away. His tongue ventured through her warmth, tangling along with her own as she let out a breathy whine against his lips.

Harry tilted her hips down with a firm grip as he shifted his hips under her. Aspen let out a small gasp as she felt the familiar bulge press up against her clothed clit before it disappeared just as fast as it came. Her hands slid up towards his broad shoulders and took ahold of the fabric there as she let out another sound against Harry's open mouth.

Harry’s breath was heavy, warm as it fanned against her cheek before he tilted his head and pressed his lips just beneath her jaw. The sharp inhale Aspen took didn’t go unnoticed by him, nor did the way her grip on his shirt tightened, fingers curling into the fabric as if she needed to ground herself. He liked that— liked knowing that he was the one making her feel this way, making her shiver beneath his touch.

His lips trailed lower, slow and deliberate, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. He lingered when he reached the delicate spot just beneath her ear, where he knew she was sensitive, and when he dragged his tongue lightly over her skin, she let out the sweetest little sound, barely more than a breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered against her skin, his voice gravelly, strained. He could already feel himself slipping, getting lost in the way she felt, the way she reacted to him like she was made for this, for him. His hands flexed at her hips, fingers pressing into the soft flesh as he guided her just how he wanted, feeling the way her body molded against his own.

Aspen whimpered as Harry kissed lower, his lips brushing against her collarbone before he nipped lightly at her skin, his teeth scraping just enough to make her tremble. “Harry...” she whispered, her voice breathy, filled with something between desperation and awe.

The sound of his name on her lips, so soft, so needy, sent a deep warmth curling in his stomach, and he knew he was toeing a dangerous line. He was getting too carried away, too caught up in the way she moved against him, in the way her fingers dug into his shoulders like she never wanted to let go.

And God, neither did he.

He swallowed between kisses, his hips pressing up against her for a longer moment, keeping her there. With furrowed brows and wet lips, he moaned against her sweet skin as she whined out above him, wiggling her hips a small bit as to tell him to keep it going. And truly, her wish was absolutely his command.

He continued to guide her hips in slow rolls to meet his, grazing his teeth along her neck between soft pants. Aspen, the way she squirmed above him and how his name came out between her gentle whimpers, drove him crazy.

The girl slid her hands from his gripped shirt to cup his jaw, pulling his face from her neck to look up at her. It was only for a second until his lips came crashing up to meet hers. He swallowed every little sound she made, though he knew her well enough to know she was aiming to keep herself quiet. His hips met hers in a particularly hard roll, his breath faltering in a gasp that matched hers.

"Let me hear you, pretty," He muttered against her lips before it was her turn to navigate down his jaw and to his neck. Harry groaned, his head falling back against the couch for a brief moment as he tried to rein himself in. His hands smoothed over her hips, slipping under the flowy material of her top while moving up the sides of her waist before settling at her lower back. She was so warm beneath his touch, so intoxicating.

To Harry's surprise, even without his hands guiding her hips, she continued the movements. And who was he to stop? The way she moved against him, he was sure he couldn't stop anyways. The way her warm thighs swarmed his lap and just the mere thought that she was getting off to this? He felt like a stupid teenager again, but he was pleased to be here with her.

Aspens hips faltered as she whined out a moan, a bit louder now, resting her head in the crook of Harry's neck. Her stomach coiled with need for Harry, for him to just touch her, but she couldn't stop the movements of her hips. If she did, she was sure she'd have to shoot herself from the loss of contact.

Even she couldn't believe what was happening. With every drag of his firm cock along her clit, the girl's panties bunched between her folds with ease. She gasped softly at the wet feeling pooling between her thighs, a red rushing over her cheeks. She lifted her head once more and latched her mouth in wet kisses over Harrys neck, which had his own head spinning.

Aspen's lips were soft, warm, and hesitant at first as they brushed against Harry's skin. She had never done this before—at least, not in the way she wanted to now. But she had seen it, knew the basics of what it was supposed to be, and she had the overwhelming urge to mark him, to leave something behind that said he's mine.

Her kisses trailed along the sharp line of his jaw, down the strong column of his throat, and she felt him swallow thickly beneath her lips. Harry’s breathing had gone uneven, his chest rising and falling with a little more force now as her mouth explored his neck.

"Shit, baby," Harry muttered, his voice rough, strained. His hands squeezed at her hips, fingers pressing into the fabric of her shorts, and Aspen felt a rush of pride at the way he reacted to her. He liked this. She was making him feel this way.

So, emboldened by the way his grip tightened on her, by the way his head tilted back to give her more access, she decided to take it a step further.

Aspen let her lips part against the warm skin of his throat, sucking lightly, testing the waters. She wasn’t sure how much pressure to apply, wasn’t sure if she was even doing it right, but when she grazed her teeth ever so slightly over the spot she had just sucked on, Harry let out the most guttural sound she had ever heard from him.

His hands clamped down on her hips, his fingers digging in as a deep groan rumbled from his chest. His reaction sent a thrill straight through her, and she felt something hot and needy coil in her stomach. That had worked. That had sent him spiraling.

"Jesus Christ, Aspen," he gritted out, his voice hoarse, wrecked. His head fell back against the couch, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips jerked up into her reflexively. Aspen whimpered, guiding her hips down once more.

She smirked against his skin, her chest swelling with a newfound confidence, and she did it again—this time, sucking just a little harder, letting her tongue swirl over the spot before nipping at it lightly.

Harry growled.

"You're gonna kill me," he muttered, his voice cracking slightly at the end. His ring clad fingers twitched at her sides, gripping and releasing as if he was trying to control himself, trying not to flip her over and take what she was so teasingly offering.

Aspen pulled back just enough to admire her work, her lips tingling from the effort. There, on the side of Harry’s neck, was a deep, blooming mark, proof of what she had done to him. She felt a flicker of satisfaction curl in her chest. She had done that. It was small, nothing too extreme, but the feeling of pride swelled her chest.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress her growing smile, but Harry caught the gleam in her eyes. His own gaze, dark and hooded, met hers as he smirked lazily, his hands shifting from her hips to slide up her back, holding her close.

"Proud of y'self, are you?" he murmured, his lips twitching.

Aspen shrugged, feigning innocence, though her cheeks were flushed and her heart was racing. "Maybe a little."

Harry let out a breathy chuckle, his fingers threading into the hair at the nape of her neck as he tugged her down just enough so their noses brushed. "You should be," he admitted. "That was fuckin’ cruel, baby. Doin’ me like that when I can't do a damn thing about it."

Aspen swallowed, her lips parting slightly as she realized exactly what he meant. He was still at work. They couldn’t do anything more right now.

But God, the way he was looking at her, the way his hands held her close like he was barely keeping himself together—it made her want to push him just a little further.

So she leaned in, her voice soft and teasing as she whispered, "Guess you'll just have to wait, then."

Harry groaned, letting his head fall back again, his hands sliding back up to her bare waist as he exhaled a shaky breath. "You're evil, you know that?"

Aspen giggled, pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw, feeling entirely too pleased with herself. "You love it."

Harry let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I do."

Harry’s grip on Aspen tightened as he let out a slow, controlled exhale. His girl—his sweet, shy Aspen—had just marked him, left a deep, dark bruise on his skin like a quiet claim of possession, and fuck if that didn’t send him spiraling. He had never seen this side of her before, at least, not fully. It was hesitant, still laced with that same softness that made her her, but there was a growing confidence in the way she moved, in the way she touched him, and he was absolutely, completely gone for it.

Not that he wouldn’t have loved her the same if she never changed at all. Harry was in too deep already, too consumed by everything she was. He would’ve happily spent the rest of his days kissing her through her shyness, easing her into his arms as she stumbled through her words, adoring the way she still blushed at his teasing. But this? This was something else entirely, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t love every second of watching her come undone like this—watching her bloom for him.

And if she thought she could get away with teasing him like that without consequence? Oh, she had another thing coming.

Harry smirked, tilting his head back up, his green eyes dark and full of something wicked as he met her gaze. “You think you’re so clever, huh?” he murmured, his voice deep and slow, dragging over her skin like a caress.

Aspen blinked at him, her lips still curved in the smallest, most innocent smirk, but he could see the way she swallowed, the way her breath hitched just slightly at the tone of his voice. Good.

Before she could respond, he moved. His hands slid up her back, gathering her closer, until his lips were hovering just over her ear. “My turn,” he whispered, his voice thick with promise.

Aspen barely had a second to react before his mouth was on her.

He didn’t go for the obvious spot—no, he had learned her far too well to be predictable. He aimed just below her ear, right against the pulse point where he knew she was most sensitive. The second his lips met her skin, Aspen gasped, her fingers clenching at the fabric of his shirt, her entire body shuddering in response.

Harry smirked against her, pleased with himself as he latched his lips around the delicate skin, sucking lightly at first, testing the waters, before he increased the pressure.

Aspen let out a shaky breath, her fingers sliding up to tangle into his curls. “H-Harry—”

“Mmm?” he hummed, not letting up, his tongue flicking against the mark he was making before his teeth grazed the spot ever so slightly.

Her breath hitched, and then—God above—she let out the softest, neediest whimper against his shoulder, and Harry damn near lost his mind.

He groaned, his grip on her hips flexing as he pulled her just a little tighter against him. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips dragging to a new spot, just a little lower, just to hear her make that sound again.

Aspen was melting against him now, her head tilting to give him more access, her breathing uneven as he worked at her skin. And he wasn’t holding back—if she was going to mark him, he was going to make damn sure everyone knew she was his. The spot under her ear was already darkening, but he sucked just a little harder, his tongue soothing over it before he pulled back, admiring his work.

The mark was bigger than the one she had left on him. That wasn’t even intentional—he had just gotten too carried away, too lost in the way she responded to him, the way she let him do this to her.

Aspen shuddered against him, her fingers still clinging to his shirt as she exhaled a trembling breath. And then, after a beat, he felt it—her smile.

"You’re smug, aren’t you?" she muttered, her voice breathless, but there was a small, proud lilt to it that had Harry grinning against her skin.

"Damn right, I am." He pressed a final, lingering kiss to the mark before pulling back to look at her. “Look at you,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as he took in her flushed cheeks, the way her lips were slightly parted, swollen from their earlier kisses. “My sweet girl’s not so sweet anymore, huh?”

Aspen huffed out a small laugh, but she ducked her head, still shy despite everything, which only made Harry’s heart throb harder in his chest. He loved that about her—how she could switch between this confident, teasing version of herself and the soft, timid girl he had fallen for. She was both, and he adored every side of her.

“I… I liked that,” she admitted quietly, still playing with the hem of his shirt, not quite meeting his eyes.

Harry felt something warm and achingly fond settle deep in his chest. He tilted her chin up with his knuckle, waiting until her brown eyes met his. "Yeah?" he murmured, his voice softer now.

She nodded, still bashful. "Mhm."

Harry smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips, slow and tender. "Good," he whispered against her mouth. "Because I’ll be doin’ that a lot more from now on."

Their mouths met again, urgency laced in every touch as Harry’s hands roamed her body, mapping out every curve as if he hadn’t already committed her to memory. His fingers trailed down her sides, brushing over the thin fabric of her top before gripping onto her waist, steadying her as she shifted against him. A low groan rumbled from his chest at the feeling, the soft, deliberate roll of her hips against his cock making it nearly impossible to think straight.

Aspen’s fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging ever so slightly as she deepened their kiss. The reaction it pulled from Harry sent a thrill down her spine. She was beginning to realize just how much power she had over him, and that knowledge sent a rush of warmth through her. He had always been the one in control, always the one guiding her, teasing her, unraveling her—but now, she could feel the way he was unraveling beneath her, just from her touch.

Harry’s lips trailed down her jaw, slow and deliberate, before finding the sensitive skin just behind her ear. He pressed a lingering kiss there, his breath warm against her skin before his mouth traveled lower, just beneath her pulse point. His lips parted, his tongue flicking out before he sucked lightly at the delicate spot.

Aspen gasped, her nails biting into his shoulders as her body instinctively melted into his. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt—hot, dizzying, intoxicating. A soft whimper escaped her lips when she felt him smirk against her skin.

"That’s better," Harry murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he pulled back slightly to admire the mark he’d left behind. It was hidden, just beneath her ear, but it was there. His.

His fingers traced over it gently before his hands wandered lower, gripping at her thighs. One of his hands slid inward, his fingers pressing into the soft skin of her inner thigh, dangerously close to where she ached for him most. He squeezed gently, teasing, reveling in the way her breath hitched, the way her body tensed with anticipation.

"Can I touch you, love?" His voice was hoarse, thick with need as his fingers danced just shy of where she wanted him. He didn’t push—he would never push—but the question was there, hanging between them, heavy and full of promise.

Aspen swallowed thickly, her lips parting slightly as she tried to steady her breathing. She had never felt this kind of anticipation before, never known what it was like to want something so badly and feel it just within reach.

Her heart pounded as she looked at him, as she took in the warmth in his green eyes, the way he was holding himself back, waiting—always waiting—for her. The care he had for her, the patience, the devotion, it was enough to send her head spinning.

Still catching her breath, she nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes."

Harry’s lips curved into a slow, pleased smile.

"Good girl," he murmured before pressing another searing kiss to her lips.

Harry hummed in satisfaction at her breathy response, his lips pressing once more to the tender skin beneath her ear before he let his fingers resume their slow, torturous exploration. He didn’t rush—not yet. He wanted to savor this, to let Aspen feel every bit of what he was doing to her without ever truly giving in just yet.

His palm smoothed over the inside of her thigh, warm and firm, fingers pressing lightly into the soft flesh before giving a slow, deliberate squeeze. Aspen shivered, her body reacting instinctively to his touch. Her hands tightened in the fabric of his shirt, a quiet whimper escaping her lips as he did it again—squeezing, then releasing, then squeezing just a bit higher, inching closer to where she needed him most.

Her head tipped back slightly, her lips parting as she sucked in a slow breath, but before she could even fully exhale, Harry’s fingers traced up, skimming along the crease of her thigh.

Aspen’s entire body tensed, her stomach clenching with need as his fingers flirted with the edge of her underwear through her thin shorts, barely grazing the sensitive skin beneath. She let out a soft, shaky moan, and that sound alone was nearly enough to undo him.

Harry groaned lowly, his free hand gripping onto her hip to keep her still as she instinctively shifted forward, silently begging for more. "Easy, love," he murmured, pressing a kiss just below her jaw, his lips curling against her skin. "We’ve got all the time in the world."

Aspen let out a frustrated whimper, her fingers tightening against his shoulders as he continued his agonizing pace—fingertips trailing, teasing, dipping between the soft skin of her thighs but never quite touching where she ached for him.

"You’re so sensitive," he mused, his voice deep and laced with amusement. His fingers ghosted over her one more time, and when she let out another needy sound, he chuckled softly. "So needy, aren’t you?"

Aspen bit her lip, hiding her face against his neck in embarrassment. She didn’t know how he could reduce her to this with such minimal touches, but she knew it wasn’t fair. He was enjoying this—he was reveling in her reactions, in the way she melted into him, in the way she chased after his touch like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

His hands traveled lower again, massaging the backs of her thighs before coming around to her ass, kneading the soft flesh there with a firm grip before sliding forward again, fingers dipping teasingly over the thin fabric of her shorts.

Aspen let out a gasp, her hips bucking slightly at the sensation, only for Harry to pull back at the last second.

A whine of protest left her lips, and Harry grinned against her shoulder, clearly pleased with himself.

"Patience, angel," he murmured, dragging his lips back up to her mouth, capturing her in another slow, languid kiss. "You’re makin’ the prettiest sounds for me already, yeah?"

Aspen huffed softly, knowing full well he was taking his time on purpose, that he was enjoying this as much as she was suffering from it.

"You’re mean," she whispered against his lips, her voice a breathy little thing.

Harry only smirked, his hand slowly traveling back up her thigh, tracing the same path as before. "Oh, sweetheart," he rasped, fingers pressing firmly into the soft crease of her thigh once more. "You’ve no idea."

His fingers danced their way back to where she needed it most, over her clit. This time, however, he didn't pull back. He pressed his fingers up against her, in slow circles at first as he kept his eyes on her expression.

The mans fingers slid down to press over her entrance, the gentle give of squish giving away how wet she way. A satisfied smirk crawled over his lips. "All f'me, huh?"

The girl let out a breathy moan with a nod, swallowing around air as she rolled her hips down against his fingers while they pressed and slid back over her clit. He worked his hand with ease to match her needy pace, his gaze dropping down to where he touched her and flickered back up to her expression of need.

Harry's cock throbbed under the material of his jeans. It didn't go unnoticed, twitching against Aspen's thigh which made her lips fall open in another moan. As her eyes closed, the image of his cock, heavy and thick, resting in her hand and on her tongue filled her mind. She'd do anything to have him in her mouth once more.

The newfound feeling coiled in her stomach. She sucked in a breath and let it out in a needy whimper, her hands resting on the curve of his neck now with her thumbs pressing into his warm flesh as she ground her hips down to meet the feeling of his fingers. Her hole fluttered around the open air, desperate for his thick fingers to slide into her like they did before and draw out another orgasm.

Harry could tell she was close, that she needed that final push. Her breathing became more shallow and her moans became higher in pitch, her eyes closed and her head pushed back. His eyes gleamed over the mark he left which made his cock twitch once more.

And just as she thought he might finally give in—just as her breath caught in her throat in anticipation—he pulled back again, leaning away slightly as his hands came to rest innocently on her waist.

Aspen groaned in frustration, her head dropping to his shoulder as her whole body trembled from the teasing. "Harry," she whined, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt in protest.

Harry chuckled, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her temple. "That’s enough for now, little mouse," he murmured, his voice teasing but firm. "Don’t wanna start something I can’t finish, yeah?"

Aspen pouted, peeking up at him through her lashes, but she knew he was right. The last thing they needed was to get carried away in his office when anyone could come knocking.

Still, the fire in her veins refused to die down, and the way he looked at her—eyes dark with something she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen in them before—made it clear that this was far from over.

"Please?," she mumbled under her breath. Her thumbs ran small circles into the skin on his neck, her nail catching skin lightly which made him groan softly, nodding.

With fumbling and quick hands that moved in need and desperation, his fingers slid under the band of her shorts and quickly met with the warmth of her clit. Even over her underwear, which she completely soaked through, Harry could feel the pulse of her clit against his fingers.

He wasted no time in drawing circles over the sensitive bud. Her lips parted and a broken moan, louder than the others, fell from her lips. The sound shot down to Harry's dick, which he took one of her hands and placed it over. He gave an encouraging squeeze, guiding her hand to move to the pace of his.

Aspen's hand merely covered the outline of his cock. Dizziness filled her head as she swiped her thumb over where his tip would be, with more pressure than she would've used if he was bare. Harry dropped his head onto her shoulder with a groan, his fingers busily working over her clit. They peeled back her panties, tucking them into the curve of her thigh, before his middle finger ran through her slick folds.

"Fuck," he muttered into her skin, collecting her arousal on both of his fingers now before dragging it back up to her clit. The feeling sent a shudder down her spine, eliciting another sweet moan of his name.

"One day," Harry grunted, his hand still guiding hers as he swirled his fingers over her clit with ease, a sense of professionalism, before dipping down between her folds, "I'm going to fill you up with my cock, so, so good." He licked his lips and pushed his middle finger past the woman's tight entrance.

Aspen arched into the feeling with a gasp, his words sending both a raging blush to her cheeks and a pleasant coil to her stomach.

"I don't know if I'd be able to stop," Harry moaned into her shoulder at a particular squeeze, pumping his finger slowly. Deciding she was wet enough, practically pooling in his palm, he pushed another finger in alongside.

The girl whimpered at the burning stretch but quickly found comfort when he began to move his fingers.

"Hell, I don't even know if I'd be able to start. You're so fuckin' tight," he grunted once more, guiding his fingers at a pleasing pace. Her thighs quivered every few seconds from the feeling and she couldn't stop the flow of moans and whimpers from her mouth anymore. She raised her free hand to cover her mouth with the back of it as her brows furrowed, his fingers curling inside her now.

Aspen's back arched as she ground her hips down to push his fingers deeper into her. Harry raised his head from its place on her shoulder, his own look of awe on his face as he beamed up at her.

"Don't do that," Harry grumbled, using his nose to nudge her hand off her face. "This is my fucking shop, and if I want to have my girl— to touch my girl— I'll do jus' that," he growled out, lips latching wet kisses back onto her neck.

"Oh, God," she quivered, her hips jerking as her stomach coiled. She felt like a stupid virgin, and technically, she was. Her orgasm grew closer with each word he muttered. The gruff edge of his voice only added to the feeling, shooting through her and straight to her core. She did her best to work her hand over Harry's twitching cock still in his pants.

Harry only chuckled, fading into a small groan. "Shit—," He gasped, his abdomen tightening as he felt his own orgasm creeping up.

"My innocent little virgin, huh? Need to come already?" Harry swallowed the groan in his throat as she let out a moan of her own, her eyes finally opening to meet his. And fuck, she looked a mess. She clenched around his fingers and nodded desperately.

"Please, please, please," She gasped in her small voice and trailed off in another moan, dropping her head back once more as the movement in her hips grew sloppy. Harry was right behind her with his movements, his hips after chasing its own high in her hand.

With last minute thinking, Aspen reached both hands to the mans belt, undoing it with clinks and slips of leather to unbutton and unzip the material before reaching to tug his cock out.

She whined softly, pleased now that the weight of his cock was finally in her hand. She licked her lips as she stared at how she couldn't even wrap her own hand around it fully, her thumb gliding over his glistening tip.

A dribble of spit left her red lips as she tilted her head down and looked up at him, her gaze broken when he curled his fingers in a way that had her fall into his chest slightly. Harry, with surprised eyes and a racing mind, couldn't help but let out another guttural moan at the sight.

Fuck.

The girls hand slid over the slick spit, rubbing it all over his heavy shaft to the pace of his fingers. "Please, H..." She whimpered, thumbing over his slit as she ground her hips into his fingers messily again, clenching around his thick fingers once more. She wasn't sure what she was begging for, for his come or for her to come, but she needed both.

"Please, Daddy?"

Harry groaned, his fingers pressing impossibly further into her as his jaw fell slack, nodding. Where the fuck was this side of her coming from?

"Come for me, baby. All over m'hand, get Daddy's hand all messy."

His words shot straight to her pussy. She clenched around his fingers sloppily while shifting her hips until it finally hit her. Aspen cried out a moan of Harry's name, her thumb sliding over his tip once more before stuttering in its motions.

Harry came right after her. The feeling of her flooding around his fingers, her thighs buzzing, chest rising and falling, her words, he was bound to lose it. His come, hot and loaded, spurted over the girl's small fist, groaning strings of curses and her name thrown in the mix, as well as praises.

Harry's free hand came to snake up the back of her neck and card between the strands of her hair as he brought her head down to capture her lips in another kiss. He swallowed every moan and whimper of hers, returning some of his own with his fingers pumping and curling through her orgasm while his thumb slowed their circles on her clit. When she whimpered and her hips started to shy away, he carefully slowed his fingers and slid them out in a way they didn't get her messy.

When they pulled away for a breath, he licked over his lips and swallowed, falling back against the sofa cushions as he looked up at her, his hand leaving her hair to rest on her thigh. He caressed up and down in soothing motions, catching his own breath while she caught her own.

Without any hesitation, Harry raised his two fingers to his lips, resting them on his tongue and wrapping his lips around them with a smirk. Aspen looked down at him with her doe eyes and flushes cheeks, lips parted as she drew in breaths. She watched his hand meet his mouth intently and a thought flickered in her mind.

Mimicking his motions, she lifted her hand carefully from his cock to her lips. Before she could pull her tongue out and lick her hand clean, Harry's hand caught her wrist.

"Don't."

Aspen tilted her head, feeling herself flutter and clench around the open air. His eyes still carried that same dark tone, his curls falling over his forehead and his lip ring. Fuck, his lip ring.

"I can't see you do that. 'm not gonna be able to control myself, Asp."

His voice came off with a warning edge. Aspen only huffed softly and pulled her wrist from his gentle grasp, raising her palm back to her mouth. She kept her eyes on his as her hand slowly inched forward, her tongue poking out to lick up some of his mess on her hand. With a content hum, she took her bottom lip between her teeth as she bit back a teasing smile. Aspen leaned forward, her other hand on his shoulder and sliding down to his chest as she took another small taste.

"Then don't."

Just as Harry let out a low, nearly desperate groan at Aspen’s teasing, a sudden knock sounded against the door, making them both freeze.

"Oi, mate," Niall's voice rang through the wood, laced with amusement. "Hate to break up whatever moment you two are havin’ in there, but Justin is here, your client."

Aspen's eyes widened in mortification, her entire body tensing against Harry’s. Her face burned as she let out a soft, embarrassed squeak, immediately burying her face against his shoulder.

Harry, on the other hand, exhaled a frustrated breath through his nose, his fingers pressing firmly into Aspen’s waist as he closed his eyes for a second, clearly trying to gather himself. He knew they were cutting it close, but he really hadn’t wanted this moment to end just yet.

"Yeah, yeah, be out in a sec," he finally called back, his voice slightly hoarse from restraint.

A low chuckle sounded from the other side of the door before Niall's footsteps retreated down the hall, but not before calling back something about how he at least let them get one round in.

Aspen groaned softly, still hiding her face against him. "That was so embarrassing," she muttered, her voice muffled against his skin.

Harry huffed out a laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head before tilting her chin up so he could look at her. His eyes softened instantly at her flustered expression, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

"Could’ve been worse," he teased, trailing his fingers along her side before reluctantly shifting beneath her.

Aspen let out a little huff as she sat back, her hands clutching at his shirt as she watched him fix himself—pulling his pants back up properly and adjusting his belt. He worked quickly, but before he stood, he leaned forward, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to her forehead.

"You should go freshen up, yeah?" he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as his thumb brushed the soft skin of her cheek. "Bathroom’s just around the hall. I'd do it myself, work my magic with my mouth," he grinned, licking his lips, "but Justin is waiting f'me. You'll be okay, yeah? Stick around after, too. In here or out there, I'll take y'home."

Aspen nodded, still feeling flustered but completely wrapped up in the way he looked at her—soft, affectionate, like she was the only thing that mattered in this moment.

She reached up, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth before sliding off his lap, smoothing down her clothes as best as she could.

Harry smirked as he watched her, his head tilting slightly. "You’re cute when you’re all shy like that, y’know?"

Aspen shot him a playful glare before rolling her eyes. "Shut up," she muttered, though her lips twitched at the corners as she turned for the door.

Before she could open it, Harry caught her wrist, tugging her back for one more kiss—a slow, lingering press of his lips against hers.

"Go on, little mouse," he murmured against her mouth. "I’ll see you in a bit."

Aspen exhaled softly, nodding before slipping out of the office, her heart still racing in her chest as she made her way down the hall.

And as Harry watched her go, he couldn’t help but grin to himself, already counting down the minutes until he could have her all to himself again.

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