#jennings fucked around and found out

[duskstargazer]

[1922]

Stanley growled as, with a sickeningly familiar clang and crunch, he ground to a halt, spitting and cursing as his wheels abandoned the rails in favor of the ballast and sleepers below.

His driver sighed. “I’ll go phone for help. Edie, you deal with the fire.”

“Damn it.” The Pannier tank engine grumbled.

“Somehow, Stanley,” the fireman groaned, “I think all three of us just lost our jobs.”

“Some things never change, huh?”

Stanley looked over. A filthy, dusty blue boiler stood in a shack adjacent to the engine shed. Cobwebs and soot coated what once was a footplate, and steam leaked out in nearly every possible direction.

“This railway’s pisspoor management claims another.”

“Whaddya mean? And how’d ya get in there?”

“Not willingly,” the husk of steaming scrap iron grunted, dryly. “While you’re waiting for your rescue, I should probably fill you in. Then maybe you won’t end up like No.2.”

“But… I’m number 2.”

“Exactly. Jennings,” she continued, “was a showoff…”

[minijenn]

@ that one anon who asked a while back if I had a preview of the Attack the Light promo, finally, I fucking do

[child-of-the-danube]

Agatha All Along in general but especially Agatha and Rio are so fucking special to me and I cannot be normal about this...

We are finally not being queer-baited. Whether they seal it with a kiss or a flashback scene or a happy ending it doesn't matter. We have confirmation that those two women were and still are deeply in love.

It's two mature women. No weird age gap, no mentor-pupil dynamic, no disproportionate power play. I find coming out and setting into your queerness stories incredibly important but it is so refreshing to see a story where the discovery and accepting that you're queer isn't the focal point. They just are who they are and neither them nor the people around them had a big dramatic reaction to it like it's something strange or unexpected. They just ARE and my god is that beautiful to witness ❤️

Their softness, connection and care for eachother is so heartbreaking. Agatha smiling and leaning into Rio when talking about her scar cause Rio already knows, Agatha melting just by having her hair played with, Rio refusing the kiss cause that would be taking advantage of Agatha's weak moment, making sure she knows that Teen isn't her son, Rio regretting what she had to do for centuries. I am losing my mind over here

The whole cast is mature women (well, + Joe haha) which again, refreshing as hell to see. And I love how the focus isn't just completely on Agatha. We get constant glimpses into everyone. Jen saved the day twice already. Alice had her beautiful moment in e4, Teen is basically their spirit guide with his spell book. Adore that lil funky boy Agatha technically kidnapped but whom she very obviously cares for more than she would like to. Lilia is my favourite of this new found coven family. Her and Agatha are the oldest and have seen the most and suffered through so much. I think that's why she softened up to Agatha and vice versa. Beside Teen, Agatha seems to be the softest towards Lilia like when she had her hallucinations and she didn't mock her but reassured her it's ok and Lilia's constant blurting out of prophecies like "Protect Agatha" 😭😭. I could go on for ages about all of their dynamics.

And everything about the production and the actors themselves being SOOO invested into the story and clearly loving what they do.

I don't give a shit about Marvel in general but damn, they got me with this one. Canonically gay witches, Kathryn Hahn and Aubrey Plaza, musical numbers and then they throw in miss icon legend mother Patti Lupone on top of it all. I am in every possible way the target audience

The talk about how witches, monsters and in general creatures feared by the wider population are so very deeply queer coded is for another day but AAAAAAAAAAA I love everything about this show so much I might just explode

[nerdlvr]

pt.1

.

nerd!jeno didn't think anything could be better than fucking you. well he was wrong. now he thinks nothing could be better than the taste of your sopping cunt.

he was hesitant at first, he'd never done something like this before. but as his face neared your core, skin warm as he wrapped his arms under your thighs, he thought he had seen heaven.

your breath was heavy as you stared down at him, your lip between your teeth as he gently stuck his tongue past your folds, getting a feel for your taste. he let out a moan as the first drops of you landed on his tongue, the sweetest candy he's ever tasted. the vibration made you sink back into the pillows, fingers gripping onto the sheets. jeno sunk into your core, nose gently prodding at your clit as he lapped at your wet hole, desperate for your juices.

"oh my- jen baby, fuck, feels good, right there."

your hands abandoned the sheets moving to grip at the strands of jeno's hair. he hummed into your core, not listening to a word you were saying. it was just him and your pussy, nothing else mattered. he moved his mouth up to latch onto your clit suckling gently as he brought his fingers towards your entrance, sliding two in gently. you moaned at the feeling thighs coming together to close around his face. he backed away from your core, removing his fingers from inside you to push your thighs apart.

"don't move, you're gonna break my glasses."

he straightened his glasses on his face before diving right back in, tongue lapping at your clit and his fingers deep inside of you. you swallowed down a moan hands quickly coming down to hold your knees apart. one thing jeno didn't play about was his glasses. you watched as he continued his ministrations on your core, glasses fogged up and pushe uncomfortably against his nose as he pressed his mouth deeper into you. he let out a groan,

"i can't, i can't fucking see you with these on."

he took his glasses off, throwing them somewhere on the floor and he focused back on your cunt.

"hm, still looks so pretty even when it's blurry."

you giggled at his comment calling him an idiot before gently shoving him back down onto your core. he happily complied lips latching onto your clit, his tongue swirling around the bud. his fingers slowly slid into you, this time remaining knuckle deep. he dragged the pads of his fingers along your walls, looking for that one spot. you let out a loud moan as he finally found it, a grin on his face at your reaction.

he stuck to that spot fingers prodding and rubbing at it as he focused his tongue back onto your clit, pressing on it gently. your back arched off the bed, legs coming together to close around his head as you felt your orgasm wash over you, strings of jeno's name leaving your mouth as you screwed your eyes shut. you pushed his head back as he kept sucking on your clit, overstimulation taking over your body.

"jen, jen, that's enough baby, too much."

he moved back to look up at you, cheeks flushed, his lips and nose wet with your juices. his eyes slightly squinted as he tried to focus on you, vision blurred by his lack of glasses.

"if you think about it this is a real safety hazard. tasted so good i almost forgot to breathe."

you giggled as he got up to hover over you, face now inches away from your,

"finally i can see you, my pretty girl."

note to self : nerdy guys are the best in bed.

[wosospacegirl]

Matching stitches - Grace Clinton

Summary: Y/n can handle tough tackles and intense matches—but stitches? Absolutely not. After a head collision mid-match, the last person she expects to help her through it is Grace —her opponent.

Warnings: mentions of blood; hurt comfort; just a meet cute overall with a lot of found family and accidentally liking old pictures on ig hehe

Word count: 7k

MASTERLIST

..

The game was heated.

1-1 and both teams wanted to win.

Y/n didn’t see it coming.

She was close to the Manchester United goal, ready to assist either Alessia or Foxy. Leah had played a long ball to Y/n, who jumped as the ball got closer, ready to receive it.

As the ball came closer, Y/n felt the impact of a body against her, knocking her to the ground. She felt something sharp open her inner lip and hit her forehead.

She fell on the pitch, her back hitting the grass painfully. For a moment she couldn't breathe, her lungs aching from the impact.

“Fuck,” Y/n muttered.

The crowd fell silent.

Y/n could smell grass, blood and sweat. It was a mixture of smells that Y/n was used to, but at the moment it reeked.

Her whole body ached as if a knife were slicing through her lips and forehead. She tried to move her head, but that hurt too. She could not see who crushed her.

The Arsenal players came running as soon as Y/n’s hit the ground. A mix of familiar voices reached Y/n’s ear. They were all talking at the same time, but it was as if they made no sense, it was just a blend of words being thrown around.

“She’s fucking bleeding!” Y/n heard Leah’s voice. “Stop the game! Call someone!”

The referee hadn’t blown the whistle yet. Maybe they should because Y/n was not going to get up anytime soon.

Y/n felt lightheaded like she was going to pass out any time soon. She wanted to stay there on the pitch, the grass hugging her, even though it irritated her skin.

Okay maybe her brain wasn’t getting all the oxygen it needed. She felt dazed.

“There’s been a head clash here! Where are the bloody medics?”

Someone said Y/n wasn’t sure if it was Kim or Katie, maybe it was Jen. Oh no, Jen had retired a couple of seasons ago, hadn’t she? Wow, they really needed to get someone to help her out.

Her teammates, whether retired or not, sounded worried. Was it bad, maybe her injury was worse than she thought it was.

Y/n felt like she was dying, but her teammates usually just called her dramatic when she was tackled in a game.

Was she being dramatic right now?

She wasn’t sure. But she was tired though. And it hurt.

She wanted to rest. Maybe she should do that.

“No, don’t. Keep your eyes open,” Y/n felt the warmth of a hand holding hers, “They’re going to take you to the infirmary, okay?”

“Damn, she’s out.”

Was the last thing Y/n heard before everything went black.

..

“Y/n?”

Y/n forced herself to breathe. The air went in and out of her lungs, and her back didn’t hurt anymore, just the slight discomfort of being tackled and lying down on a hard surface.

Was she in a hospital? The bed she was in felt like a hospital bed. It was uncomfortable.

“Y/n, you need to open your eyes, I know you are awake,” the voice said again. It wasn’t familiar to Y/n, but it seemed to belong to an older woman.

Y/n tried to do what the woman asked her. She carefully opened one eye and then the other, but the lights in the room were too bright. She decided to close them.

Y/n didn’t remember exactly what happened. She was on the field playing, then someone crashed into her, and then she was out. She had a faint memory of Leah’s voice saying something to her as she was being carried off the pitch on a stretcher.

The first shock of pain hit her.

Y/n whimpered, bringing her hand to her lip and then to her forehead. Both places were wet and tender. Two very fresh bruises.

Medicine. Why hadn’t they given her some painkillers? If she was in a hospital, it must have been a bad one because she was in pain, her mouth tasted like iron.

Y/n tried to open her eyes again, the light was not as intense as before. She removed her hands from her face and looked at them, they were red.

Blood, fresh blood. She had been hurt and it hadn’t been long ago.

Why did it feel like days?

“Don’t look at it,” the older woman said, taking Y/n’s hands and cleaning them with a tissue.

“What hospital am I in?,” Y/n asked the woman.

“We're in the infirmary, the stadium’s infirmary,” another voice said beside Y/n. The voice was calm, not as energetic as the other women’s, and it was younger.

It was probably the person who had bumped into Y/n.

She was so disoriented that she hadn’t even noticed that someone else had been hurt as well. But if the pain on her face was any indication of how hard they had bumped into each other, the other player was probably in bad shape too.

She tried to turn her head around, but it hurt too much, so she just kept staring at the person in front of her.

Nurse Mary, the badge said. She had a kind, round face.

“Are you all right?” The younger voice said again.

Y/n tried to remember who the voice belonged to. She was being marked by Gabby George and Millie. T seconds before she was hit, but they were in front of her and the collision was caused by someone running to her side. So Y/n didn't see who it was.

Y/n turned her head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl, but the movement was too fast and nausea hit her stomach.

“Mary, I'm gonna throw up,” Y/n warned the nurse.

A few seconds later there was a bucket right next to her.

Y/n emptied her stomach. The vomit was mixed with blood from her new injuries and she just wanted to go home, put an ice pack on her face and pretend this day never happened, especially after throwing up in front of two strangers.

Nurse Mary patted Y/n’s back maternally. “It's okay, honey. You’ve got a concussion, it's normal to feel nauseous. Miss Grace here also had a concussion.”

Grace? Grace Clinton?

Great, she had puked in front of Grace Clinton. Not embarrassing at all.

Y/n had the vaguest recollection of seeing Grace in the tunnel as they walked to the pitch. She had her hair in a low bun and her shirt looked a size too big for her.

Grace was a midfielder for Man United, she was very young but very skilled. Y/n had never had the chance to talk to her before, but Leah had told her once that Grace was very calm on the pitch and that she should mark her, but not be too aggressive about it, as Grace herself had a chill style of play.

“You bumped heads during the game,” Mary continued. “It wasn’t too bad, so there was no need for an ambulance.”

Y/n felt like she had been hit by a whole bus, not just bumped heads. Clinton was strong, so it made sense that she was in so much pain from the collision.

“–But you Y/n got the worst of it, Grace’s teeth bit your inner lip open when you both fell,” Mary added.

Grace's teeth?

That explained why she felt like her lips were split open.

When Y/n opened her mouth to ask Grace if she was all right, a wet, cold cloth was pressed into her face.

“Ouch! Fuck, it hurts,” Y/n said angrily, but regret quickly struck her. She shouldn't be yelling at Mary.

“I-'m sorry, it just…”

“Hurts?” Mary finished the sentence for her.

“Yeah,” Y/n mumbled, accepting the cloth to her face, the coldness of it helping with the burning sensation and easing her pain. She stayed with the cloth for a few seconds before Mary took it away from her.

“You two sit nice and still, okay?” Mary said. “I need to get some supplies in the other room, but I’ll be back.”

“I’ll talk to your teammates, too, Y/n,” she said, turning to Y/n now. “They were quite a bit worried about you, especially the skipper.”

Before Y/n could reply Mary left.

She and Grace were alone in the small room, the smell of antiseptic and disinfectant filling Y/n’s nose. She hated it.

Y/n slowly sat up on the bed and finally looked at Grace, who was sitting on the bed next to her.

Her back was propped up against two pillows, she was still wearing her Manchester kit, stained with dirt and blood. Her hair was down around her shoulders, a few leaves of grass lying in between the strings.

Should Y/n tell her about the grass? Well, given Y/n’s situation, she wasn’t really in a position to judge. She hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but she knew she was a mess.

Grace had a very soft, baby-like face, with delicate features, but right now she looked like she had come back from war. Her bottom lip was swollen, with a deep cut on it. Y/n couldn't see it properly because Grace was holding an ice pack against it, but from what she could see it was obvious that the girl’s lip was just also bruised.

“Your mouth–” Y/n said, pointing at Grace.

“Yeah, yours doesn't look too different either,” Grace said, removing the ice from her face. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I don’t remember how it happened.” Y/n admitted.

“Tooney made a high pass, I tried to get it with my head and I didn’t see you were close,” Grace said with a sad smile. “They say we bump heads but I pretty much bit your lip off, too”

“it hurts,” Y/n said in a low voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“It's okay. Are you okay?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine, but we’re gonna have to get stitches though,” Gracie said casually as she leaned back on her bed.

Stitches.

Great.

“I don’t think I’ll need stitches,” Y/n said, trying to sound stoic. She couldn’t freak out in front of Grace Clinton.

She was terrified of needles and anything that had to go into her skin. She didn’t even have any tattoos for that reason. Y/n was most definitely not going to get stitches, nonetheless here in the Man United infirmary. If it was in Arsenal’s infirmary might be cool about it.

“Well, I can barely understand what you’re saying because of how much your lip is so busted, so I think you are going to need stitches,” Grace said with an amused smile on her face. “She’ll put a numbing cream on it, you won’t feel a thing, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.” Y/n lied, her trembling hands betraying her. She quickly tried to hide them by sitting on her hands, but then her feet began to move anxiously.

Grace looked Y/n up and down, an understanding smile on her face. “You don’t have to act tough, it’s okay.”

Y/n felt a rush of blood to her cheeks. “I’m not acting tough,” she muttered, looking down.

She was a grown woman with a fear of needles. She felt silly.

Mary came in, a box written with suture materials on her hand.

Y/n went pale. Maybe she was going to throw up again.

“Okay sweeties,” Mary said enthusiastically, as if she enjoyed sewing people up. “Good news first: I found the anaesthetic cream,” she held up the small tube up as a prize.

“And bad news: we’ve got to be quickly because Y/n’s bus is waiting for her to leave, so let’s get going!” Mary continued.

Good to know that Y/n hadn’t been completely abandoned by her teammates in the middle of Manchester.

“Y/n, let’s get you stitched up first, yeah?”

Y/n gulped and opened her mouth, but she froze and couldn’t say anything. She looked frightened at Mary terrified and then at Grace.

“I can go first, Mary,” Grace said, holding up her hand. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay, then,” Mary said.

The nurse took the suture kit and walked in Grace’s direction. Y/n couldn’t see what Mary was doing because her body was directly in front of Y/n. The girl could only hear the nurse open the cream, and then it was quiet.

Mary started stitching Grace up. Grace didn’t make a sound or move. Y/n was in awe, she just couldn’t believe that she was being switched up and not shaking all over.

In less than 10 minutes Grace’s stitches were done. They were just on her lips, in the same place where Y/n would get hers.

The stitches were small, they looked raw and swollen, but the scar would be tiny.

“Okay, you’re good to go, honey, just make sure you don’t carry any heavyweight until your bruise is completely healed.” Mary patted Grace on the back as the girl got up from the bed.

Mary turned to Y/n and pointed at her. “Now it’s your turn, lie down on the bed for me please.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat again.

Okay, she could do it. All she had to do was breathe in and out.

Y/n tried to breathe, but the air didn’t reach her lungs. Her hands started to tremble. She shook her head and put her hands in front of her body, not letting Mary get any closer.

“I don’t want to,” Y/n said, trying to get away from Mary. “I’ll get stitches when I get back to Arsenal.” She was most definitely not going to do that.

Mary looked at her like she was a child.

“And are you planning to sit on a 4-hour drive to London with blood dripping from your forehead and mouth?” Mary asked patronisingly. “Don’t be silly, there’s no way a player like you is afraid of a few stitches, now lie down, I haven’t got all the time in the world and neither have you.

Okay, Mary wasn’t so nice anymore.

If Y/n hadn’t just had a concussion, she’d swear she’d seen the slightest frown on Grace’s face.

Y/n was embarrassed. She was a professional player and she was afraid of stitches, blood and needles. Y/n’s worst nightmare wasn’t to tear her ACL, but to suffer some kind of laceration during the game. And right now her nightmare had come true.

Her brain was already planning an escape route. There was nothing in her contract that said she had to go through with medical procedures if she didn’t agree with them.

And yes, her teammates would not enjoy spending 4 hours on a bus with someone bleeding, but what could they do? Put her on a train and send her off to London on her own.

If she could just get Mary to look away for a second, maybe she could reach the door and…

Y/n felt a dip in the mattress by her side.

“You guys won, did you know it?” Grace said, smiling at Y/n. “Cooney-Cross scored, 2-1 to Arsenal.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to distract me, I know it.”

“I just want to talk, really,” Grace said relaxed as if the infirmary was her favourite place to make small talk. “

Mary put the numbing cream first on her forehead and then on her lips. It stung at first, but then she couldn’t feel her skin anymore, as if it was anaesthetized.

Y/n breathed in and out again, trying not to panic. She would get stitches and she would be fine.

She closed her eyes.

“Who-who assisted Kyra?” Y/n questioned. If Grace was being kind enough to help her, Y/n would cooperate as well.

Mary’s cold hand found her skin. She didn't know if she was getting the stitches yet. Maybe not feeling them was worse than feeling the pain, at least she could understand what was happening.

“That Fox girl, I think her name is Emily, right?” Grace said. “Is she American?”

“Uhum,” Y/n said.

Breathe in and out. She just had to pretend there weren’t any kind of needles near her face.

“Now I’m going to do your lips, just keep them closed, Y/n,” Mary said.

If she was working on Y/n’s lips then maybe she was done with her forehead? She didn’t feel any pain, so it was probably good.

“I’ve always wanted to visit America,” Grace said, more to herself since Y/n couldn’t answer her. “I saw that Arsenal played in Washington last season, I hope Man United can play there too, it would be fun to travel with the girls.”

Y/n smiled, thinking about the trip. It was really a nice change of scenery to play in America. The crowd was different, the weather was warmer. It was a good memory.

“Try not to smile now, honey,” Mary said. “I’m almost finished here.”

“We’ve got a game in France next week, it’s just a friendly against Lyon, but it’ll be nice to get away from England’s winter,” Grace continued. “Not that the weather in France is any better at this time of the year. But still, I would rather be cold and eat a good croissant.”

Y/n wanted to smile at Grace again but remembered Mary’s scolding.

“And we’re all done here!” Mary said, clapping her hands. “Now you’re both free to go, I’ll email each of your clubs what we’ve done so they can include it in your medical report.”

Y/n opened her eyes and was met with Grace’s face. She looked pretty, even with the stitches on.

“Thank you, Mary,” Y/n and Grace said in unison as they left the infirmary. They were met with a silent and empty corridor.

Manchester United Stadium was pretty and clean, but it was way too dark to see anything. The hallways were gloomy and Y/n wasn’t a fan of the dark.

“Thank you for what you did there,” Y/n said, looking up at Grace, she couldn't really see her face, but Y/n knew she was there by the subtle touch of their hands as they walked. “You didn't have to, you’re probably late now and–”

“I know I didn’t have to,” Grace said as they walked through the corridors. “I just wanted to do it.”

Y/n honestly didn’t know where she was, she was just following Grace, hoping that the girl knew her own team’s stadium better she did.

“But you were scared and it was my fault that you had to get stitches at the end of the day,” Grace continued. “Besides, it was nice talking to you.”

Y/n blushed slightly. “You still think that even after I threw up in front of you and almost had a panic attack because of some stitches?” Y/n said half-jokingly, feeling a small shiver as their hands touched again

“Well, I did cut your lip open with my teeth, so I’d say we’re even,” Grace joked, turning left into a hallway that was less dark than before.

“It’s a very physical game, it’s bound to happen,” Y/n said smiling. “You don’t have to apologise.”

They walked on until Y/n finally realised where she was. She was near the changing rooms for the away and home teams. Next to the changing room was the media room, where the players, but mainly the technical staff, answered questions from sports journalists.

There were a lot of voices coming from the media room, it looked busy.

Y/n took a quick look inside the room and saw both Arsenal and Man United managers answering questions.

She wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was, though, because in a matter of seconds a girl with a badge that said ‘Media’ was standing in front of her and Grace, mobile phone in hand.

“Hi girls, I’m Tara, I work for the Barclays Women's Super League’s Instagram and I was wondering if I could get a picture of you two together?” The woman asked nicely. “The fans are worried about your injury, so it would be nice to give a little update.”

“Would it just be a picture? Or an interview? We can’t talk much because of our lips,” Grace said, pointing at Y/n’s mouth and then at herself. “We just got stitches.”

“Just a picture to put on the Instagram feed,” Tara explained professionally. “If that’s all right with you, guys?”

Grace and Y/n exchanged a look and then nodded to Tara, who smiled and asked them to stand in front of one of the lights in the hallway.

Grace took a step closer to Y/n and gently placed her hand on Y/n’s hip. They smiled as Grace made the peace sign with her hand.

Y/n missed Grace’s hand after she had taken it from her body. It was warm, she liked it.

“Okay, that’s great! Thanks, girls,” Tara said after looking at the picture on her phone. “I hope you make a full recovery”

Tara left, leaving Y/n and Grace alone.

“We should probably go before more journalists come, I don’t really feel like talking to them,” Grace said.

“Well, we actually can’t talk much, anyway.”

They walked until they reached a door with the words “Player’s car park” on it. Grace opened the door for Y/n and they were greeted by the Manchester night.

Y/n quickly spotted the Arsenal bus. She even forgot that her teammates were waiting for her, they must be tired of waiting. It was already late.

Y/n turned to Grace “Thanks again, for staying with me…and being so nice,”

Grace smiled, “You don’t have to thank me, it’s alright, I’m the one who should thank you, if it was any other player they’d be mad at me for the injury, it was reckless.”

“I don't think anyone could be mad at you,” Y/n said, looking into Grace’s green eyes

“Oh they could,” Grace joked, looking around the car park. “Sorry again for hurting you, I hope it heals soon”

“It will, I’ll take good care of it,” Y/n said.

“Good. I’ll see you around, yeah?” Grace said.

“Yeah, of course,” Y/n said, feeling warmth in her cheeks. Grace was pretty, very pretty.

“Bye them, have a safe trip,” Grace waved before walking to a car parked on the other side of the parking lot, Y/n assumed it was hers.

Y/n made her way to the Arsenal team bus, but when she opened the door all she could hear was her teammates yapping.

“I think I should go check on her,” Kim said worriedly. “She’s been there for an hour!”

“I already talked to the nurse, she said it would take some time to stitch her up, mate, be patient,” Leah said.

“And that’s why somebody should go with her, Y/n is scared of needles, how is she going to get stitched up alone?” Kim stated.

“Kim, mate, relax! You always fuss over us, Y/n's fine, I just spoke with the nurse.”

“Of course, I fuss over you guys, I’m the captain! And you, Leah,” Kim said pointing at the blonde, “should do the same, since you’re co-captain.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll go! You’re talking as if I didn't stand by the infirmary door like a dog until the nurse kicked me out,” Leah muttered as she walked down the steps of the bus.

As she walked down she came face to face with Y/n.

“Oh look who’s here,” Leah said smiling, stopping in her tracks, she turned around and shouted, “Guys, she’s here!”

Leah took Y/n’s hand and the two girls walked into the bus. It was mostly dark, with an annoying smell of the peanuts Katie was always snacking on.

When the girl saw Y/n they all smiled at him.r

“Hey girl, how are you?” Alessia said, getting up from her seat to give Y/n a hug. “I was so scared when you fell there was so much blood on Grace's face! And the referee took forever to stop the game.”

Leah put a comforting hand on Y/n’s back. “You fainted, I thought they were going to call an ambulance. Don’t do that again, please”

“Do that again? You’re saying it like I wanted to get my forehead and lips cut open,” Y/n mumbled, waving and smiling at Kim.

“Leah and Kim were so angry,” Katie said from one of the last seats, “I think the only reason Leah didn’t scream at Grace was because she was hurt.”

“Of course, I wanted to scream! What was she thinking, jumping on you like that?” Leah said, her protective side showing as she squeezed Y/n’s shoulder a little harder. “She knows better than that. If it had happened at Camp, Sarina would’ve benched her on the spot.

“Come on Leah, you’d never forgive yourself if you shouted at Gracie girl,” Beth said, “she’s a sweetheart when we play for England.”

“Plus, I don’t think she saw Y/n, she wasn’t even looking at her side,” Kim said, “But let’s forget about Grace, how are those stitches? Did you panic?”

“Yeah I kind of did, but Grace talked me through it,” Y/n said, sitting down in her usual spot next to Alessia, the blonde wrapping her arms around her.

“That seems like grace, she is like the nicest person ever,” Alessia said. “And she gives great hugs too.”

“Okay, now you’re all making me feel bad for getting mad at her,” Leah said, rolling her eyes and sitting down in her seat a few rows away from Y/n.

“So y/n, tell me, do you think the game was mind-blowing or what?” Kyra said teasingly, sitting in the row right behind Y/n and Alessia, Steph by her side.”

“Too soon to be making puns about her bruise, you menace,” Steph said, playfully smacking Kyra on the head. “At least wait until it heals.”

..

The Arsenal team have been on the road to London for two hours. Everyone was asleep, some girls had their sleep masks on, and others were wrapped in blankets.

Everyone except Y/n.

The pain in her lip and forehead was bothering her and she didn’t have any painkillers she could take, she’d have to wait until she got home to take some ibuprofen. The pain was the main reason why Y/n was awake and playing games on her phone next to a very sleeping Alessia.

Y/n had set the screen brightness to the lowest possible, the bus was completely dark, which made her feel furtive in some sort of way.

She was halfway through with her Sudoku when she got a notification on her Instagram.

Barclays Women’s Super League tagged you on their post.

Y/n quickly clicked on it and in a matter of seconds, the picture of her and Grace appeared on her screen.

“A tough game, but both players are on the mend! ⚽” read the caption. There were an awful lot of comments on the post already. Maybe people were really worried about them.

The picture was cute.

Well, Grace looked cute. Y/n looked awful, her kit was completely dirty with grass, blood and mud, her hair was in a messy bun, and you could literally see the sweat on her neck. Gross.

Y/n’s stitches looked awful as well, they were very red, swollen and just raw.

Of course, Grace didn't look much different from Y/n, neither of them had had a chance to shower before the photo, but still, for some reason, Grace still looked pretty in her Manchester United kit.

Y/n stared at the picture, then the picture stared at her back.

She clicked on the post and saw Grace’s Instagram handle. She clicked on it and started scrolling through Grace’s profile, but not in I'm-obsessed-with-you way, more like a you-were-so-nice-i-want-to-get-to-know-you-better way.

Her Instagram was like any other player's. Lots of pictures of her on the pitch, in training, and at camp, but not much about her private life, unfortunately.

Y/n didn't know why she felt so creepy while scrolling through Grace’s Instagram, It wasn’t like it was wrong or weird, they just met and y/n wanted to know more about her… see if there were any hobbies she was interested in in in, what places had Grace had been, and stuff like that.

Grace seemed like a very nice person through the lens of Instagram. She seemed very dedicated to football, loyal to a few of her friends, and funny but also private.

Y/n wasn’t much different, she also didn’t like to post much about her life outside of football on social media. She and Grace had this in common.

Y/n went back to the picture of them together.

Maybe she should comment on it. Something casual, something funny, but not bold.

Stitch up buddies! she wrote, but then deleted.

God, that was so lame.

Matching tattoos are overrated, so we got matching stitches instead.

That was good. It was casual, it didn’t sound like she was flirting.

She hit send.

Then she dramatically put her hands in her face. “Bloody hell why did I do that?” she whispered to herself, but not loud enough for anyone to hear.

Would Grace think she was weird? She didn’t tag Grace on the comment, maybe the girl wouldn’t even see it and they’d just get on with their lives. Maybe she could delete it.

Y/n waited a few seconds before unlocking her phone again. She decided to finish her Sudoku, maybe it would help her fall asleep.

When she was almost done with a square her phone buzzed. She read the notification.

Grace Clinton replied to your comment.

Y/n’s heart dropped. She hesitated before opening the notification.

No one I’d rather get stitches with❤️

Y/n smiled as she read it, feeling like a giggling teenager with a secret crush.

Grace saw her comment and replied to it, and put a heart emoji next to it and it was a red heart emoji. Y/n stared at the comment for a few seconds before deciding she needed big help.

“Hey Less,” Y/n nudged Alessia, who was sleeping, face against the window, wrapped in an Arsenal hoodie. “I need your help.”

“Mm?”

Y/n place the phone on Alessia's barely awake face, she squinted her eyes because of the sudden light and pushed it away slightly, confused.

“What does a heart emoji mean?” Y/n asked,

“Huh?” Alessia said again, still sleepy.“What are you talking about?” She rubbed her eyes.

“A media girl took a picture of me and Grace after we got the stitches and they posted it, see here” Y/n showed Alessia the picture, but the girl still looked barely awake.

“Okay–?”

“So I commented on it, and Gracie replied to my comment!” Y/n did the same thing, showing Alessia the screen, but this time Alessia took the phone to read it herself.

“Oh,”

“Oh? What does "oh" mean?” Y/n said worriedly.

Alessia smiled at Y/n, a little grin on her face, something you didn’t normally see from Alessia. “Oh as in she used a red heart! That's good, oh.”?”

“Yes! That's what I thought, she could choose a blue one, right or even a yellow one?” Y/n said enthusiastically. “But do you feel like she picked it in a friendly way or…”

“What are you guys on about?” Kyra chimed in from the seat behind Y/n, just her face sticking out of the side of Y/n’s seat. “

“Y/n has a crush on Grace,” Alessia said in a low voice.

“I-What?! It’s not a crush, stop it,” Y/n denied, frowning. “It’s–I just think she’s cute, that’s all.”

“Oh wow, a crush, huh?” Kyra said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Are you star-crossed lovers? She bit a part of your lip and now she has a piece of your heart?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and pushed Kyra's face back into her row. “You’re so annoying, go back to your seat.”

“What are you going to do about that comment?” Alessia asked, ignoring the usual bickering between Kyra and Y/n.

“I don’t know. What do you think I should do, Less?” Y/n asked.

Alessia and Kyra were Y/n’s go-to girls for every problem she had, although she always leaned more towards Alessia when her problems involved other people.

“You should reply to it,” Kyra said, sticking her head back to Y/n’s row. “Drop a heart too, I dunno, but you can’t just leave it at that.”

“How do you even know what we are talking about? I haven’t even told you what she commented” Y/n turned to Kyra.

“I was eavesdropping,” Kyra admitted, “You guys were whisper-yelling.”

“No, we were not,” Y/n argued.

“Yes you were, you should be grateful that Kim sleeps with earplugs. Do you remember the last time we woke her up during a trip? She made Less cry.”

“She scares me sometimes,” Alessia said, looking into the void.

“Guys back to the real problem!” Y/n said, pointing at her phone. “Should I just like the comment and say anything? Or maybe I don't like it at all?”

“Can I take a look at it?” Kyra asked a pout on her face. “Please?”

“Yeah, of course, babe,” Y/n said, giving the phone to Kyra.

She was so bad at socialising and interacting with people in general, especially the ones she found attractive, like Grace.

She wasn’t even sure if Grace was into girls. Then again, she was a football player, so there was at least a 75 per cent chance—but still. Y/n bit her lip out of anxiety, but a sharp pain came, she forgot she had just got those damn stitches.

“Oh no,” Kyra whispered.

“What?” Y/n and Alessia turned their heads at the same time, not so much as whisper-yelling anymore.

“I liked one of her pictures,” Kyra admitted, talking fast “I’m so so sorry Y/n, I just disliked it back, but she’ll get the notification anyway.”

Y/n went pale. Fuck no.

“Kyra!” Y/n said, taking the phone out of her hands.

“Was it an old picture?” Alessia asked, biting her nails and looking from Kyra to Y/n. “Y/n don’t freak out, it’s okay.” She put a hand on Y/n's back and patted it.

“I think it was from 3 years ago,” Kyra said. “I just wanted to see her profile! I’m really sorry!”

“I’m gonna eat broken glass,” Y/n said. No expression on her face.

Alessia put her arm around Y/n. “It’s okay, maybe she won’t even notice, she must get a lot of notifications all the time, she probably won’t see yours.”

“Yeah! Especially after a game, people go crazy when we play,” Kyra said guiltily. “I’m really sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“It’s okay, Ky,” Y/n said, leaning into Alessia's shoulder as Kyra’s hand patted her arm.

“I guess I’ll just never play against Man United ever again,” Y/n continued, biting her nails. “It’s not like football is my only talent, I can quiet it. That’s a good option.

“When’s our next game against United anyway?” Alessia asked, ignoring Y/n ramblings.

“In two months,” Kyra replied. “But it’s just a friendly.”

“Just so you know I’ll have a serious case of period cramps by then. Y/n said. “Renée will have to bench me.”

Y/n was in distress. Now Grace was going to think she was some kind of weird stalker going through old pictures of her. She wanted to hide away in her bed and never come out into the world ever again.

Y/n’s phone buzzed again, unexpectedly.

The three girls held their breath.

“I can’t look at it,” Y/n said, giving her phone to Alessia and burying her face in her shirt. “You look at it.”

Alessia took the phone as Kyra moved her head to see the screen.

“Oh she definitely noticed you,” Alessia said teasingly. “She just followed you! Yay! ”

“What!?” Y/n said, taking her face out of her shirt. “She followed me?!”

“And liked your last post about helping stray animals,” Kyra said, holding the phone to her face.

Y/n felt disappointed. “Really?

“No, I'm kidding, she liked a selfie, and an old one too, from 2021,” Kyra smiled as she jabbed from Y/n playful punch. “Congrats, she likes you back,”

“Now Y/n, you have to say ‘Kyra thank you so much, your mistake was a blessing in disguise, I’m so lucky to have you as a frie–”

“Who likes you back?”

The three girls turned their heads.

Leah was staring at them, arms crossed, frown on her face, her pillow tucked under her arm. She looked tired.

“W-what?” the girls said in unison.

“Did we wake you up? Kyra said, trying to give Leah one of her sweet smiles, but the frown on Leah’s face continued.”We’re sorry,”

“Yes you did, you’re out here giggling like schoolgirls,” she muttered. “But it doesn’t matter, at least Kim is still asleep. If she woke up we’d have a problem.”

They all looked to their left where Kim was in a deep sleep.

“Last time she woke up–”

“Yeah, we remember,” The girls answered Leah again in unison.

“But back to the point,” Leah said. “Who likes you back?”

The bus was silent.

“Oh come on, it’s the least you can do after waking me up,” Leah said, crossing her arms. “You know I never pry on your life, just tell me this once.”

Y/n looked at Alessia, then at Kyra, waiting for them to come in and elaborate a straight-up lie so she wouldn’t have to admit to Leah that she had a crush on the girl who sent her to the infirmary just three hours ago.

“I think Grace Clinton is cute.” Y/n quickly and defensively, crossing her arm and imitating Leah.

Leah grinned. “Grace Clinton, huh? Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Do you have something for a girl who draws you a little blood? “

“Stop it, Leah, don’t say it like that!” Y/n blushed. “I think she’s cute and kind…and I’m not embarrassed about it.”

“I mean… yeah? Why would you be embarrassed about it? ” Leah said with the i-don’t-really-care-that-much usual tone in her voice, " She is a nice girl.”

“Yeah, she is,” Y/n stated, a little defensive.

Ok, maybe she should let her guard down, neither Alessia nor Kyranorr Leah were judging her for her little crush.

“She just helped me calm down with the stitches,” Y/n explained. “And she’s pretty.

“You should just ask her out whenever we have a game around Manchester or London,” Leah said casually. “You could take her out to dinner, or to some coffee shop you like.”

“You say that as if it’s easy to just ask someone on a date,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

Leah looked at her confused. “Well, it is easy. You just have to ask them. If they say yes you go on the date and if they say no you just say ok and move on.”

“Things just work that way because you are Leah,” Y/n said, defeated. “I'm not like you, I'm not naturally charismatic or good with other people”

“I think you’re quite charming if that’s any consolation,” Kyra said, winking at her.

“It absolutely does not, Ky, but I appreciate you throwing me a pity bone,” Y/n said desolated.

Leah held out her hand, palm open. “Give me your phone–I’ll fix it in like ten seconds.”

“What, no!” Y/n said, holding her phone close to her chest, and protecting it.

“Why not? If you’re too scared I can ask her for you,” Leah rolled her eyes.

“I think you should do it,” Alessia said. “Or else you’ll regret not doing something about it,”

“Yeah, and you’ll whine about it every girl's night,” Kyra said. “Do it, come on.”

“What if she says no?” Y/n whined.

“Then you’ll get over it,” Leah said bluntly. “Haven’t you ever been rejected before?”

“No!” Y/n said. “I’m never the one who initiates anything.”

“Bloody hell, you’re hopeless.” Leah pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Leah!” Alessia said in a more stern voice. “Don’t say that, you have to encourage her.”

Leah held Y/n’s shoulder and leaned forward so they were the same height.

“You can’t be a coward forever,” Leah said, using her authoritative voice. “You need to woman up, are you a chicken or are you a girl?”

Y/n was silent for a few seconds.

“A girl,” she mumbled.

“Exactly, a girl, so let’s do it!”

Y/n thought about it and hesitantly handed her phone to Leah. “Don’t be too bold or too flirty or too Leah about it,”

Leah rolled her eyes but took the phone.

“Hey, Grace. Coffee next time we’re in Manchester or London?” Leah said aloud as she typed.

“No, that's too direct!” Y/n said

“Oh fine,” Leah huffed. “Hi, let me know if you’re ever around London, we could grab something to eat, xoxo.”

“I don't use xoxo.”

Leah looked at Y/n impatiently and clicked on the screen with more force than necessary, deleting the last part. “ok, no xoxo.” she huffed again.

Leah finished typing but didn’t hit send right away. She picked up the phone, teasing Y/n: “Are you going to do it, or should I?”

Y/n takes a deep breath, grabs the phone, and hits send herself—a small victory for her confidence.

“She’s gonna say yes, I can feel it,” Kyra says dramatically as Alessia hugged Y/n.

Y/n stared at her phone, her heart hammering against her ribs. She couldn’t take it back now. Well, she could, but that would be humiliating. The message was out there, sitting in Grace Clinton’s DMs, waiting to be read.

“See?” Leah smirked. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Y/n groaned and buried her face in her hoodie. “I’m never doing that again.”

“Oh, babe,” Kyra cooed, patting her head. “You’re gonna have to survive until she answers first.”

Y/n peeked at her phone screen one last time before locking it. Maybe getting stitches had been less painful than this.

..

Notes: Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Shadows and Light (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Agatha shouldn't want you. But she does. She wants you so much. If only she'd let herself have you.

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: Alcohol, self loathing, mentions of blood, angst, one bed trope, fuck you everyone lives

She couldn’t believed she’d allowed this to happen. It was inconceivable, even more so because she hadn’t noticed it happening. It had crept up on her.

You, with your wide eyes and easy smile, hair that shone, laughter that was like a bell ringing, you were everything she was not. Soft and sweet and nice. Kind. It would be disgusting if you hadn’t managed to charm her the way you charmed the rest of them.

Sitting back in her chair, nursing a glass of wine, she watched as you spun in the firelight. Dancing around the bonfire, bare feet kicking up leaves, you were a picture to watch. You were signing along, your voice clear and bright, melding with the other voices of the coven. You grasped both of Billy’s hands in yours, spinning with him in the flickering light.

The way he laughed was full of delight. You were grinning, tugging him closer as you sang, as free as she’d ever seen you. The weight had lifted and you were easier. Your head tipped back as you drank in the moonlight up above and she had to do her best not to reach out and sink her teeth into the long column of your neck. Your skirt twirled around your calves, flashes of skin in the firelight making her fingers clench.

You fell away from Billy, arms raising as you spun, such a pretty picture in the moonlight. Lilia’s arm curled around your waist, snatching you up in the dance and you went willingly. You were always so easy, so happy to give in to the whims of others, to fulfill their desires.

She wondered what would happen is she whispered her desires into your ear.

She could just imagine the look of disgust that would pass over your delicate features. The way you’d flinch back and begin to avoid her. The whispers she’d overhear about how there was something wrong with her. The confirmation she was everything anyone had ever called her.

She lent back, draining the last of her wine as she watched you, spinning and laughing and so free. So comfortable in your own body. So sure of yourself. Your head turned and even in the shadows, you found her. You smiled, so big and bright and beautiful and her heart squeezed in her chest like you’d reached through her ribcage and grasped it in your bare hand.

It was fucking pathetic.

“If you stare any harder you might set her on fire.”

She didn’t bother turning to look as Rio settled into the chair positioned beside hers. You’d been sitting in it earlier, rambling on about your plan for the garden you’d be planting this week. The cadence of your voice had been soothing after the day she’d had. There was something about it that always helped ground her back into the present, rather than plans spiralling out of control.

“I can understand your fascination,” Rio continued, “it’s not often we meet a witch so saccharine. And it’s genuine. When was the last time you met someone with no facade?”

“Everyone has facades,” she replied, automatic, uncaring if it was true or not.

“Not her.”

Rio tipped her beer towards you, drawing Agatha’s gaze back to you. Your hand was on Jen’s, twirling her, your arm curling around her waist as you did a clumsy waltz around the fire, out of time with the music and uncaring.

“If we teamed up I’m sure we could ruin her,” Rio said, voice a purr, “tear her apart, find out what makes her tick, make it so no one can put Humpty together again.”

“Stop it,” she said, not caring if her harsh voice gave away more than she usually would. There was no point pretending around Rio.

“We’d have so much fun playing with her,” she said, putting thoughts in Agatha’s mind of what she could do with you.

“Don’t,” she said, firmer, refusing to let her continue.

“Well, sweetheart, if you want to play with her, you might want to get a wriggle on or someone else will get there first.”

Rio dragged her gaze over to you significantly. Her head snapped up. Your fingers had wound with Jen’s, no longer dancing but swaying as you whispered together. Your face was so open and you were dazzling. It was incomprehensible that anyone could survive under that gaze without falling for you.

No wonder she’d had no chance.

The sharp jab of jealousy was familiar, tart and metallic in her mouth. She wanted to stop watching, didn’t want to see you fall under someone else’s spell, but feeling the inevitability of it. There was no possibility you were going to find joy in the darkness she knew she was made up of. But she couldn’t look away. She could never look away from you.

She sat with her churning gut, stewing in it. Normally, if this was someone else, she’d do something to lash out, to bring attention to back to herself, to remind everyone of her existence. Under your sunshine, she found herself shrinking back. It was infuriating and left her feeling as if she was on the back foot, unbalanced and unsure of herself. It was a new, if familiar, feeling and she hated it.

You fell into the grass beside Alice, head coming to rest on her shoulder. She passed you the bottle of beer she’d been drinking from, letting you sate your thirst. With your free hand you were pointing up at the stars, pointing something out in the night sky to her.

When Rio dropped down beside you, her jaw clenched.

She watched, a line drawn taut, as Rio’s fingers gently wound themselves through the ends of your hair. Your head rolled towards her, your smile stretching just a bit. With sure fingers, you gently tugged on the pocket of her jacket. Angling your body, you shifted to lean against Alice as your feet rested against Rio’s thigh.

Agatha felt like she was burning.

Lilia dropped down in your huddle and you automatically reached out, hand twining with hers. She watched the soft sigh that parted your lips, the way you relaxed, your eyes fluttering shut. She ached to be in the pile with you, to feel your muscles soften along the lines of her body, your weight sinking into her. She wanted to drag you away, to keep you all to herself, but even in the haze of her own anger she knew you wouldn’t appreciate it. That you liked being one part of a bigger whole. That you thrived with a coven. That you needed something she hadn’t let herself want for a very long time.

She squeezed her eyes closed, tipping her head upwards, taking a long slow breath in.

She didn’t open them again someone dropped into the seat beside her. Squinting them open, she’d expected Rio back. Instead, your soft smile greeted her, knees pulled up, chin resting on them as you tilted towards her.

“Tonight’s been good,” you sweet voice said, “have you enjoyed yourself, Aggie?”

“Aggie?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Do you not like it?” Your eyes widened and she saw the worry swimming in them, “sorry, I don’t have to-“

“It’s fine,” she interrupted, waving her hand. On your lips, the nickname was spun sugar, her heart beating double time.

“Have you though?” you asked, “enjoyed yourself?”

You reached out, your finger gently curling around a strand of her hair. Your lips parted and you looked at her from under lowered lashes, such hope in your face.

“You sure know how to throw a party,” she said, the way you were looking at her making up for the churning in her stomach.

The pleased tilt to your chin and the brightening of your eyes had her feeling like a live wire. You lent closer, the arm of the chair digging into your body as if you wanted to be close the distance between the two of you. She wondered if the arms weren’t present if you’d climb into her lap. She liked the thought of it.

“Are you going to stay tonight? Only it’s late and if you don’t want to drive you can. Lilia and Jen have already said they will and Billy…” You glanced back towards your house, “he passed out on the couch about an hour ago. I texted Eddie to let him know.”

“Not Rio or Alice?” she asked, the corner of her lips pulling up.

“Alice drove Shannon home and Rio did that thing where she just kind of disappears. If you don’t want to stay that’s okay but there’s space for you,” you said, fingers weaving together like you were anxious, like her answer mattered to you.

She reached out, placing her hand over yours, stopping you from twisting them to the point of breaking.

“I’ll stay,” she said.

You lit up like a goddess damned Christmas tree. Her heart stuttered, stumbling over itself and she cursed the day she’d met you. This was getting ridiculous. She wasn’t some mooney eyed teenager with a crush. She was Agatha Harkness; Witch Killer. You were nothing. No one.

It was amazing how she’d grown so used to lying to herself.

“Okay, but I only have one guest room. So we’re all going to have to share with someone. Do you have a preference?” you asked, rushing over the words.

She definitely had a preference.

“Will any of you be comfortable enough to be so vulnerable around me?” she asked.

“If you kill me in my sleep I’ll haunt you,” you said, “and I can be very annoying. You’ll never get a moment of peace again.”

She would happily spend eternity haunted by you. She had to get a grip. This was just unseemly.

“Then I suppose you know my preference,” she said.

She watched you stand up, bare toes digging into the grass. You held a hand out to her. She stared blankly.

“You take it,” you said, sounding amused.

She took it.

Bare skin brushing together, sending electricity running over her body from her palm. Staring for a moment, she couldn’t quite comprehend the way it looked, your fingers and hers knotted together. You tugged her out of her seat, breaking the moment of confusion from her brain. She was ready for you to pull away, but all you did was lead her back towards the house, hands swinging through the air. Why did it feel like the world had shrunk to that tiny point of contact?

“Are you guys good to share?” you asked as you entered the kitchen.

“We have to share a bed?” Jen asked.

You let go of Agatha’s hand and she had to bite back the disappointment. Your own arm slid around Jen’s waist, leaning into her as you blinked up at her. Lilia was staring at her, an assessing look on her face. Agatha looked back, not sure what she was seeing.

“There’s only two bed so unless you want to sleep on the floor, it’s you and Lilia, and me and Agatha,” you said.

“Good luck with that,” Jen said.

“You know, one day, and I’m not saying it’ll be today, but one day you’re going to have to admit you actually like her,” you said, “we’re a coven, a sisterhood. We belong together and to one another. Even Agatha.”

You looked over to her and she felt frozen in place. She wasn’t used to people talking about her that way. Like she was one of the team.

“Yes, well, if the feeling portion of the night is done, I wouldn’t mind retiring for the night,” she said, placing her empty wine glass down on the counter, trying to move past the rough squeezing in her chest.

“Course,” you said, “c’mon.”

You practically skipped out of the room. Billy was on the couch in your living room, his soft snores surprisingly endearing. Someone had laid a blanket over him. She could guess who. She hated that it made her feel something squishy in her chest.

“Locked the door,” Lilia said, pausing on the stairs.

“Yeah, it’s locked,” you said over your shoulder to her, “don’t worry.”

Lilia shook her head, seemingly coming back to the moment.

At the top of the stairs, you pointed to the door of the guest bedroom and the bathroom. And then the door to your bedroom was closing and she was locked in with you. You didn’t even stop to consider her, moving around the room like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” you said, “I have stuff if you don’t want to sleep in your clothes.”

She took the offered clothes, your hand brushing over hers. The door to the ensuite closed and she let out a long breath. She forced herself to get a grip over herself. Dragging the clothes over her body, she looked at herself in the mirror. It would do for sleep, but she hardly wanted anyone seeing her like this. They were soft and your perfume clung to the material and it was like being wrapped in your arms. No one should be able to see the expression on her face.

“Don’t worry, you look great. Just like always.”

She startled, not having heard you exit the bathroom. In your tank top and shorts, she was having difficulty looking at you straight on. If she did, she knew it would only end in trouble. Self control wasn’t one of her strong suits. Especially around you.

“If you’re not comfortable in them, I guess I can find something else for you to wear, but I’m not sure I really have anything that’s more to your taste,” you said, your worry palpable.

“It’s fine,” she said.

“Okay.”

You paused in front of her, fingers brushing over the back of her hands, featherlight and so soft. Her shoulders relaxed and she looked down at you properly. You were so small, so delicate, a harsh wind would snap you in half. In her hands, you’d have no chance.

Pushing up onto your toes, your fingers brushed over her throat and she had to physically stop herself from shivering. You dropped back down, smiling up at her like she’d made all your dreams come true.

“Left or right side?” you asked.

In the dark, it was so much worse. You seemed to have no issue curling up beside her. Your hand had reached blindly through the dark, fingers tangling with hers, a soft sigh on your lips when you found her. Your face was turned towards her, eyes closed, eyelashes resting on your cheeks. She found herself staring, not able to stop herself, tracing your features with her eyes, yearning to reach out and touch.

She couldn’t trust herself around you.

Muscles clenched, she tried to stay vigilant through the night, refusing to let herself relax. The moment she did, she was certain she would do something to you, something beyond her control, something to ruin you. Only, after some time, once she was certain you were asleep, you rolled over, face pressing into her shoulder, curling into her body. It was what she’d been hoping for, and yet it set off all kinds of fight or flight responses in her body.

She turned her head away from you, closing her eyes, doing her best not to feel the warmth of you against her, the ghost of your breath on her skin, your hand in hers. You pressed closer, seeking out her warmth. It all ached so much.

She tore her hand from yours, rolling over, refusing to give in. She knew she couldn’t listen to that voice inside of her, the one telling her to take what she wanted. Every time she did, someone got hurt and she wasn’t going to let it hurt you.

Your arm curled around her waist, bringing your body closer, aligning yourself with her. She froze. Mumbling something, your lips brushed the skin of her neck, tightening your arm around her. You threw your leg over her, keeping her in your embrace, refusing to let her go even as she tried to wriggle away.

“Sleep, Aggie,” you mumbled, “it’s bedtime.”

She stilled again. You let out a contented hum, burying your face against her. You softened again, muscles relaxing. She squeezed her eyes shut, winding her fingers through yours, holding them to her stomach. Maybe letting herself have this for one night wouldn’t be so bad. She could stop again in the morning and everything would be okay.

One night. She’d give herself one night. And then she’d let you go.

Cracking her eyes open in the morning light, she groaned. She buried her face in the soft hair in front of her, breathing in the floral perfume that she knew clung to your skin. You pushed back against her, melting into the mattress. Her fingers brushed over the soft skin of your stomach. The little noise you made was addictive enough that she did it again.

“Aggie,” you sighed, soft and sweet and delicious.

First thing in the morning, your voice was deeper, lower, a little raspy. She wanted to luxuriate in it, make you speak soliloquies just to hear it. Her arms tightened around you, practically crushing you to her.

“Agatha,” you murmured, almost a moan. She liked that.

If her fingers slipped down, found the heat between your legs, she would be able to hear you moan properly. If she tasted you, she could get you to moan so loudly it would be burned into her brain. If she fucked you deeply into the mattress she could make it so you never stopped moaning.

She couldn’t do any of that.

Dragging her arms from around you, she ignored the chill that went through her. She’d had her one night. She’d slept deeply and well, and now it was time to return to real life.

She lay back, considering getting up, slipping out of the bed and getting dressed and finding coffee. Your ceiling stared back at her, mocking her as she lay in indecision in your bed. The covers tugged and she was reminded of how close you still were, curled up in sleep, soft and vulnerable. Perfect for digging her nails in and shaping you how she wanted.

Only she wanted you exactly how you were. She wanted you soft and gentle and vulnerable. She wanted you with your open heart and wide eyes and trusting nature. She wanted every smile, every flutter of eyelashes, every giggle. She was greedy and she knew she hungered for something she would never have, a hunger she wasn’t sure she could ever satiate. She was every dark thought and every monster, and she would corrupt you, ruin you, rot you from the inside out.

And yet she wanted with such wild abandon she couldn’t stop.

She pushed up, sitting, ready to swing her legs out of the bed and retreat before she did something she regretted. Rio was right. All she brought was destruction and she couldn’t destroy you. It would destroy her.

Warm fingers curled around her wrist and she froze. You were blinking up at her, wide eyes still soft with sleep but the corners of your lips were pulled down. She was already ruining you.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

Your other hand rubbed at your eyes, wiping the sleep from them. Her heart gave an extra hard beat, almost slamming in her chest.

“Were you going to slip out without saying goodbye?” you asked when she didn’t answer, sounding lost and hurt and she hated herself in that moment more than she ever had before.

You were still lying back, hair spread over the pillow, looking perfect for her to ruin. Her lips could paint such pretty pictures on your skin. She could make those wide eyes glaze over as you moaned her name. You would be hers if she let herself have you.

“You were.” You pouted, “you were going to leave without saying goodbye.”

You sat up and she had to drag her gaze away from the way the neckline of your tank top dipped, showing swathes of skin she wanted to bury herself in. Turning her head away, she tried not to show the way she felt heat creeping up her cheeks.

Because she was looking away, she had no chance to avoid it when you swung one leg over her and deposited yourself in her lap.

“That’s not very nice, Aggie. I bet you weren’t even going to leave a note,” you said.

Your hands were on her shoulders, winding into her hair, tugging her closer and all she could think of was how nice the weight of you in her lap felt. Her fingers clenched in the sheets, keeping from touching you. She was worried if she started then she’d never stop.

You weren’t making this easy on her.

You were still liquid warmth from sleep, pressing closer, those wide eyes eating her alive. You were still pouting and you were so close and all she wanted to do was close the distance and claim you. To let your warmth consume her until she was on fire.

“That’s so mean,” you said, fingertips dragging over her cheekbones, brushing the pulse in her neck, pushing just under the neckline of the shirt she’d borrowed.

“I am mean,” she said, forcing the words past her lips.

“No you’re not.” You shook your head, hair flying around your face, “you pretend to be but you’re not really.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, not able to meet your eye.

Your fingers gripped her hair, right at the roots, fists clenching until it pulled. She looked up into your face, finding something fierce there. It looked wrong on your face and yet so very right.

“I do. I do know. You pretend you’re this big scary monster who snatches children in the night but you’re not. You’re busy protecting a gooey centre that could break so easily.” Your fingers tightened in her hair. She hissed from the pain, “you care, Agatha Harkness. You care so much sometimes I think it scares you.”

“I don’t-“

You cut her off before she could say more than that.

“I see you, Aggie. Every part of you. And you’re wonderful.”

Your lips pressed to hers, rough and insistent, not the gentle brush she’d always imagined. You pressed closer, knees digging into her as they held her in place, fingers in her hair tugging and pulling. She was a live wire, caught under you, a hurricane going through her because of you. You pressed closer, nipping at her lip.

When she kissed you back, you sighed, melting against her. How could she not kiss you back, when you made such a pleased noise in the back of your throat as she did? You were a force of nature and she was merely a speck, destined to bow to you in all your might. Her hands grasped your hips, keeping you there with her, feeling how warm your skin was through the thin cotton of your shorts.

She fell back, dragging you with her, your lips finding their home on her skin. Wet, open mouthed kisses down the column of her neck turned her head fuzzy. She could drown in you, in the tsunami of her feelings for you, in the downpour of desperation she felt. Your tongue tasted her skin and you moaned, almost too quiet to be heard, muffled in her skin.

Her fingers pushed up past your shirt, seeking out the warm skin. There was much of it, swathes of it, all of it unexplored by her touch. An explorer with the sweetest of expeditions before her. You pressed closer, shivering, nose skimming along her jaw.

“Aggie,” you whispered, practically a whimper, pressing down on her.

Her hands kept creeping higher, before she dragged her nails down again. Your teeth nipped at her skin and the surprised laugh that came from her jolted her out of the moment.

“Stop,” she said, ripping her hands from your body, “I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

You sat up and a frustrated look passed over your face. She stayed reclined on the pillows, every inch of her warring with her self control. Your hair was mussed, lips kiss stung, eyes bright. All she wanted was to ravage you, to paint her name behind your ribs and burn herself into your skin. You were a step away from being indecent.

“I see the way you look at me. I know how you feel about it me. It throbs through you,” you said, fingertips on her jaw, on her cheeks over her nose, “it’s a living heartbeat, your want for me.”

“Stop.”

Her fingers curled around your wrists, so delicate her hands became handcuffs easily. She dragged your hands from her, looking up, her chest caving in. You lent down, eyes seeking her out, refusing to let her wriggle out of this moment with her.

“I want you so much it’s like I’m being eaten alive,” you whispered, your hair brushing her skin, your eyes imploring, your lips sweets as they spilled saccharine secrets.

“I can’t,” she said again.

“Why not?” you asked and tears gathered in your eyes like jewels.

“I destroy everything I touch,” she said, her thumb brushing away a glittering tear before it could fall. Another fell in its place.

“No, Aggie,” you moaned, “you don’t destroy. You make. You made us. We were just a group of people and you made us into a coven.”

“I don’t know what it means to have a coven,” she said, looking away.

“You do.” Your forehead pressed against hers, eyes squeezed closed, breath hitching, “you yearn for one so fiercely it burns.”

“Stop doing that,” she said.

The hands still curled around your wrists shoved you away. You fell back, a mess of hair and tears and bare skin and she’d never wanted to tear you apart but you had cracked open her chest and all she could think about was getting her claws deep into your flesh until she was part of you. She refused to see she already was.

“Stop reading me,” she snapped.

“You shout.” You sniffled, “you’re so loud around me I can’t help it.”

She turned away, passing her hand over her face, surprised when it came away wet. She didn’t stop you as you curled your arms around her waist, face buried between her shoulder blades.

“Please, Aggie. Don’t deny yourself this. I’m yours, willingly and completely. You could never destroy me. You’d never let yourself,” you said, muffled in her shirt. She could feel your lips move with every word.

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” she said.

“I don’t need to. I only need to know what you will do. And I trust you,” you whispered.

She turned, dislodging you. Your fingers twisted in your lap and she wanted to rip them from your body and she wanted to suck on them and she wanted to feel them run all over her body. You blinked and your lips parted and you were the picture of innocence. How could she mar you? How could she let herself ruin your perfection?

“You shouldn’t,” she said.

“You won’t break me by holding on too tight. I want you to hold on tight. Even if it hurts. Especially if it hurts. You don’t understand what it’s like. How I crave you,” you said, “sometimes I think I can only breathe when you’re around. That I’m holding my breath until I see you again.”

“You can’t mean that,” she said, her heart eviscerated at your words.

“I do.” Your hands clutched hers, “I do.”

You were looking at her, such wide eyes, swimming with emotion and she remembered the way you kissed her. Not soft and gentle and safe, but like you would die if you stopped. The desperation was all yours. You held on and refused to let go. Your teeth sunk in. You fought dirty for what you wanted.

“Please, Aggie,” you whispered, fingertips on her cheek again, catching her tears, gaze slipped down to her lips, “let me have you.”

Who needed self control?

She launched herself at you, sending you sprawling over the mattress. The kiss was bruising, demanding, taking ruthlessly. She was thrown on her back, you climbing on top again, fingernails dragging over her skin. Your knees dug in, poking into her soft vulnerable places. You didn’t give her time to breathe, suffocating her with your kisses. But what a delicious way to go.

“Oi.”

A fist slammed into the bedroom door. You startled, sitting up, looking beautifully mussed. She dragged her nails up your thighs and she felt you quiver.

“Are you still alive in there?” Jen called through the door.

“Yeah,” you called, breathless and squirming above her.

“Good.”

The door was pushed open, two nosey witched peering in. Your fingers wrapped themselves in Agatha’s hair, mouth falling open before it snapped shut.

“We, uh…” You turned your eyes down to her. She ran her fingers over the skin of your thigh. Your eyelashes fluttered.

“Oh god,” Jen said.

“You should have-“ Lilia said before cutting off without finishing the sentence.

“Locked the door,” you murmured, eyes squeezing shut.

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip. She yearned to do that herself, to feel the thin skin split, your blood coating her tongue. But then your shoulders were shaking and she realised you were trying not to laugh. You tipped, falling off her, burying your face in the pillow to stifle it as best you could. She glowed, the sound of your giggles pure sunshine running through her veins. She reached a hand out, stroking over your hair.

“No wonder you wanted to share beds,” Jen said, “you were having fun while I spent the night being kicked by Lilia.”

“Next time I’ll take Lilia and you can have Agatha,” you said, emerging, bright and joyful, the tears gone. No, now you were practically shining.

“I’m good,” she replied.

You climbed out of the bed and Agatha had to clench her fingers to keep from reaching out and pulling you back into her embrace. You extended a hand to her, lacing your fingers with her and pulling her with more strength than she’d thought you had.

“Breakfast,” you said, “I’m gonna cook you guys so many pancakes.”

Passing Lilia, Agatha in tow, you brushed your fingers over the back of her hand. You tapped Jen on the nose as you passed and you beamed. Agatha found her own lips curling up in a smile, heart thudding in her chest, the monster in her chest purring.

“My coven,” you said, voice pure happiness, “how I love you.”

Maybe the truth was there were no shadows without light. And maybe you were fierce enough to keep her from destroying you. Maybe you, with your wide eyes and easy smile and soft touches, would destroy her. And maybe she was okay with that.

[yunjiluvr]

‧₊˚ Adopting a puppy hybrid is not easy…⋆.*ೃ✧ #1

g!p puppy!yunjin x fem!reader

just some random scenarios n stuff with jen as your puppy hybrid :p

cw in this series: smut, g!p, unprotected sex, jen calls reader mommy, mentions of pregnancy, knotting, breeding, dubcon, size kink, squirting, pussy drunk jen, blowjob, face fucking, bondage

yunjin / reader

Adopting a puppy hybrid is not easy.

Especially when the puppy is as naughty and mischievous as yours.

✮⋆˙

When the puppy needs you while you’re making dinner:

The meal you were cooking for dinner was left to get cold in a pan untouched on the stove, which thankfully, you had already turned off. Somehow your puppy thought it would be okay to have some “fun” with you while you were in the middle of cooking. Next thing you know, the dumb little thing is tugging at your shirt while rutting her clothed bulge against your soft ass and muttering filthy things into her mommy’s ear. Things quickly led to another and you found yourself so lost in pleasure that you completely forgot what you were doing before Yunjin came to bother you.

“Yunjin, puppy… I s-said no…”

*plop* *plop* *plop*

Yunjin doesn’t care. She never cares if you want it or not. When your puppy needs something, she’s going to get it. If she wants to strip you completely of your apron and clothes and pin you up against the kitchen island as her swollen knot breaches the entrance of your leaking hole, then she will.

And that is what she's doing.

“But mommyyy, you feel so good and warm. A-And I can’t stop now… Gotta give you my pups.”

The whiny little thing’s thighs shook as your cunt clenched down on her. Her taller frame was trapping you against the countertop with her right arm wrapped around your waist holding you still, and her left hand around your hickey-covered neck. She had you panting softly as a small puddle of your slick pooled onto the kitchen’s tiled floor beneath you. Yunjin’s fat puppy cock stretched your hole so good it had you drooling and seeing stars. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes when you felt the thick head of her dick press up against your cervix repeatedly. The big cock created a small bulge in your slim tummy, making your head go fuzzy. Your body went limp in her arms, and Yunjin was just using you as her fleshlight at this point.

You shouldn’t have let her use you when she was in rut, because now she can’t get enough of you. It’s not her fault she needs to feel your warm and tight pussy around her aching cock at all times! It’s not her fault all her dumb puppy brain tells her to do is fuck her seed all into your tummy until you get pregnant!

Yunjin was panting next your ear, babbling about how good you felt and how she wanted to make you a real mommy. Your head clouded at the mere thought of her getting you pregnant. Your thoughts were pushed away once you felt her plump knot pop into your slick hole. Yunjn let out a loud moan and you felt her knot swell followed by a series of warm liquid shoot into your womb. She moaned helplessly and buried her face into your neck while rubbing your clit, trying to help you reach your high.

The stimulation caused the tension in your stomach to snap, and you mewled and pathetically came all over your puppy’s dick. Your eyes squeezed shut as your body convulsed against hers. Yunjin’s hand on your clit never slowed however, and you easily went into overstimulation, making the tears in your eyes finally fall. It all felt too good.

“Puppy please… fuck… it’s too much.”

Even though your voice was weak and quiet, Yunjin heard you loud and clear. She still wanted nothing more than to make her mommy feel so good that she can’t think straight, so she ignored your pleas and began to rut into you once more. Your breath hitched as Yunjin’s knot pushed deeper into your sensitive cunt, causing you to shake as you squirted all over her. You remained limp and wrapped in her arms until you came down from your high. Yunjin’s knot eventually went away, but she refused to let you go.

Another hour or so passed of her breeding and knotting you all over the kitchen counter, making you plead for a break, but Yunjin insisted that she continue until she’s sure you’ll get pregnant with every single one of her pups :(

ngl this was kinda bad but I’m still tryna get back into the groove iykwim😭

[deansbite]

✴ ( ᴗ ᴗ 　BACK STAGE SECRETS !

— CONTAINS 18+ mdni!!! | quickie | pwp | p in v | creampie ( kill me now ) | unprotected sex ( WRAP IT UP YOU FUCKIN' IDIOTS!!!!! ) | public sex | smut smut & more smut

PS > @floralscented @jasvtsc @frosttbitessam @deansbeer @beausling my baes who i think look forward to this. this is ass btw dont mind it its a blurb i wrote in like 30 or ish minutes

— SUMMARY jensen gets horny. ( thats quite literally it )

JENSENS hands travelled down your body. every curve and inch of your skin he could touch was beneath his fingertips. his lips finally came around and wrapped around the exposed skin of your shoulder. his hands went lower and finally settled on your hips. his fingers were curved just a little to get a better grip.

“jen..” you groaned under your breath. he let out a breathy chuckle which tickled the skin of your shoulder. he slowly let go of the area with his plump lips.

ever so gently his hand went up to bend you over the very table he had a conversation at with his co-stars. shit, maybe this was more arousing than you would’ve thought.

“y’sure you’ll be quiet?” he whispered, his bearded chin coming into contact with the very same spot he marked up, the spot that was imensely more sensitive. a whine escaped your lips. “guess not.” his free hand roamed upwards and being used as a gag for you.

“i have t’be on stage soon. can’t be found with my dick all nicely sat in ya can i now?” he asked, but the answer was obvious.

he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle the moan when he positioned himself properly to your entrance. he drove his hips forward. it was quick-paced but, you knew it was necessary. he let go of his lip and threw his head back, a breathy — yet quiet groan escaping his lips. he was way better at this than you.

because usually.. you needed more prep to get him to fit as well as he did. no matter how many times you’ve been together intimately, he was huge and split you in two.

but, slowly he increased his pace, his belt clanking ever so slightly in the silent room. your hips kept going back and then hitting the edge of the table, probably causing a couple bruises. but it didn’t matter because the pleasure was unbearable. you were sure if jensens hand wasn’t silencing you — you’d be screaming his fucking name.

he probably knew and took advantage of that, inasmuch as he plunged into you much faster and harder, too. “mmf — hmphgh.” you tried to babble outloud, just for you to forget jensens hand.

“i know, baby. just keep quiet f’me and y’can cum soon.” it was like he could read your fucking mind. but it wasn’t like you could give two fucks with jensen fucking you with his expeditious thrusts in and out. the sound of skin against skin finally registered into your mind — and the wet squelch of your pussy.

“oh, fuck” he moaned into your ear, his hips stuttering, his hand — the one that was busy bruising the shit out of your hip, went forward and his index pressed against your clit. causing more stimulation and more muffled nonsense that escaped you.

the coil that was already threatening to snap — did, and you thought you saw stars. as you came down from your high, you noticed the warm liquid that spilled into you drip down your inner thighs onto your underwear which was shoved down your legs just enough to get access to your cunt.

jensen pulled out, tucking himself back into his pants and fastened his belt. then he helped you get ready — grasping the waistband of your pants and pulling them up alongside your underwear.

once you turned around, still hazy with your activities before, jensen pressed his soft lips against yours, just for a second.

“i can’t wait t’ruin ya when we’re alone.” he winked just as he was called on stage, running his hand through his hair and heading toward the door connected to the stage.

[fluerchive]

⭑｡𖦹° WHERE'S THE TROPHY? ㅤ— ㅤlhs x f.reader wc 0.7k

your boyfriend wins his match for you, just like he said he would.

★ — fluff, college au, kissing, heeseung is whipped, established relationship, football player!lhs, not proofread

‘Hey, I’ll meet you in the bleachers’, you whispered to Yunjin as soon as you heard your professor dismiss the class for the day, a bit early for the university’s football match. Your friend raised her eyebrow in suspicion before giving you a knowing look. ‘Oh right, your lovely boyfriend’s playing’, she chuckled sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her remarks but knew she wasn’t wrong.

Hauling up your bag, you rushed out of the classroom, calculating how much time you had in hand to meet up with Heeseung, before the game started. 10 minutes– you had to run if you wanted to make it in time and the locker was quite far from your classroom. But you couldn’t miss it, knowing how important this match was for him.

‘Wha–!’ you shrieked, feeling a strong pair of arms pulling you into the janitor’s closet. You were about to let out a loud scream when you heard a familiar voice behind you, ‘God, babe, calm down.’ And before you knew it, you found yourself in a small closet, a finger’s length away from… Heeseung.

He took out his phone, switching on the light, his smirking face coming into view. Your stomach jumped a little at his sudden appearance before you realized, ‘Hey! Shouldn’t you be in practice, Lee Heeseung?!’ ‘Seriously, Y/N, I surprise you in a romantic way and all you do is scold me’, he pouted at you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his cute expression before reaching up to peck his lips.

Without missing a beat, Heeseung quickly moved his hands to grip your face, catching you by surprise. You melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him, lips moving in sync. He bit your lower lip, causing you to move away, ‘no, you’ll be late, love’, sternly looking at the boy before you, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. You had the sudden urge to kiss and wipe the grin off his face but you did not want to be the reason he was late to his match.

‘Ok, deal, we’ll continue once I win’, he replied, winking. You scoffed, ‘Aren’t you a confident one, huh?’ ‘Of course, I can’t let my girlfriend let down!’

Fuck, he really needed to make you fall for him all over again every time. ‘Then, let’s get out, you big baby.’

‘Here’, Heeseung extended a bag lying on the corridor when you both got out. You looked at him questioning. ‘My jersey’, he shrugged. ‘My good luck charm’, he bent down to press a quick kiss on your cheek before dashing for the field. You were left there, still reeling on the events.

Good luck charm.

The stadium roared with a wave of cheers as your team scored another goal. From your position in the stands, you could clearly see Heeseung was in his element, already having scored one goal. Only 10 minutes were left and there was no one stopping him today from winning the match.

You grinned, your eyes following him, effortlessly passing the ball, making a quick save. ‘Obviously he had to give you that jersey, lovesick behaviour’, Yunjin rolled her eyes, lazily munching on the popcorn. ‘You just hate seeing people in love, Jen’, you shrugged, knowing damn well you had dragged her with you to watch the match.

‘AND WITH THAT DECELIS UNIVERSITY HAVE WON THE MATCH!’ the voice boomed over the speakers, the entire crowd erupting into screams and cheers. You jumped up from your seat in celebration. The team on the field huddled together in a moment of united victory before you saw Heeseung getting picked up by his members, a proud grin stretched on your face. He deserved to be the mvp of the match.

And in that moment, both of your eyes met from across the field, you waved your arms enthusiastically, moving past the crowds to get down, hoping to wish him face-to-face.

But wait– the boy just hastily got down from his teammate's shoulder making a beeline to where you stood. His eyes sparkling with a new found determination. All you could do was stand stunned, watching him run over to you and pick you up in one swift motion.

You shrieked at his sudden motion, your heart jumping several beats. From around you, you could hear the cheers intensify. Somebody was chanting, 'Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!' and you couldn't help but giggle, pressing a soft but long kiss on his cheek.

'Told you, I'd be the one winning today, for my girl.'

NOTES. hehe hi i kinda dipped for a while but i got this idea while listening to so high school.by taylor ^_^ i really wanna write a long oneshot on jock!heeseung one day haha,,, thanks for reading >///<

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated :) work belongs to @ rainytapestry

[lanawinterscigarettes]

straddling jen check (female r) for kinktober maybe? love ur writing btw 🫶

you're so sweet, thank you sm! and thanks for the kinktober request too <3

Kinktober 2024 Day 9: Jennifer Check being straddled by a fem reader

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, straddling, grinding/partially clothed sex, heavy makeout session, swearing, dom Jen, sub reader, some possessiveness from Jen, could be seen as dubcon in some places but everything was consented to beforehand, mentioned edgin/overstimulation, Jen is a little bit mean in this one I'm not gonna lie (I have no regrets)

You loved being around Jennifer. Her mere presence was like a hard drug to you, and you were nothing more than an addict who couldn't help but want more and more.

It was difficult for you to keep your hands off her in public, and even more so when the two of you were alone. Not that she minded, of course. It fact, she encouraged it.

She was currently pressed close to you on the small bed in your room, her arms wrapped tightly around your neck while you tangled your fingers through her hair. "God, you taste so fucking good," she purred against your mouth before capturing your lips in yet another hungry kiss.

That was actually relatively tame compared to what she usually said. Most of the things she whispered to you when you were all over each other like this would cause a nun to clutch her rosary and faint.

You didn't say anything in response, simply unable due to just how much you found yourself caught up in the moment. It was always so easy for you to forget about everything else when you were with her. She was the most important thing in your life, after all.

"Get on top of me," she suddenly demanded, starting to tug you down on top of her. Never one to say no to her, you obliged, only breaking the kiss for a moment as you got in her lap, your thighs straddling hers.

Jennifer could feel the heat coming from between your legs, and it only made her cunt pulse in anticipation. It didn't help that the both of you were currently stripped down to your underwear.

She placed her hands on your hips, pulling you even closer before meeting your mouth with hers again. "No one else gets to ever touch you like this, do you understand me?"

You felt a shiver of delight going down your spine at her words. Of course you understood her. You'd be crazy to even think about being close to someone who wasn't her like this.

"I never want to see you hanging around with people other than me, got it?" She gave your bottom lip a sharp bite to help put emphasis on her point. "Never."

If you hadn't loved her before, you definitely did now. You hardly even notice that your bottom lip had started to bleed from her bite. "Never," you agreed as you gave her another kiss. She could taste the coppery tang from the little drops of blood on your lip, and you could taste the fruity flavor of her lipgloss.

It was all becoming too much for Jennifer to be able to control herself for much longer. She needed you, and she needed you now.

Gripping onto your hips tightly, she forced you to move them against her, instantly moaning into the kiss when she felt the heat from your core getting closer to hers. Your hands moved to hold onto her shoulders for support, breaking the kiss for the time being so you could catch your breath.

"Tell me that you're mine. Tell me just how much I mean to you." Her near-perfect nails dug into your skin as she spoke, causing you to let out a gasp.

"I- I'm yours," you breathed out, desperately rocking your hips into hers as you tried to gain some friction for your throbbing clit. "You- You mean the absolute world to me. I'm nothing without you."

It was true, and you both knew it. There was no way you could live without Jennifer, not when it was already so difficult for you to breathe whenever she was gone.

Between the two of you, it wasn't long before both of your underwear was almost completely soaked, dampened by your growing arousal. The bed began to creak as you moved against each other, soft pants and moans breaking the silence.

Burying your face into the side of her neck, you peppered the area with needy kisses as you continued to grasp onto her shoulders. She roughly guided your hips' movements, jolts of pleasure wracking your body as your clit brushed against where your underwear was clinging to your wet pussy.

"J- Jen- can't- too much-" You whimpered out, pressing your face further into her neck as you felt your stomach begin to fill with that familiar feeling of warmth that usually came when you were getting close.

She smirked and kept going, starting to move her hips up into yours so the vibrations that were hitting your core would be a lot more prevalent to you. If there was one thing she was good at, it was putting you right on the edge and keeping you there.

It took a lot of begging and pleading from you for her to finally let you finish. When she did, she only gave you a couple minutes break before starting back up again.

Your hands gripped tightly onto her arms as you tried to help ground yourself. "It- it's too much- Jen-"

She merely let out a scoff before leaning down to speak directly into your ear in that low, sultry tone of hers. "What, you didn't think we were done yet, did you? I haven't finished yet, and if I'm not done, then you're not. Now quit squriming."

You could only nod in agreement at her words, unable to protest any further. After all, you were a hopeless addict, and she was your precious drug. And when has an addict ever been known to say no when they hear their vices calling out to them?

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[withlovemark]

“in the middle of smtown?”

synopsis -> it’s jeno’s bday! you’re his wonderful gf who makes every wish come true and not even a concert is going to stop him from getting what he wishes for.

warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism

—

it was your beloved jeno’s! birthday which meant anything he wished for, you’ll make come true. literally.

so when he asks if he could fuck you in the middle of the concert with the entire smtown family hanging around, you had absolutely no choice but to escape in one of the very few unoccupied rooms.

his hands were on your body in an instant, turning you around, ass immediately against him as he hiked your skirt up, pushing your panties to the side — body trappped between the door and your boyfriend’s large frame.

he aligned himself against your tight hole, slowly entering, “fuckkkk, you’re the best fucking girlfriend, you know that?,” he mutters in your ear, jaw going slack as he savors the feeling of your walls clenching around his throbbing cock, sucking him in.

jeno lightly grips your hair, craning your neck towards him for a messy kiss, “j-jeno, your makeup,” you moan against his lips before your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as he bottomed in.

taking his large cock with absolutely no foreplay was a lot of pressure, you could hardly focus with the amount of pain traveling throughout your body.

“who cares baby, i got time,” he grunts, slowly pulling out before slamming against your hole once more, harder. his lips messily working against yours, muffling the moans that were slipping past your lips.

you were still so fucking tight.

jeno’s hands roughly grabbed your hips as he guided your body in and out, completely controlling the pace, “oh goddd y/n, you feel so good,” his deep grunts fill the space and you can’t help the tears that were starting to brim in your eyes at the feeling of being stretched out like this.

“jen-baby it hurts,” you whine, as your hand found comfort on his thigh, squeezing, your eyes tightly shut. your other hand found solace on the door, holding on with all your might.

this only fuels your boyfriend to go faster, rougher, harder, “shhh baby, i know you can take it,” he says, completely lost in the feeling you’re giving him.

jeno continues his thrusts, hands on your hips grabbing so tightly you knew you were gonna have his fingerprints etched on you in purple marks, a reminder of what was happening right now.

he lifts one of your legs up, his strong arm holding you into place as his cock curved into that spot that makes you scream, hitting it over and over again, “that’s right baby, say my name,” he commands, grunting in your ear “let them all know who’s making you feel this good,” as you repeat his name like some kind of mantra. his relentless thrusts never slowing down.

his fingers pinch your sensitive bud and it was enough to topple you over, almost falling onto the ground when your boyfriends hand tightly makes its way around your waist, holding you up by practically slamming you into the door as he continued to chase his own high.

his thrusts gets messier and messier, “i’m c-coming inside.” he doesn’t ask for permission, doesn’t even give you a second to think about it, his hot, white liquid immediately filling you up as he breathily moans by your ear, body heavily resting on yours.

the sound of his manager’s voice snaps him back into place, “where the hell is jeno!? he needs to get on in five minutes!”

jeno turns you around quickly, pulling your panties back up, making sure not a single drop of your shared liquids dripped down your thigh, “keep it there for me okay, baby? gonna make sure i eat it out of you during my next break,” he smirks, a dark gaze in his eyes before kissing you sweetly and making his way out of the room, leaving you breathless and shaky.

you hear his makeup artist yell, “what the hell happened to your makeup!?”

“i spilled water?,” your boyfriend reasons out, making you laugh behind the closed door, awaiting your boyfriend’s return.

—

an: yall already know what this is, had to write something quick for my neo bday series sooo happy birthday cutie jeno! i was gonna say this is my first time writing for jeno but it’s not! (i started his story in the loverboy series)…however it is my first time posting jeno so i hope this is okay! (p.s. if you would like to be tagged for when his story is up, please do let me know >.< thank you!)

[ebodebo]

Tough As Nails—Cowboy Like Me!

thinking about cowboy!simon riley… | part four |

<- previous

The beginning of August usually brings the peak of summer warmth, but unfortunately for you, it seems the end of July supplied the real heat—just not in the ways you had expected. 

Even all of two weeks after your encounter with Sam, you seethed. Harsh anger and heat spread through your being, boding for a tiny little catalyst to ignite your flame. And you weren't the only one feeling the feverish heat.

To say that Simon was angry would be a gross understatement. A storm has been brewing inside him ever since he pulled up to that shitty dive-bar, seeing you sitting on the dirty curb, smudged mascara dripping down your plump cheek, tainting your beautiful face, eyes blood-shot and swollen. Your voice strained and cracked as you said his name, questioning if it was really him. 

The real nail on the coffin was what you had confessed to him in his truck. Sam had insinuated you were a slut. Simon's muscles tightened, and his jaw clenched every time he remembered what that deprived asshole told you. The only reason he didn't flip the truck around and speed back to that dive-bar, grab Sam's sorry-ass out of the seat he sit in, and slam him into the wall, was because you had pleaded he didn't.

He was gracious to you by respecting your wishes, but this ordeal festered in him too much to leave it untouched. Simon was a God-damn machine with no impulse control. A loose-canon. And this canon was ready to blow right through that city-slicking prick's front-fucking-door. 

Which was preciously what he did.

Simon threw himself inside his truck at about eleven at night, a Manila folder tucked gently away in his jacket, not even bothering to strap on his safety belt as he drove to that bastard's house. Simon hoped, prayed, that Sam was asleep so that he could be the one to jerk him out of his peaceful slumber and make him wonder if he was in a nightmare. 

He halted as his truck brushed against the curb in front of his house, turning off his engine and stepping out of the truck. He scoffed as he took in the sight of the house. It was huge, no, enormous. Creamy, muted blue paint coated the paneled front and sides of the house, and a classic picket white fence encased the backyard. 

Two white Range Rovers and a white Porche sat in the driveway, along with two golf carts sequestered to the right side of the house. Simon noticed the Porsche's shit parking job and dirt-covered windows and noted it was Sam's car, just for future reference. 

After his observations, he casually strolled up to the front door, pressing a little bell encased in a palm leaf cover. It didn't take long for Simon to hear the soft pad of feet descending down what he assumed was a staircase. 

The door swung open to reveal a disheveled Sam; clearly, he was asleep. Simon smiled internally. Sam's eyes looked like saucers when he realized it was Simon. His face paled like he had seen a ghost or something.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam spit, perplexed at Simon's presence.

"Came to chat," Simon says cooly. "Preferably outside."

"Fuck no." Sam gnarls. "You need to leave my property."

"Ah." Simon tuts as he reaches into his jacket to grab the nicely tucked-away Manila folder. He carefully opens it and reads the first couple of lines. 

"Ryan Jennings worked for Capitol Guild Investment Firm before it was found he had embezzled a million—"

"Hey, hey. Where the hell did you get that?" Sam quickly supplied, stepping away from the door to try and snatch the folder from Simon's grasp. Simon jerked away from him, holding his finger up as he continued reading. 

"—dollars from the firm's clientele, though no legal action was taken, Jennings was to return all assets, estimating one million dollars, and issue his resignation promptly." Simon neatly closed the folder, eyeing Sam.

"So, as I said," Simon began. "Let's talk outside." Sam sighed deeply before turning to close the door gently.

"I have my resources." Simon casually says, stepping into the grass on the front lawn, with Sam following suit.

"So, what, what do you want? Money?" Sam timidly asks, running his hands through his hair.

Simon lets out a gruff laugh. "Money? You think I want money?" 

"You don't?" Sam questions, unable to believe a man like Simon could be doing this for more than monetary gain.

"You don't talk to her. Ever." Simon roughly says as a sly smirk spreads across Sam's face.

"Is it that good?" Sam smugly asks, placing his hands in his sweatpants pockets.

"The fuck you talkin' about?" Simon cocks his head, narrowing his eyes at Sam. 

Sam shrugs. "Her pussy."

Without warning, Simon lunged forward, his fist aiming straight at Sam's jaw. An immediate stinging pain spread that radiated through his face and head, making him falter back. Blood seeped out of his mouth, and a faint ringing noise could be heard in his ear. But, he quickly gained momentum, his own fist coiling like a spring.

He unexpectedly connected his punch to Simon's face head-on with a swift, decisive motion. Busting his bottom lip, with blood seeping down his chin and jaw. Simon quickly spit out some extra blood onto the grass before grabbing Sam by his shirt. 

"I know guys like you." Simon roughly says, his own blood and spit spurting onto Sam's face. "Pretentious little bastards who only think about themselves." 

He gripped his shirt tighter, making him slightly hover above the grass. "I bet you'd blow yourself if you could." He grits out, forcefully throwing him onto the ground.

"Stay the fuck away from her." Simon wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he turns to go to his truck.

"You know I'm not like that anymore," Sam speaks, making Simon roll his eyes. Simon turns to face Sam, who is still on the ground.

"You can change your name. Run from the city with your tail between your legs, but nothin' can change the greedy fuckin' animal you are." 

With that, Simon turned away and went straight for his truck, leaving Sam to sulk with the ants.

On the drive back to the ranch, Simon regretted not doing more to Sam, but Sam had a worse punishment than Simon releasing his venom on him: living the rest of his life as a nobody with his legacy cloaked in disgrace. 

Simon pulled up in front of his house, hissing as the cold air brushed against his busted lip, as he stepped out of his truck. He pulled open his front door to meet you sitting on the couch in the living room. 

"You haven't been answering your phone." You somberly say from your position on the couch, not noticing his busted lip and bruised face because it was dim where he stood.

"I know." He ducked his head, not moving closer to you, not wanting you to see him so clearly in the light.

"Come here." You pat the cushion next to you, tilting your head as he turns to go to the kitchen instead. You stand, following him to the kitchen, observing him as he fills a glass full of water at the sink, his back to you.

"You should be asleep," He gruffly says, taking a sip of the water, swirling it in his mouth to remove some of the coppery taste, and spitting it into the sink.

"Don't change the subject." You scowl, moving closer to him, bringing your hand to touch his own gently.

"Why won't you look at me?" He takes another sip of water, this time swallowing it.

"Cowboy?" You softly urge, your fingers gently brushing his forearm. He takes a deep sigh, though his lip quirks at your nickname.

"Please look at me." There is a pleading note in your voice. He takes a longer sip of the water, swallowing, before slowly turning to face you. Your eyes widen as you observe the purple bruises covering various parts of his face, his busted lips caked in dry blood, and the blood dripping down his chin and jaw pooling onto his shirt.

"What happened?" You quietly question, raising your hand to brush your fingers along his lip delicately.

"Ah, just some shit." He vaguely says. You narrow your eyes at him, but you see it in his eyes. He was tired. Worn-out. It could wait until tomorrow, you thought.

"Okay. I won't push tonight, but tomorrow, we will talk about it." You affirm, giving his arm a soft squeeze. He nods as you grab his hand, lacing your fingers and dragging him into the bathroom.

"In the meantime, let's get you cleaned up."

You made him sit on the toilet seat as you reached under the sink to grab an emergency kit. You opened the kit and grabbed some alcohol and some gauze. 

"Si, you need stitches." You say, observing a muscle of his lip sticking out.

"You can do it." He assures, looking up at you. 

"Last time I checked, I don't have a medical degree." You laugh out.

"It's easy. Just need some dental floss and a needle." He reaches into the kit and grabs a needle, bending it into an arc, and a pack of dental floss. "Learned it in the military."

"You were in the military?" You question washing your hands before taking the needle and cleaning it with some alcohol to sterilize it. 

"Course I was." You smiled down at him as you wiped his lip with some alcohol.

"How long?" You ask, throwing away the cotton pad.

"Long time." He vaguely answers with a slight smile.

"You're always so vague." You roll your eyes as you step between his legs, bringing your hand up to grip under his chin, tilting it up slightly. He brought his hands to rest on the sides of your thighs, lightly massaging the fat.

You hold the sides of his lips together, carefully suturing the skin back together. You had no idea what you were doing, but Simon didn't say anything, so you assumed you were doing alright. 

Simon flinched as the needle pierced his skin, coming in and out of his lip. His eyes fell shut as you worked, occasionally twitching, his hands still kneading your thighs. 

Once you finished, you cleaned up the area, put away the kit, and threw away the needle. 

"Forgot somethin.'" Simon huffed, still sitting on the toilet seat. You raised your brow, giving him a curious look.

"What?" You question, leaning against the counter facing him, your hands on your hips.

He pressed his pointer fingers to his lip, slightly puckering them. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you let out a laugh, walking over to him and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I could use some more." His lips form a smirk, just beckoning you.

"Ya, I bet you could."

a/n: idk why i include an authors note bc i literally don’t say anything interesting

divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Rio coming into the house throwing her shawl and knife to the couch:: Great divine mother!

Agatha peeking her head around the door from the kitchen: Interesting day?

Rio: Some fucking weird purple alien decided to snap and kill half of the universe! Now I’m up to my neck in bodies and they don’t know if they’re dead or not and neither do I, normally I’m so composed but there’s superhero’s in there too and they’re really egotistical and stupid

Agatha: So what now?

Rio: I’m going to sit down and try to relax for a few hours before going back to work

Agatha: Great, don’t worry baby everything will be fine

Rio: Are you not concerned that half the universe is gone darling?

Agatha: I’m still here, so no not really, I hope Jen disappeared

5 years later

Rio storming through the door: You won’t fucking believe this!

Agatha: If you’re going to say that half the universe is back, then yeah I know, I went to Jen’s store and she was in there seething with rage about what I’d done so I left quickly before she found out it was me

[child-of-the-danube]

I'm still in my Lilia brain rot era and I keep thinking about her and Agatha, and their dynamic and parallels.

Like, Agatha is a dick to everyone from the start, even Teen, but she's extremely chill and even, for her being who she is, weirdly respectful towards Lilia. Maybe it's because of the age, maybe it's because Lilia was the only one to show she still had true power when they first met, maybe it's because they share experience and persecution the younger ones don't truly understand, maybe Agatha just has a soft spot for those who are very clearly outcasts and weirdos.

The only sting at Lilia I can recall is calling her "Dory" in the last trial lmao

She never once questions or mocks her gaps. Hell, she said "we came to the right place" AFTER she saw Lilia scream her head off in ep2 over, to them, nothing. "Hmm, this bitch a lil bonkers, but that's exactly what I like and need :)"

She told Lilia that she couldn't take her power unless she's blasted with it - something she was certainly aiming for if the door didn't open and that ended up saving them in ep2 when she was using her ye old technique of being a menace. She may have told it to her only to get her in, but that's a big minus to her plan B.

When everyone had their hallucinations, Agatha didn't mock Lilia when she was, once again, "being weird". She believed her and reassured her in a soft tone that it was ok.

One interaction I found really funny is in ep3 when Teen asks about a sous vide machine and Agatha turns to Lilia with that "What the fuck is that? That wasn't around in our time" look

Usually when one of them starts spewing wisdom, someone will give a snarky remark, usually Agatha, but when they were talking about summoning a new green witch, Agatha let Lilia speak and was the only one who, at least somewhat, listened to her advice (50/50 but still haha). It was Lilia after all who was the first one to, tho reluctantly, agree to Agatha's idea of summoning a back up green witch.

Also the way Agatha looks at Lilia when she calls Jen out for giving Sharon only one dose of antidote when she had two glasses of wine. It's just so "mmm 😈 I like this one"

Agatha's first choice for "who could possibly play piano" wasn't Alice. Ya know the daughter of a rock goddess who would be the most logical choice. It was Lilia and I find that sweet and a lil funny too.

Lilia didn't tell Agatha's Salem story with judgement, even if she said "when Agatha killed her original coven". It was delivered as mere fact to explain the story.

Then when Evanora showed up and Lilia looks angry and almost disgusted at what she's hearing her say to Agatha. Even after Alice's death, she didn't jump on Agatha's back and accuse her. She let her be cause she was clearly distraught.

Agatha "I'm not drinking the poison. You can suffer but I won't!" Harkness jumped on Lilia and covered her with her own body in the latest episode when the sword was about to impale her. And then she let her do her magic even if it didn't seem to work as the ceiling was still falling and even if she thought tarot was bullshit. She trusted she knew what she was doing.

And the look they give eachother when Lilia reveals Rio is Death. Lilia's face reads as terrified, but more than terrified, she seems to have a moment of compassion. It's the look of "How deeply fucked must your life have been that the only one that ever showed you love and kindness is the one who everyone else sees as the bringer of pain?". Death broke Lilia's heart many a time, but in that moment she understood, she broke Agatha's heart too in even worse ways.

AGATHA LIKED HER! SHE LIKED HER FROM THE START AND RESPECTED HER! AND LILIA LIKED HER TOO, DESPITE THE INITIAL SUSPICIONS!!!

I need to know what her reaction to finding out Lilia sacrificed herself to kill the threat that was specifically after her will be. Will she brush it off and pretend she doesn't care to keep appearing stern and emotionless or will this be the thing that finally makes her realise people care for her? Cause Agatha has never had anyone, except literal Death, show her kindness, much less sacrifice themselves so she could keep living. And I find it beautifully poetic that the one other person Death has known well for centuries, who Death has acknowledged by name in that coven, was the one to do that.

Again, I'm aware that this is just my brain rot speaking, but Lilia was truly the MVP. She's the one with wisdom, the biggest experience, the one with seemingly most patience, the hype man ("Jennifer, look what you did", "It was all for you", "Don't worry, baby. We're cool"). Her trial is the only one where the rest was in fact not needed and was of no help. Actually, all they did was make it worse. The first three trials depended on teamwork. Lilia's was truly solvable ONLY by Lilia.

Anyways, Lilia mentally adopted Agatha and realised she truly was part of her coven and therefore worth dying for and I will never fucking recover 💔💔😭😭

[writtenbyan-aries]

Colby smut??

Summary: reader flips their humanity switch off after a tragic event and Colby works to get her back.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of death, reader loses best friend, blood, blood drinking, compulsion, bitchy!reader, drinking, kissing, hair pulling, choking, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie, general filth

Word Count: 5.5k | unedited

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Your watery eyes scanned over the banquet hall, your head nodding with each person that comes up to pay their respects to you for the recent loss.

“Loaded question.. but..” Colby sits down next to you, “Are you okay?”

You sniffle, nodding as you look at him, “Yeah, yeah. I just… I think I’ve had enough of this for one day.” You stand up, making your way to the parents of your best friend, “Hey.. guys..”

“Y/n.” Jen, Raya’s mom sighs, “Thank you..” she pulls you into a hug, squeezing tight, “Thank you for everything you’ve done today, you are family to us, and I just.. if you need anything please don’t hesitate to call us or stop by.”

“Thank you, and same for you and Jason. Raya was...” You sigh, fighting back tears, “She was.. everything to be. The best person I could have ever had in my life. I loved her like she was my own sister.”

You feel Jen’s body jolt with her sobs and she steps back, “You were the best person she could have had in her life, too.” She rubs your cheek and you turn to give her father, Jason, a hug.

“You were good to her, kid. I’m so happy you stuck around with us.”

You smile and nod, “Me too.”

You turn around, Colby tilting his head slightly as you walk back over to him.

Colby was your best friend, too. Well, you were more than friends but not really official lovers.

“I think, I’m going home.” You pick your jacket up from your chair and Colby stands up, “Do you want me to drive you home?”

“No.” You shake your head as you put your coat on, “I need to walk home. I think the time to reflect on everything will be good for me.” You flick your hair out and sigh, “Tell Sam and everyone I said bye.”

“Okay.” Colby nods, “If you need-“

“I can handle myself, Colbs.” You shoot him a smile and turn to leave.

As soon as you walk out, the cool air hits you and your demeanor changes, and you push yourself into step one of your plan - finding somewhere no one will find you.

You walk down the street, hands in your pockets as you think about everything today, yesterday, last week.

Raya Tylers. Beloved best friend and daughter, has died.

You couldn’t help but blame yourself, hate yourself for allowing her death to happen, but as Colby keeps saying, it didn’t have anything to do with you. There isn’t anything you could have done to help her.

You walk across the street, moving in the opposite direction of your house.

You only had a short time to do this because once Colby and the others showed up at your house to find you no where do be found, the search party would ensue.

You stood at the tree line, listening behind you for anything- anyone, and nothing. You vamp through the trees, coming to a stop when everything you’ve been putting off hits you like a ton of bricks.

You gasp for air, bending down as you fight back the sobbing but you can’t control it. Gasps and sniffles fill the dark air as you let out everything.

You fall back, leaning up against the tree, hands covering your face as you feel the mascara burn your crying eyes.

You tilt your head back, staring up at the space through the dead tree at the night sky.

“Fuck.” You sniffle, “God..damn it.”

You get up, wiping your face as best you can before taking a few deep breathes to try and calm down. Raya was the first friend you made when you came to this tiny little town. She was there for you when you first turned, she wasn’t afraid of you.

She was there for you through everything, high school, your mom moving away. Your drunken nights when you couldn’t stop going on and on about Colby.

Colby was a vampire, too. You knew he knew how you felt, you just had too much on your plate at the time to add a relationship, and he understood that.

Your head was filled with so much guilt, remorse, hatred. You felt like you were spinning. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, you knew life wasn’t going to be the same without her and you didn’t want anything to do with it.

You took one last breath before closing your eyes, and everything shifted.

You opened your eyes and you looked around, “Huh.” You laugh slightly, “Thought that would be a lot more dramatic.”

You take a step, stopping when you hear the distant sound of campers within the same woods as you, “Noooo, give it back, Will!”

“I think you’ve had enough, Marcy.”

“My name.. is Marissa.”

“Snack time.” You smirk to yourself and vamp through the trees, stopping when you reach the chair the girl is sitting on.

“Whoa!” The guy jumps up, pointing to you, “Where did you come from?”

“Oh me?” You laugh, looking down at the girl staring up at you with a frightened look on her face. The guy laughs slightly, “Yeah, yeah you.”

“Just passing by.” You lean down, staring the girl in the eyes, “You are going to sit still for me and you’re not going to make a peep, got it?”

She nods and you tilt your head up to look at the guy, “And you-“

“What did you- no. Fuck this.” He takes off running and you sigh as you stand up, “Why do they already do that?” You speed and catch up to him, holding him by the shoulders as you look into his eyes, “Go back to your campsite, don’t make a sound.”

He turns, walking back to his camp in silence.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes as you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out and sigh as you answer it, “I’m fine, Colby. Okay? You don’t need to check on me every two minutes.”

You walk back to the camp, smirking as you see the guy and girl sitting in their chairs staring at you.

“Well, you aren’t here and you said you were coming here, so that’s kind of.. weird.” Colby pauses, but speaks when you don’t, “What are y-where are you?”

“I’m not home. Simple as that, now if you’ll excuse me. I have a dinner date.” You pull the phone away and right as you’re about to hang up, Colby’s words cause your head to tilt.

“You turned it off.”

You bring the phone back up to your ear and you let out a sigh, “Wow, pretty and smart, look at you go.”

“Why?”

“I gotta go.” You hang up and tuck your phone back into your pocket before walking up to the girl, “Marissa, is it?” You bend down in front of her, “I’m just gonna take a little bite. Hope that’s okay.”

You stand up, “I mean, of course it is, right?” You walk around and bend down, sinking your fangs into her neck.

It wasn’t long until her body fell forward, lying limp on the ground by the fire. You wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb, licking the blood from it as you walk over to the guy, “I never got your name, hmm. Too bad I don’t really care.”

You sink your fangs into his neck, finishing him off within a matter of seconds before standing up.

You push his body back into his chair and roll your eyes as your phone once again vibrates repeatedly.

You pull it out, watching the screen go from Colby’s incoming call to your lock screen with a bunch of texts from your so called friends.

Colby: please tell me you didn’t turn it off

Sam: Y/n, please. Colby is worried about you.

Colby: just remember that I do care about you

You tap on Colby’s texts, sighing as you type, You keep pushing me and these two bodies won’t be the last ones they find in the woods.

“Oops.” You purse your lips, “Guess I just blew my location.” You look at the two bodies, “It’s been swell, guys. But, I gotta run.”

Colby texts back, but I can’t live without you. Please y/n, don’t do this, you don’t have to.

You stare at the screen, typing out a quick text before hitting send, then die.

You turn your phone off and take off before anyone can catch up to you.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

“Another one please.”

The bartender looks from your empty glass then back up to you, “I don’t think I can do that.”

“And.. why not?” You scoff, “Do I really seem that drunk to you?” You tilt your head, “Really, I want your answer to that.”

“You’ve had… a lot, Miss. I just-“

“Look.” You lean in, sighing as you look up at him, “I just buried my best friend a few hours ago because of something that could have probably been easily avoided, but that’s not the point. The point is, I just want to drink, and drink, and drink and you..” You wave your finger at him, “Mr. Bartender, are getting in the way of that, and I’d really prefer if you weren’t, so why don’t you just do you job.. and get me another drink.”

He sighs and nods, “Coming right up.”

“Thank you. See, that wasn’t so hard.” You roll your eyes and look around. You spot a guy hanging over the banister, but it wasn’t his looks that caught your attention, it was the fact that you knew his blood probably tasted so good.

“Thank you.” You huff as you snatch your glass from the bar and stand up. You make your way up the steps, your eyes staying on his, just like his were on you.

You walk up next to him and he turns, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this moment right here?”

You smirk, taking a sip through your straw, “Seen you looking at me. What? Didn’t expect me to be this forward?”

He shakes his head, “No, not really. Girls from around here aren’t like that. Always playing hard to get.”

“Mm.” You shrug, “Well, lucky for you.. I’m not from here. I’m from a little town, about an hour and a half away. Nothing fancy.”

“Tiegen Mills?” He raises a brow, “Isn’t that place crawling with supernatural?”

“Those are all just myths..” you raise your brows, “Your name?”

“Oh, Zander.” He extends his hand out and you take it, nodding your head, “Serina, and yes. Tiegen Mills.” You lean in, inhaling his scent, “You smell delicious.”

He chuckles, “Oh, well, thanks. It’s a new cologne I-“

“I wasn’t talking about that, Zander.” You smirk, staring into his eyes, “Follow me.”

He takes your hand into his and you lead him to a small supply room, pushing him in before you follow.

“What.. did you mean then?” He asks with a nervous chuckle and you walk up to him, smirking in the dim lighting, “I meant the blood coursing through those veins of yours.”

You lick your lips, cutting him off from speaking, “Don’t move, don’t make a sound. Just let me have a taste.”

You waste no time sinking your teeth into his neck, sucking and pulling the blood from punctured veins.

You spin him around, pushing him against the wall as you continue to siphon.

You hear the door open and you instantly know who is standing there, “What did I say?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure you’re okay.”

You look over at Colby, picking the blood from your lips, “How’d you find me?” You watch as Colby steps in, sighing as he closes the door, “Can you let your little friend go before we have this conversation?”

“What? You don’t want any?” You smirk, pulling away from the guy standing there in silence, “Come on, it’s so good.”

“I’m fine.” Colby shakes his head, “Let him go, and we can go somewhere to talk.”

“Talk?” You scoff, “I don’t need to talk. I’m doing just fine.”

“Are you?”

You squint your eyes at him, “Yeah, Colby. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun.” You turn back to finish your job and you feel a hands on your waist before your thrown back into the wall.

“What the fuck?” You watch as Colby bites his wrist and pushes it to Zander’s lips. Once he pulls his wrist away, he wipes off his neck and looks into his eyes, “You won’t remember any of this. You’ll forget her. Go home.”

Zander walks away, leaving you in the supply closet alone with Colby.

“Again. What the fuck, Colby?” You look at him and he shrugs, “You’re getting sloppy, y/n. Coming to a busy club with multiple potential witnesses?” He scoffs, “Thought you were better than this.”

“Fuck you. I don’t need a babysitter. I was going to heal him, well.” You smirk, “That was until you barged in and interrupted my moment.”

“You were going to kill him.” Colby states and you laugh, “Yeah.” You breathe out, “I was.” You glance towards the door, “Where’s your backup partner, Sam? He come along, too?”

Colby shrugs and you groan, “Let’s just get down to it. Are you guys here to stake me? Shoot me with a tranquilizer to drag me back home and drain me until I’m ready to turn everything that you want me to feel back on?”

He raises his brows, “God, you are bitchy when you’re like this.”

You smile, “That’s gotta be one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“Yeah, okay.” He rolls his eyes, “so where you headed next? You’re just going to leave everything and everyone behind like they don’t mean anything?”

You purse your lip, staring at him like he should already know the answer to that question, “Um, yeah pretty much. Do I need to spell it out for you or something?”

He clenches his jaw and you smirk, “Aw.” You tilt your head, “Am I finally getting under that skin or yours?”

“No you’re just pissing me off.”

“Well.. then.. why don’t we go somewhere else and take care of that?” You walk up to him, “I’ve always liked you, Colby. Well.” You scoff, “That was until you decided to ruin my plan of running away from everything.”

“See, you know what you’re doing, so why can’t you just-“

“I never said I didn’t? God, Colby. I turned off my humanity. I didn’t become stupid.” You walk over to the door and Colby vamps over to stand in between you and your only exit route, “You need to flip it back on.”

“Or what?” You raise your brows, “You’re going to leave me? Please, that would just be easier on m-“

Colby cuts you off with a kiss - a rough, kiss.

He pushes you back into the wall, his teeth sinking into your lower lip, “Is this what you want?” He leans back as his hands move to undo your jeans, “For me to fuck your humanity back into you?”

You bite your lip, “I mean.. you can try, but I’m telling you right now, it’s going to take a lot more than this one time to even get me to budge.”

“We got all the time in the world, y/n.”

His lips crash back onto yours as you work to undo his belt, followed by his jeans. You switch to your own, kicking them off as he pushes his down, “This isn’t-“

“Shut up.” You cut him off by pulling him back in for a kiss. You jump up, his arms catching your legs and you feel the rip of his cock slide into you. You tilt your head back, a moan leaving your lips as he thrusts in fully.

Your fingers slip under the collar of his jacket and your nails dig into his skin, “Fuck, Colby. Just like that.”

You look down at him, your jaw staying open as your eyes lock onto his. He groans lowly, his hand pressing into the wall by your head, “Not how I wanted to do this, y/n.”

“Can you just.. not talk for five minutes.” You huff as you slide your hand up to the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling hard has he rails into you from below.

Colby clenches his jaw, his fingers digging into your hip hard, “Fuck.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” You smirk as your head rests back against the wall, “Feels so fucking good.”

Colby leans in, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking, which warns more moans from you, “Should have done this sooner, Colbs.” You look down at him with a smirk, “You know what you’re doing.”

“Flip it back on and we can do anything you want.”

“You’ll do it anyway.” You smirk, “I know how much you like me.”

“And I know how much you like me.” He tilts his head, his thrusts coming to a stop, “Why won’t you turn it back on?”

“Can’t this wait?” You glance down, “Kind of in the middle of something.” You smirk, “I mean, doesn’t really matter anyway, you stop now and I’m sure I can find some other-“

In one swift motion, you’re on your back on the floor, Colby railing into you once again.

You moan loudly, your legs tightening around his waist, “Jealous?”

“I just hate you using shit against me when you clearly know how I feel.” He crashes his lips onto yours, muffling your moans with his own, “Just stop this. Come home to me.”

You don’t say anything. You just squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm rolls, your moans becoming louder as his thrusts guide you through.

Colby finishes after, his cock twitching inside of you as you lay there breathing heavy.

He grabs your chin, turning your head towards him, “I don’t want to have to hurt you, y/n.”

“So then don’t. Just accept that this is who I am now?” You sit up as he moves off of you, standing up to put your pants back on, “Literally not that hard.”

Colby scoffs, following it up with a laugh, “If you had your humanity, you’d know that this is hell for me, y/n.”

“So why didn’t you say anything sooner? You know, maybe this is your fault. Did you ever think about that? Maybe if I had you telling me how much you actually loved me and didn’t just treat me like a friend most of the time, maybe this could have been avoided.”

“Yeah because this is everyone else’s fault but your own.” Colby buckles his belt, “No one forced you to turn it off. No one-“

“Look, this has been a great rendezvous, and all.. but I’ve clearly made up my mind, and if you can’t accept that.. than..” you shrug, “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Colby walks up to you, his hands on your hips, “Don’t do this to me. Please. Im sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, believe me, I should have. I shouldn’t have pushed those feelings down.”

You bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, giving him a smile before twisting his head. You drop his body to the ground, along with your smile and step over it.

You open the door, looking to your left to see Sam push himself up off the banister.

You close the door and look back at him with a smirk, “He’ll wake up in a few hours.”

You see Sam’s expression change into a form of worry and then you were gone.

Onto the next place.

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A few days later, you decided to turn your phone on again. Honestly, you were having too much fun to even remember you turned it off to begin with.

You see a bunch of old texts flowing in, missed called and what not.

You smirk as you read over Colby’s recent text, If you think snapping my neck is going to stop me from helping you, you’re mistaken.

You roll your eyes, tossing your phone onto the bed of your hotel room. You look at the girl sitting frightened in your chair, unable to move or speak.

You bend down, “Answer my questions and only my questions.”

She nods and you tilt your head, “What’s your name?”

“Hannah.”

“Hannah.” You repeat as you brush her hair away from her neck, “How old are you?” You glance back up at her from the pulsing vein in her neck.

“Twenty eight.”

“Twenty eight. Hmm. You have so much life ahead of you.” You smirk, “I’ll tell you what. You give me what I want, and since I’m not a total monster, I’ll let you go?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” You lean forward, biting into her neck. You groan at the taste of her blood hitting your tongue, “You taste.. so good, Hannah.”

You feel her body twitch and tense under your grip and you lean back, “Feel okay?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” As you lean in, a knock on the door stops you from continuing and you sigh, “I swear to god.”

“Open up.” Colby’s voice rings through your ears, “Or I’ll bust the door down.”

“Can’t you just take a fucking hint?” You stand up, biting into your wrist and pressing it to Hannah’s lips, “God, breaking your neck wasn’t enough?”

“You read my text, so you should know my answer to that, sweetheart.”

You scoff, pulling Hannah to her feet, “Forget everything that happened here.” You push her towards the door, “Go away.”

She walks to the door and leaves. Colby stops it from shutting and walks in, “Wow. Nice room.”

“Listen, unless you came here to..” you tilt your head, bringing you hands up to apply air quotes, “Fuck the humanity back into me..” you shake your head, dropping your hands, “You can go.”

Colby shrugs, lifting his shirt from his body, “If you say so.”

You vamp to him, your hands sliding up his bare torso, “You really are hot.” You look up at him and he smirks, “Yeah, so are you.”

He goes in for a kiss but you push him back, “This is too easy. What trick are you trying to pull?”

He shrugs, “No tricks, y/n. If you want to be this person, I can live with it.”

“This seems too easy. Seriously, Colby. If I find out you’re trying to pull something, I’ll literally kill you.”

He chuckles, “Yeah yeah, not like you haven’t tried before.” He walks over to you, pushing you back onto the bed, “Just shut up and let me fuck you.”

You raise your brows, biting onto your lip as he crawls up your body. He pulls your shirt up with his teeth before kissing over your bare skin.

Your breath hitches as he bites down and you pull him up to kiss him.

He pushes down your sweats and you kick them off as quickly as you can while he pushes down his pants, “Can’t stop thinking about you.”

“In a sex way, or you’re worried about me way?”

“Both.” He kisses back your jaw and reaches down to draw circles over your clit, “You just felt so good around me yesterday, had to find you for more.”

“Mm.” You smirk, “A part of me doesn’t believe you.”

“Yeah?” Colby moves down your body, lifting your legs to lay over his shoulders, “Let me just.. spell it out for you then.”

You watch as his head dips down between your thighs, gasping out as his tongue swirls around your clit, “Fuck.”

Your fingers lace through his hair, tugging as he makes his way down to slip his tongue inside of you.

You moan loudly as your back arches off the bed, “Fuuuck, Colby. So fucking good.”

He looks up at you and your lips part, panting as his tongue works to get you to believe him.

Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself coming undone, “Shit, shit.” You pull his hair harder, moaning out louder as he guides you through your high before pulling away.

He crawls up, but you quickly flip him over to straddle him. Your brows furrow and your nails dig into his chest as you sink down onto him, quickly getting into a rhythm of bouncing your hips.

His hands grip your waist and his lip pulls between his teeth as he groans deeply, “Fuck, baby. Just like that.”

You look down at him, “Don’t do that. I don’t want you getting attached.” You shake your head, tilting it as you moan out, “I’m still pissed at you.”

“That’s fine, you can be pissed at me all you want. Doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.” His grip tightens, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m relentless when it comes to you.”

“No, you just don’t want me dropping bodies and having our secret discovered.” You roll your eyes, “Please.”

Colby thrusts upward, earning a whine from your lips, “Imagine how good this would be if you had your emotions back on, y/n.”

“I don’t want to imagine anything, Colby.” You slam your hips down, “Fuck, I’m so close again.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just allows you to fuck yourself on him.

“Fuck, fuck.” You tilt your head back, moaning loudly as your walls squeeze around him. Your nails drag down his chest as you roll your hips, guiding yourself through your own high.

“My turn.” Colby moves you onto the bed, flipping you over onto your stomach. He pulls your hips up, instantly sliding back into you.

You grip the blanket beneath you, moaning out as his thrusts aren’t anywhere close to being gentle.

His hand comes down with a hard crack to your ass and you moan out, “Again.”

He chuckles lowly and doesn’t again, same spot, which earns a whimper from you, “Fuck, Colby.”

His hand slides up into your hair, gripping tightly to pull your head back. He leans forward, looking down at you, “What will it take for you to give up, turn it back on? Hmm.”

You roll your eyes, averting your stare away from him, “Why won’t you just give up already?”

“Because.” He leans down to whisper into your ear, “I love you, and I want nothing more than a life with you.”

You scoff, throwing your hips back to meet his, “Shut up.”

He sighs, moving back to grip both of your hips with his hands, “It’ll be rough at first but I promise to be there.”

“Mhm.” You bite down on your lip, fighting back giving him any satisfaction through your moans. He pulls you back to meet each of his thrusts, making it harder for you to continue fighting.

“Just flip it back, baby.”

“Colby.”

“C’mon. We can have a good life.”

You bend down, burying your face into the bed to moan. Your curses are muffled by the thick comforter and soon enough you feel Colby twitch inside, coating your walls with his cum.

He pulls out and flops down next to you.

You lay down and look over at him, “We can have a good life just how it is. No strings attached. You not trying to make me go back to the hellhole of a town.”

“You don’t want to face that Raya is gone. I get that. But having your humanity off isn’t helping anyone, y/n.”

You stare at him, “It’s helping me, and aren’t I the most important person in my life?”

“Well yeah, but-“

“Then problem solved. I’m happy now.” You move to stand up, “I’m going for a shower. You gonna be here when I get out?”

“Do you want me to be?” He sits up and you shrug, “I don’t really care what you do, Colby.” You walk into the bathroom and close the door.

After your shower, you walk back out, “You’re still here. I am not surprised at all.” You roll your eyes and walk over to sit down on the bed.

“I told you, I’m relentless.” Colby chuckles and sits up from laying down, “I care about you. Even if you told me to die. Even if you snapped my neck. I’m not giving up on you.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You glance back at him as you stand up to put your sweats back on, “Because I haven’t slept all night and I could really use some sleep.”

“Fine. Take a nap.” Colby motions to the bed as he lays back down and you sigh, putting on your shirt before you sit back down, “Whatever.”

You lay down and stare at the wall, taking a few deep breathes before you fall asleep.

“Hey wait up.”

You stop, running around to see Raya running towards you, “Hey! I thought you weren’t coming back for another few days.” You pull her in for a hug, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you. The trip was boring, and I missed my best friend.” She leans back, “Please promise me you won’t turn off your humanity.”

“Why would I do that?” You tilt your head, giving her a laugh, “That’s the worst thing a vampire can do.”

“I know, but just in case anything happens to me, I don’t need you going off the rails and making everyone’s life hell.” She raises her brows, “Please.”

You shake your head, “Why are you all of a sudden worrying about that? What’s going to happen to you?”

“I’m going to die, y/n, and I need you to be okay with that and know that it wasn’t your fault.”

You step back, “Stop it.” She reaches out for you but you slap her hand away, “You’re not here.” She nods, “I am. I’m always with you, but not if you’re not you.”

“Colby!” You scream, “Get out of my head!”

You snap awake, pushing him away from you hard. He falls off the bed and to the floor, slowly standing up, “You know it’s what she would have wanted. She wouldn’t be happy with you right now.”

“She’s dead. Colby.” You swing your legs off of the bed, “She isn’t coming back.”

“Exactly. She isn’t coming back! Why do you want to block out the memories of her? Because you can’t handle a little pain? Y/n, I’ve seen you pull a wooden stake out of your stomach without flinching.”

“That. No. This isn’t the same as that.” You stand up, “You fucking lied to me. You said you didn’t have a trick and yet you fucking lied to me.”

You grab the chair next to you and smash it, leaving only a wooden leg in your hand, “I should have never fucking trusted you.”

You raise your arms and Colby knocks your legs out from under you, pinning you down on the floor, “Stop. Fighting it. Let the feelings in.”

“Get. Off. Of. Me.” You say through gritted teeth, “Now!”

“No.” Colby shakes his head and moves to grab your head.

“So.. you like y/n?” Raya teases Colby, “You know she likes you too right? I mean, you guys wouldn’t flirt like you do if there wasn’t something between you guys, right?”

Colby nods, smiling a big smile, “Yeah. Yeah. I just know she has a lot on her plate right now. Her mom leaving, her college studies.” He shrugs, “I’m here for her though. She knows it.”

Raya laughs, shaking her head, “God I hope I get to see the two of you get married.”

“Whoa, hey. We haven’t even had a first date yet.” Colby laughs and she smiles, “Just man up and ask her already. You know she’ll say yes.”

“What-“ you blink, “No, let me see her again!” You grab Colby’s head, “Let me see her again!”

“Y/n.. I-“

“Don’t. Don’t even say you can’t because I know there’s more. Colby, please.” Your voice breaks and you feel tears welling up in your eyes, “P-please.”

“Let it in. Y/n. I’m right here.” Colby cups your cheek and you close your eyes, flipping the switch.

You burst into tears, falling into him as everything you’ve pushed off floods in like a dam bursting. You can’t even speak, your sobs take over and Colby holds onto you tight, “I got you, sweetheart.”

His hand rubs up and down your back as you sob against his chest, “I-I’m so-so sor-ry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Colby kisses your head, “I get it. If anything were to happen to you.. I’d flip it off, too.”

You look up at him, “Thank you.. for bringing me back..” you sniffle, “I’m sorry I put you through hell.. and-and broke your neck and I-“

You sob again and Colby chuckles slightly, “It’s fine. It’s fine. Just relax. Deep breathes.” He presses a kiss to your head, “I’ll do anything for you. I love you.”

“E-even after ev-“

“Even after everything.”

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Sorry for making you guys wait! I hope this made up for it a little bit! I love you all sooo much! Thank you for reading! 🖤 I’ll catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[inkedtae]

xii. rotten angelcake ⇾ kth. [M]

⎡She’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten⎤

chapter twelve : in the wings⤑ ❝ late to the theatre, you're caught in taehyung’s grip. pleasure and power collide and you find yourself in an interesting position. ❞

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, 18+

⌁ word count; 9.3k

⌁ warnings; dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, daddy kink, praise kink, corruption kink, bdsm themes, dirty talk, exhibitionism, use of sex toy, overstimulation, a bit of cum play, pussy spanking, teasing, begging

⌁ 🎧 now playing... ✩

» prefer ao3? keep reading here

ও huge thanks to jen ( @itaeewon ) for the amazing new banner and a very special thanks to jen ( @anobodyslove ) for beta-reading this in such short notice! i really appreciate it !

You’re late.

And, despite the teasing texts from Taehyung, you swear it’s not your fault.

Whether it be her general dislike towards you or your impromptu day off last week, Marina has been bitchier than usual. She has found new ways to torture you, trading her normal tactics of endless to-do lists for assigning useless work instead. Yesterday, she ordered you to fill out countless forms, only to remember that they were out of circulation once the task was completed. She then forced you to shred them while she “supervised” with a gloating smirk. 

This morning she had you running around the building looking for a certain data specialist for an important meeting. She had promised attendance to the interns. After hours of questions and several flights of stairs, you found out he had quit a month ago. You missed the meeting and needed to stay after work to digitise the minutes and send copies to the department managers.

Frustrated and exhausted, Taehyung’s suggestion returns in quiet echoes. It’s not as though you’re above quitting. It’s been your goal since your first day. This job was only meant to be temporary anyway. But, if you quit now, with less than three months of experience at a highly recognised company, all your work would be insignificant. More than that, all the crap you’ve endured thus far will be for nothing. Three months is not nearly enough credible experience to transfer to other jobs. You might be able to spin it in your favour during an interview, but you doubt your resume will even be selected.

Pushing the thought away, you secure your hair back in a low, loose bun with another pin, then reach for the hairspray. You’ve gone back and forth too much for someone in a rush. But it’s your first time going to the opera or ballet (you’re not really sure what Taehyung had said and don’t have the time to scroll through messages to confirm). You just want to make a good impression on his colleagues.

That is the only reason he invited you, you remind yourself. This is not a date.

Swarovski diamonds sparkle on your deep-necked dress. You tug at the short hem near your mid-thighs and adjust the edges of the plunging bust. You thought the lace would make you itchy, but find it is lined with soft silk. Elegant and creme-white, it would  resemble a wedding dress if it was longer, you can’t help noticing.

Rolling your eyes at the thought, you grab the matching earrings Taehyung had bought you– a pair of silver wings at the base with a dangling tassel of diamonds. He has impeccable taste. You almost wish he could style and dress you daily, like his personal doll.

A shiver runs down your spine. Your legs press together.

Deep breath in— your chest fills, eyes shut— deep breath out.

“You must be Taehyung!”

You hear Mrs Chu exclaim, eyes snapping open. What the fuck is he doing up here? You told him you’d be down soon, not even a second ag—

Shit.

Mrs Chu has been trying to meet Taehyung for weeks. Luckily, you’ve always been able to come up with some sort of excuse, usually revolving around a lack of time. She’d often try to corner you in the morning, just as you’re on the way out, asking countless questions about Taehyung’s schedule. In a rush, you tell her he’s just really busy this week and bolt out the door.

Grabbing your phone, your fingers tremble as you unlock it. A glance at your last message shows it was really sent about twenty minutes ago. You find he initially replied with acknowledgment, sending you a black heart. Later, perhaps growing concerned from your delay, he warned that he would be coming up if you’re not down in the next sixty seconds.

You shut your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. With a huff, you grab your clutch, tossing in your lip gloss, keys, phone and wallet, and rush out into the hall.

Taehyung stands in a full black suit, only a silver tie shining between the lap of his coat. He towers over a five-foot-six Mrs Chu. His hair is slicked back, a sliver-cuffed earring pinned to his lobe. He offers her a smile, a gentle nod.

He says something. The deep tone of his voice masks the words from a distance.

She’s practically giggling, though. Her face is a shade pinker and she has to force herself to look away.

Is this what you look like? Is this what everyone sees? He towers, you cower, bashful and dazed, inching closer towards him. He calls, you fall, helpless and desperate, playing with the buttons of his shirt.

Is this why no one believes you’re just friends?

Taehyung, eyes lazy yet intrigued, lips easy yet curved, draws Mrs Chu’s attention back.

“I see why ____ is so smitten,” she teases.

Your eyes widen. Heat rushes to your cheeks, hands suddenly clammy.

“Mrs Chu,” you call before she can go on any further.

You feel Taehyung’s eyes on you but can’t bring yourself to meet them. You keep your attention on Mrs Chu, making your way towards her.

Slipping between her and Taehyung, you pointedly glance at the couch. “Isn’t Wheel of Fortune on soon?” You ask through gritted teeth.

Mrs Chu rolls her eyes. She leans in towards you, peering up over the rim of her glasses, and mutters, “Subtle.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from groaning and you swear you hear Taehyung stifle a laugh behind you.

She then looks towards him, and smiles. “It was nice meeting you, Taehyung.” She then  feigns surprise and adds, “I just remembered Wheel of Fortune will be on soon.”

“How is that any less subtle?” you whisper.

Mrs Chu opens her mouth to most likely scold you when your breath hitches. You stumble back as her eyes fall to your waist.

Taehyung wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you back against him. He’s steady and warm, but you fight against the urge to lean into his touch. As comforting as it is, especially after a hellish day at work, you cannot let your feelings for him get the better of you or risk Mrs Chu making this bigger than it is. 

“I would love to continue this subtle conversation,” Taehyung says, “but we really should be going.”

You can hear the smirk in his words, feel the muted laughter deep in his chest. You even feel the deep timbre of his voice resonating into your spine. You stiffen, refusing to let the soulful lure soothe your anxieties.  

Mrs Chu is at a loss for words. You’ve never seen her so surprised. She’d experienced life to its fullest. A wild college girl in my day, she always says. An honour roll student, valedictorian, three scholarships, co-captain of the cheer team, married her college sweetheart— divorced him a year later for the love of her life.

And here she stands, perfectly still, before you. She gawks over her glasses, jaw slack, brows raised, bouncing her attention between you and Taehyung as if you had just announced him to be the father of your child.

You shift your weight, hand moving over Taehyung’s to gently brush it off.

You hear the shifting fabric of his pocket as he shoves it in before clearing his throat, “Let’s grab your shoes, Angel,” he whispers, lips hovering near the top of your head.

Mrs Chu blinks at the nickname. She looks at you, like she’s waiting for an explanation, maybe even a correction.

You’re not sure what to say. ‘We’re just friends’ seems like a lie now— you hate the fact that it’s all you will probably ever be. And you doubt you’ll be able to utter that last word without choking on it.

Instead, you let out a breathy chuckle. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

Before either one of them can reply, you hurry down the hall and back into your room. As you search your closet for your heels, you wonder if you also have enough time to shut the door and scream under the covers.

“Your room is not as pink as I imagined it.”

Clutching the shoebox against your chest, you turn to find Taehyung standing in your doorway. He nearly fills the entire frame with his impressive height and broad shoulders. The black of his suit contrasts starkly against the cream walls, making the trim along the ceiling and the base of the deep maple hardwood floors seem almost fragile beneath his inquisitive gaze.

He’s right, though– there isn’t nearly as much pink in your room as you’d like. The space is tiny, barely accommodating your twin bed, a small vanity, and the rack of dresses Taehyung gifted you a couple of months ago. As he steps inside, you press your back against the closet door. The room suddenly feels suffocating as he surveys the small space, gazing with quiet interest, lingering on every detail. 

Your bed, lent to you by Mrs Chu, is pushed against the wall beneath your window. Its frame, a regal black metal with subtle gold accents, feels almost too grand for the tiny room. You’ve indulged in pink silk sheets and a fluffy white comforter. It was an impulse buy after the first surge of funds Taehyung transferred nearly seven months ago. At the foot of the bed, a cluster of plushies sit neatly. You don’t sleep with all of them, but their presence is comforting. 

A couple of books, lip balm, and hand cream sit on top of your oak night table, right beside your bed. Neatly stacked to the right are several more books. It’s not your entire collection, just your favourites. You often reach for them when you need to unwind or seek some comfort. The rest of your library remains boxed under your bed due to the limited space.

Above the bed hangs a gallery of impressionist paintings, each piece a relic of Mrs. Chu’s undergrad days. The vibrant scenes of grassy meadows, serene portraits, and abstract landscapes fill the wall with a patchwork of moods and colours. The adjacent walls are functional: one holds your closet, while the other features a large window nearly spanning its width. Framed by white cotton curtains and fairy lights, the window allows soft daylight to bathe the room.

Taehyung’s eyes settle on the vanity on the other side of the room. He tilts his head at the array of perfumes, bows, and makeup brushes that sit in organised chaos. His fingers graze the dangling chains of your necklaces before his attention settles on one of your smaller plushies. A smile plays on his lips at the collection of remaining stuffed animals you have littered around your room. He picks up a tiny Totoro plushie, turning it over in his hand, his expression soft with amusement.

“Cute,” he hums before putting it back. 

You catch a soft look in his eye and cannot fight the heat creeping up your neck to your cheeks. “You don’t like it when I touch the things around your office,” you point out, stepping towards him as he picks up a perfume bottle. 

He lets you take it from his hand and return it to its rightful place, suppressing an amused smirk. “When has that ever stopped you?”

You bite your lip to suppress your own guilty smile. 

Then, he steps closer. A crisp herbal blend, where floral notes of white tea are grounded by earthy impressions of sage infiltrate your next inhale. Hints of cedarwood and amber, with citrusy touches of begoment, are laced in with his usual musk– no doubt the doing of his cologne. You swallow thickly, resisting the urge to press your thighs together. He smells so delicious, so clean and rugged and Taehyung.

You tilt your head back to properly meet his intriguing, half-lidded gaze. At the sight of your pout, Taehyung nods towards your bed. His lack of words reminds you of the fact that you left him waiting for twenty minutes downstairs. Following his silent order without your usual air of defiance, you take a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter before opening the shoebox to take out your sliver, strappy ribbon heels.

Taehyung kneels. He wraps a hand around your ankle and pulls your foot up to his face. His lips are soft. They press firmly on the knot of your ankle. Then, he sets it down on his knee.

You feel your face heat, flesh pricking with goosebumps. You try your best not to shiver, but fail as he takes the shoe from your hands and begins to slip your foot through. He’s careful with the straps, delicately looping the ribbon around your calf.

His silence usually alludes to something sinister. He’s always so calm before a punishment. The anticipation is often exhilarating. Wondering what he might do, what he might say makes you want to misbehave. How relentless will he be before finally giving into you? How harsh of a punishment will this act yield? These questions excite you but watching him be so deliberate in deafening silence almost makes your toes curl.

However, being this late, you doubt he will execute any physical punishment. Genuine anger may be the reason behind his lack of communication. He does have a habit of issuing a lack of attention as a punishment over texts.

Taehyung grabs your other foot and kisses your ankle again.

“I had to work late,” you try to explain.

He slips on the other shoe.

“The time just got away from me.”

He wraps the ribbon around your leg. His fingers are soft, brushing against your smooth skin.

He doesn’t even grunt an acknowledgement. You wonder if an explanation is doing more harm than good.

His nails are short, but you feel them gently scratch at you as he ties a bow under the back of your knee.

You pull your lip between your teeth, thighs trembling as you continue to resist the urge to press them together.

There it is— a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.

Before you can utter another apology, Taehyung spreads your legs. The heady scent of your neediness fills the air as your wet, white thong is exposed. His grip on your knees tightens at the smell, the action aggressive enough to trigger a quiet moan. His lips, however, are soft, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh.

Another gasp cinches at the base of your throat. You want to ask him what he’s doing. You want to remind him that you’re late, that Mrs Chu is on the other side of the slightly ajar door and can easily walk in on you. She might even be able to hear you right now, struggling to keep your breaths even. But you can’t find the words to stop him, or perhaps— you don’t want to.

You grasp on the edge of the bed. Your eyes flutter shut. You lean back, hips rolling up, up, up towards his chin.

His breath fans over the apex of your thighs. He breathes in deep, nose nuzzling against the damp fabric of your thong.

You bite your lips to hold back a moan.

Friends don’t do this, a little voice in your head whispers.

Friends don’t smother their perfect faces against your wetness. Friends don’t quietly moan and attempt to get you off to the mere vibrations of their voice. Friends don’t coax you into grinding against their firm noses.

But, perhaps, best friends do.

“No more cute sounds for me tonight?”

You peek down at him. He’s pulled himself away from your hips, licking the taste of you off his lips. A mischievous twinkle dances in his gaze.

You glance at the door, about to remind him that you’re not alone.

The smack of his hand against your clothed crotch cuts you off instead.

You’re only just able to catch your yelp, or so you think as a breathy whine breaks through. Eyes wide, you cannot believe he just spanked your pussy. And now he’s rubbing the pad of his thumb firmly against your bundle of nerves.

Your eyes dart to the door. You hear the catchy tune of the game show, the distant voice of the host but cannot make out any footsteps.

Taehyung does not seem to care. All playful indications in his features disappear. His attention burns through you, boiling your blood with needy passion. Your hips buck against the measly bouts of slow pleasure.

And all he does is stare.

Your toes curl, jaw tightens. How can he be so calm right now? Your wetness glistens on his chin, his breath smells of you, his hand is drenched with your neediness and he still kneels between your legs like it’s the only place he wants to be found. He presses harder against you, coaxing another whine.

It’s starting to infuriate you. Does he even care about you, risking your relationship with Mrs Chu so casually? Is this all for his own sick satisfaction? He gets you to trust him, to let him in, only to humiliate you in front of your surrogate grandmother?

God, he’s insufferable.

“We’re late,” you begin, parting your lips to continue when he cups your chin with his other hand.

You melt to his touch all too quickly, allowing him to pull down your head and maintain eye contact.

“And who’s fault is that?” He asks, reaching into his pocket.

“I told you that I had to work a bit later than usual,” you reply, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “My job is important to me.”

“My promises are important to me.”

You raise a brow. “To who?”

That cocky smirk is not lost on you. Taehyung loves a good game— a good show. He likes watching you squirm under his sexual scrutiny and burn with jealousy.

It is the realisation of finding yourself in this position all over again— legs spread, Taehyung in between, and your pride shrivelled up in the corner, you are exactly where you swore you would never be agai—

“Ah!” you whine, eyes wide.

Taehyung continues to push the little toy into you.

“Shh,” he soothes.

You swallow thickly, clenching around the cool silicon. “What is that?” You whisper, voice fragmented and faint.

His gaze softens, thumb brushing against your clit. You resist the urge to buckle your hips up.

“A vibrator. It’s pink, shaped like a heart,” he explains as a smile graces his lips. “It was meant to be a gift for later, but,” he quirks his head to the side, ceasing his ministrations and fixing your panties. “It will work just as well for a punishment.”

You roll your eyes, moving to close your legs. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you it wasn’t my fault.”

“I stood out there for twenty minutes.”

“You have a jacket, don’t you?”

Taehyung stands. He chews on the inside of his cheeks, hands slipping into his pockets.

You press your legs together.

“We fighting today?”

You bite on the inner corner of your lip, attempting to suppress a smile. The quirk of your brow is hard to mask, however. One of the first things Taehyung admitted he was drawn to was your swift wit. He likes to hear you bark only for him to bite. He finds it amusing and pitiful and absolutely thrilling.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you mumble. Your voice is small but you stand with confidence, leaning your head back to maintain his gaze. 

He’s so close now, you can taste the rich scent of his cologne. He nods once, lips brushing against your chin.

“We’ll discuss this in the car,” he whispers against your skin. The deep bartone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. You find it hard to keep your hands to yourself. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you inch forward on your toes to press your chest to his. 

A fight is never really a fight, more like a challenge of endurance. How far do you dare to disobey him? How long can he last before doing something about it? But in this moment, all alone in your little room with his hot breath fanning against your lips, you don’t feel the urge to push his buttons anymore. 

Taehyung does not remove his hands from his pockets. He stays still, expression stoic. If you couldn’t feel the fast beat of his heart or the hardness of his length, you would think he doesn’t want you touching him. 

A pout tugs on your lips at the lack of attention. Softening your voice in hopes that he will at least grab your waist, you ask, “Are you really ma–”

“Don’t,” he hisses, voice husky and low. “Don’t you dare make me repeat myself.”

You whimper. It’s pathetic and strained, but you cannot stop the sound from slipping out, let alone your lips from quivering. You miss him so much, need him so bad. Your heart aches with want, and for a second you cannot understand why things have to be so complicated. You love him and want him to be yours, in every sense of the word. You want to introduce him to Mrs Chu as your boyfriend, not just some guy you happen to be friends with and he just happens to buy you whatever you want. You want to hold his hand, call him sweet terms of endearment and flaunt your relationship in front of your stupid, bitchy boss. You want his attention, his time, and most of all– his lips on yours.

But then the rational part of your brain makes a reappearance and reminds you that this yearning is one-sided, and acting on it would mean risking the little bits of attention you’re getting right now. 

So you swallow thickly, slide your hands off his broad shoulders and down his strong chest, then back to your side. You grab your purse and the white fur coat Taehyung bought you from the bed, and lead the way out. 

“We’re going,” you call to Mrs Chu as you unlock the door. 

She waves you off. 

“Have a good night, Mrs Chu,” Taehyung then says.

She sits up in her seat on the couch and turns to give him her best smile. “Only if you do too, Taehyung,” she teases. A girlish giggle tumbles out of her as he flashes her an easy smile. You suppress the roll of your eyes as you head out.

Taehyung does not rest his hand on the small of your back as you make your way down the stairs. You sneak glances at him, finding he remains composed, hands still in his pockets, and completely ignoring you. When you step outside into the cold November night, he finally spares you a look over his shoulder. You stop mid-step expecting to find his usual car instead of a limousine. You remember being in one on your first night out together but that was because the event insisted on sending them out for all their high-funding donors. However, you don’t remember Taehyung mentioning that this is a charity event. 

Noticing your hesitation, he slips a hand behind your back and gently leads you towards the car. The driver opens the door for you and Taehyung helps you in. He does not lean in to buckle your seat belt for you, instead circling the back of the car to get in from the other side.

The limousine is a void of black leather and silence. You miss Sinatra’s soft voice trickling through the speakers and green glow of Taehyung’s custom made car. Most of all, you miss the way EDEN would greet you, flashing pink when speaking to you only. 

You slouch in your seat.

If you had known he’d be this upset, you would have told him you wouldn’t be able to make it before putting all this effort into looking presentable in front of his colleagues. Maybe if you had been honest about not being ready on time, he would have at least been more understanding. You know he hates coming late, having read about how he often arrives an hour before his meetings when you were researching him prior to your first meeting at the art gallery. 

But this passive aggressive treatment is too much. You miss him doting on you, groping your thighs and pulling you against his side. You’ve already apologised, even if you instantly attempted to bait him into an argument seconds later. He likes that you’re bratty, having told you so multiple times. So when is he going to swallow his pride already and–

“Ah,” you quietly squeal as the heart-shaped vibrator buzzes to life. The vibrations are slow, humming quietly against your clenching walls.

Taehyung slides closer to you, the widespread of his legs knocking against your trembling knees. You instantly press yourself against him, not about to resist his strong scent and warmth. His forehead brushes against yours before he roughly grips onto your chin, forcing you to meet his angry gaze.

“When will you fucking behave?” he hisses.

Your toes curl. Heat pools at the apex of your thighs. You let out a shaky breath, rounding your eyes.  

He tightens his grip, puckering your glossed lips. “I try to be patient with you,” he continues, voice dropping an octave. “I try to teach you and play with you, but you keep getting this crazy idea that you’re in charge.”

“M-May I please explain,” you ask through a whimper. 

A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest and tumbles over your hot face. He moans softly before grazing your soft cheek with his teeth, teasing a bite. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you, besides ‘yes, daddy.’ Am I clear?”

“Yes, daddy.”

A satisfied growl resonates from the depths of his chest and into yours, further dampening your little white thong. He uses his free hand to lift and rest your thigh over his lap. The new position, legs spread for him, allows the vibrations to buzz freely within you. While you try to bite your lip, constricted from his harsh hold on your chin, a loud moan still slips out.

“What was the first rule I sent you?”

You fight back a smile at the memory of that conversation. After running out of his office, overwhelmed by the sudden realisation of your feelings, he texted to check in on you. You went back and forth for a bit before he revisited the topic of discipline, or rather– what to expect from each other.

[angelcake] : interesting. so i get a say in this too?

[V] : Of course.

[V] : This goes both ways.

“No talking back,” you finally answer, pulling yourself out of your memories.

Taehyung smirks against your skin. Warm and soft, his lips then gently press against your flaming cheek. “That’s right, princess,” he mutters. 

Princess. 

A strained whine tears through your throat at the new term of endearment. He hasn’t called you much besides Angel. Sometimes he might pepper in a darling or sweetheart, but he has only uttered that word once before, last week when you stormed into his office in a huff. You didn’t know how badly you needed to hear it again, in that deep baritone voice of his, until now. Your hips roll up in response, desperate for more of his attention. Still, the vibrations remain at the current slow pace and pattern. 

Taehyung rubs your bare thigh as it rests over his strong leg. His hand inches closer and closer to your needy core, softly brushing against your sensitive skin. You can’t help shivering, or your little moans. No matter how much you bite your lip, ruining your lip gloss, or hold your breath, those desperate sounds still escape. It’s as if your body is determined to let him know how much you need him. 

He’s taking his time, grazing the pads of his fingers over your soft inner thighs. You fight against the instinct to press your legs together at the tantalising sensation. You want to beg him to just touch you, to just cup your crotch and kneed your clit with the heel of his palm as the vibrator continues to buzz within you. But he specifically narrowed your responses to two words and hasn’t asked you any other questions that would elicit an alternative answer. If you try to reason with him again, it will only anger him even more. And, while you love to see him riled up, you don’t think you can survive another sexual encounter with Kim Taehyung and be denied yet another orgasm. 

 So you keep your painful desires to yourself, letting out shaky, whiny breaths instead. It’s better this way, you try to tell yourself. I won’t seem too eager.

Your body betrays you, hips lifting up to finally meet his fingers. You expect a comment about how the fabric of your thong is clinging to your folds as he pushes his fingers against them. You expect him to administer feather-light touches, continuing to torment you with his slow pace. 

Instead, you receive a harsh slap over your folds. The sound echoes in the car, rivaling the volume of your surprised moan. You move to throw your head back, but his grip on your chin is still tight, forcing you to maintain eye contact. 

He smacks your wetness over and over again. Each one is just as hard, just as harsh. You can feel the heat radiate from his hand with every hit, legs trembling from the consistent bursts of simulation. The intensity of the vibrator within heightens a notch more and you cannot help the roll of your eyes. 

“Look at me,” Taehyung whispers. 

As you try to make eye contact with him again, you catch the gaze of the driver. Face red and eyes wide, he watches you through his rearview mirror. He holds your gaze, surprised at first but his shame soon falters. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s pleased.

“D-Daddy,” you mutter, voice strained and shrill. 

Taehyung follows your concerned gaze. His features harden. “Don’t look at her,” he orders. His voice is full of assertion and dominance. The driver instantly obeys, still Taehyung adds, ��Eyes forward. Drive.”

His expression softens when he turns back to you, the grip on your chin loosening. Voice low and husky, he asks, “Are you alright?” 

The sincerity in his tender gaze makes you tremble. “Yes, daddy,” you whisper, suppressing a smile at the way he bites his lip.

Taehyung nods, finally letting go of your chin. Instead, his hand slides behind you and around your waist, pulling you closer against him. He dips his face to the crook of your neck and his lips caress your soft skin. With a sharp inhale of your scent, his other hand finds its rightful place between your legs. He cups your throbbing core, smirking at the way you arch your back into his side. 

“You’re always so responsive to me,” he whispers in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. 

The rich baritone of his voice makes you squirm all the more. Your folds sting from the harsh smacks, clit aching for more stimulation. You want to tell him to soothe the ache, to rub you until your eyes cross and you’ve forgotten your name. But you know he’s only showing you a semblance of mercy now because you took his punishment without sassing him. 

However, you find that you don’t need to say much. You wonder if perhaps your body is rather responsive in a way only Taehyung can decipher as he seems to know exactly what you need. Shifting enough to press his forehead against yours, he takes one look in your eyes and smirks. Before you can even think about questioning what that soft, amused look even means, his hand starts to move. The stimulation is agonisingly slow and soft but it’s something.

You do your best to stay still, to simply receive his generosity, but your hips have a mind of their own. It starts with a simple shift, then a squirm and before you know it, you’re grinding against his hand. One hand gripping on the edge of the seat, the other on the lap of his coat, you greedily gyrate against his long fingers.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. He sounds so raspy and just as breathless as you. “Have I told you that tonight?”

You shake your head, cheek flaming. “No, daddy,” you shakily reply. 

He kisses your cheeks, smirking at the heated skin, then trails his lips along your jawline. He lingers, as if committing the soft curves of your features to memory. When his lips finally reach your ear and his fingers are completely drenched in your wetness, he says, “You look absolutely delicious.”

His voice resonates deep in your bones, rattling the discs of your spine and prinkling your skin with goosebumps. Your eyes roll back, hips eagerly grinding into his fingers as a disgustingly pathetic moan tears through your throat. You sound so weak and frail and like you’ve lost all sense of yourself. 

And yet, as Taehyung holds you tight and nuzzles his nose into the side of your face, muttering sweet praises, you have never felt more safe and secure in your life. You’ve merely had dreams of feeling this protected, but always believed that you were never the type of girl that deserved that kind of attention. 

But here Taehyung is, rendering you into a complete mess, and you feel as though you’ve finally found comfort and security. 

“M-May I please cum?”

 The words tumble from your lips in a hasty breath. You feel Taehyung smirk against your flushed skin. 

“Are you sure you want to?” You can hear the teasing edge in his voice and it makes resisting your orgasm harder. “You’ll have to sit in your sticky panties all night, Angel,” he warns, yet his ministrations are relentless, “I know how much you hate that.”

Yes, the sensation is uncomfortable and unsettling once the fog of lust has lifted and you’ve registered the reality of what you have just done. When you’re seconds away from one of the best orgasms of your life, however, you don’t care what you soil or who witnesses it. You just need to release it, and now.

“Please, Daddy,” you whimper, body tense. Your voice is a shell of what it once was, all meek and desperate. “Please, please, let me cum. I promise to behave the rest of the night.”

Taehyung groans quietly, the gentle vibrations rumbling from his chest to yours. “You know I’m going to hold you to that, right?” He teases. 

Toes curling, bones stiffening, you hastily nod. A strained sob tumbles from your glossed lips, face furrowed in tormented pleasure.

He chuckles at your broken whines. The vibrator nuzzled within, buzzing at a moderate level of intensity this whole time, suddenly jolts a notch faster. Even his fingers press firmer and harsher between your sensitive folds. 

You hold back. Squeezing your eyes shut, holding your breath, you do whatever you can to hold your orgasm back. His second rule is to always ask to cum. He told you that you’ve broken it several times and promised that he will not be lenient if you do it again. You would have hesitated to disobey him even if he wasn’t already annoyed with how late and sassy you’ve been tonight.

Perhaps he notices your stiffness, or has finally decided to stop toying with you, but Taehyung mutters his approval with a wet, open-mouthed kiss against your ear.

A waterfall of relief and satisfaction washes over you. Lips curled in a faint smile, you throw your head back and release a sharp whine as you gush around the vibrator. Your body roars with pleasure, hips rolling quicker and quicker against his touch, desperate to ride over this ethereal feeling to the last burst of arousal. 

You must have been chanting his name because suddenly Taehyung’s voice trickles into your light-headed mind, low and deep, with reassurances. 

“I’m right here, Angel,” he sweetly mutters. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You moan even louder, neediness evident in your ragged voice. Your throat feels sore from the strain of both suppressing and releasing broken whines, but you can’t care less. All you can think about is Taehyung. 

Offering another round of delicate kisses, he teasingly asks, “You’ve been such a good little thing for me, haven’t you?” 

You know he is not expecting an answer, but you nod anyway.

He pulls back, bringing his hand up to lick his arousal-slick fingers, holding your lust-blown gaze through half-lidded eyes. His deep-chested groan vibrates against your chest. Whimpering, you clench tight around the still buzzing toy.

A thought suddenly pops into your head and, for a second, you think you should ask before you act on it. The urge takes over you, though. Leaning a mere inch forward, you latch your lips around his pinky, sucking on the remnants of your orgasm with him.

He smiles– his sweet, velvety laughter echoes in the absence of your loud, recklessly needy moans around the limousine. You cannot help the flush of your cheek at the sound, suppressing a guilty smile yourself. You are not keen on tasting yourself but, with his hand being the only thing separating your lips, this might be the closest you get to kissing him. And, besides, you like how his strong fingers feel on your tongue. You like how he always pushes against it, as if silently ordering it to yield to his touch.

You slouch back into the seat, body trembling, as you suck on his fingers like a pacifier. Your gaze meets Taehyung’s at the realisation and the darkening gleam in his eyes makes you wonder if perhaps he was thinking the same thing. 

You’re not sure how this always happens– how easily his presence can render you helpless and fragile. Is it simply his dominating demeanour, or a sixth sense that seems to be attuned to your body’s desires? Does he know you really well or are you just an open-book? You want to ask, want to know what it is about him that makes you feel utterly vulnerable, yet completely safe. 

Removing his fingers from your mouths, Taehyung decreases the intensity of the heart-shaped vibrator back down to its lowest setting. You release your grip on the edge of the leather seat and his coat, full chest heaving in your glittering dress. He pulls you closer, his lips millimetres away from the corner of yours.

“Do you see what happens when you behave? You took your punishment like a good girl and I rewarded you, didn’t I?” He asks. His tone is condescending but still calm and firm. 

Biting back another moan, since you have humiliated yourself enough in front of the driver, you nod. “Yes, daddy,” you whisper, still trying to catch your breath. 

“All you have to do is trust me.”

“I do.”

The words escape before you can even register them, carrying too much conviction and urgency. You swallow thickly, wishing desperately to take them back.

Taehyung’s brows furrow, ever so slightly. 

You narrow your eyes. Did… did he just flinch?

Before you can really analyse the gesture, the car stops. You glance at the driver to find he’s keeping his eyes forward, but his expression is filled with a mix of regret and terror. The sudden sound of clicking cameras redirects your attention to the car door on your side of the limousine.

In a few simple movements, Taehyung readjusts both your positions so that you are sitting properly beside him. He fixes your dress and the framing pieces of hair around your face. He then presses a soft kiss to your cheek before meeting your gaze with deliberate care and tenderness. “It’s going to be a bit loud, just like when we went to that gallery. Do you remember that?” When you nod, he continues, “I want you to stand close to me and just keep your head down, okay, Angel?”

His once assertive voice is replaced with a soft yet protective edge. He holds your gaze even after you nod again, and doesn’t tell the driver he’s ready until you verbally confirm that you understand.

When he moves to step out of the car, you call him back. “The vibrator,” you whisper, still feeling its faint buzz against your tight walls. 

Taehyung smirks, his gaze flickering down to your lap before meeting yours again. A mischievous glint dances in his eyes as he replies, “I know.”

Your breath hitches as he exits the car. Does he actually expect you to navigate through the zoo of reporters with an active vibrator sitting deep inside you? The ongoing stimulation, while weak, paired with the stickiness of your thong is overstimulating enough. To expect you to ignore it all while avoiding cameras is cruel and a part of you thinks it might be part of your punishment.

Nonetheless, you accept his outstretched hand when your door opens and gracefully step out of the car. The next thirty seconds are a series of flashing lights, invasive questions and lots of shouting demands. The late November night air is cold, but the nosy reporters, shoving cameras and microphones in your face are colder. They care very little for personal space as they push between the security personnel for a mere glimpse of a better shot. 

You pull your fur coat closer to your body. Taehyung keeps a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you to the front door as you keep your head down. 

“What’s your name?!”

“How did you meet?!”

“Who are you wearing?!”

You ignore their questions, nuzzling closer to Taehyung. You can feel the heat of the theatre now, about to cross over the threshold when a particular question draws your attention back. 

“How long have you been working for the Geraldson Group?!”

Brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, you whip your head back. How the fuck did they know you work there? Have they been following you? You want to scan the crowd for a familiar face, however the scene before you is chaotic and much too loud. The sudden attention causes a roaring wave of excitement. Immediately, flashing lights blur your vision. You’re mostly shielded by the thick fur of your coat, but the fast blinking still disorients you.

Taehyung tightens his grip on your waist and pulls you inside with him. 

The doors close. The thunderous voices of the reporters muffles and soft, classical music fills the grand space before you. 

You blink until your eyes adjust, one side of your coat falling from your shoulders as you lean into Taehyung’s strong frame for support. He helps you out of it without another word. Before you know it, you’re being led through a theatre of Renaissance design. 

Plush red carpets span the entire lobby, their vibrant hue complementing the warm, amber glow of the majestic marble walls. Each wall is adorned with rectangular pillars that stretch skyward, meeting the concaved ceiling in graceful, curving arches. Symmetrical patterns climb the face of every pillar, leading your eyes to a high, vaulted ceiling brimming with ornate details. However, the classical, Renaissance design truly shines through in the intricate porcelain trimmings, their delicate craftsmanship adding an air of timeless elegance to the space. And in the centre of it all is a lavish chandelier with a beautifully carved medallion. Like a blooming flower, it skirts around the glowing crystal with triangular carvings. 

You let out a breathless gasp at the sight. Your attention trails down to the numerous attendees of tonight’s event, all dressed in formal suits and dresses. They are conversing or making their way to their seats, climbing up the grandiose staircase before you. 

Taehyung returns his hand to the small of your back. You look up at him, expecting his previous cold demeanour to surface. However, to your surprise, he meets your gaze with exceptional warmth. He even offers a small smile as he leads you to the staircase.

Relief washes over you at the sight. You thought he might be upset at the fact that you technically disobeyed his orders when you turned back to the cameras at the last second. However, his borderline cheer-y mood seems to be genuine.

Wanting to keep that joyful spirit alive, you mutter, “I didn’t mean to look back. It’s just–”

“I know,” Taehyung reassures. His hand rubs soft circles on your back with every step up the stairs. “I heard the question.”

You raise your brows, lips slightly parted. “How do they know?” 

Taehyung’s once playful eyes soften into something more sincere and… remorseful? “Someone’s been feeding them information.”

“Who?”

“Take a guess, princess.”

Any indication of guessing flew out the window the moment he called you that pet name. You swallow thickly, clenching around the humming toy. Why must he make this so easy? Pretending to be his, even believing it, is so fucking easy when he touches you so tenderly, adjusts his steps to match your slow ones because he knows you’re wearing heels, and calls you intimate terms of endearment all too causally. Suddenly, you want to tell him, you want to forget all the consequences and just let the words take over you– I think I’m in love with you.

But the moment you part your lips, fear shackles your voice. You can barely breathe as you look up at him. His side profile is stunning. Strong jawline, sweet lips, soft nose and captivating eyes with long lashes, he is flawless.

“I don’t know,” you finally reply, voice quiet and shaky.

Taehyung sighs. “I suspect it’s your boss, but I haven’t been able to prove it just yet,” he confesses. “I’ve been mostly trying to keep your name out of the press and buy out any possible pictures of you.”

The rage you instantly feel for Marina falters as Taehyung continues to outline in detail how he has tracked down every digital and physical copy of your photo and erased it from existence. He reassures you that no one will know who you are or where you live. 

“And,” he adds as you finally reach the landing, “No one was supposed to find out where you work but I think she got that out herself.”

“Why can’t she just leave me alone?” You mutter under your breath. 

Is sex with Taehyung really that good or is she just insane? At some point, she must see how psychotic all this is– if she indeed is the one leaking personal information about you. 

Taehyung still hears your exasperated words, tightening his grip on your waist. “Look, I know we talked about it before and I really do want you to feel free to choose to do whatever you like,” he starts, leading you down an extravagantly designed hall, “but, Angel, please reconsider quitting. None of this is worth it.”

“Do you seriously think I don’t know that, Tae,” you reply with just as much annoyance laced in your voice. “Of course, it’s not worth it, but it also won’t be worth anything if I leave now and I’m certain she knows that. And I’m not about to run away from someone that pathetic and desperate.”

Taehyung raises a brow at your words.

You bite your lip, instantly filled with regret and yet you don’t take any of it back. You know you’re right. You know she’s acting crazy. And, you’ll be damned if a psycho like her is going to control your life.

“You know,” Taehyung whispers, “You’re kinda hot when you’re pissed.” 

You fight off a smile. “That’s really funny,” you tease, as he stops you in front of a red curtain. “I could say the same thing about you.”

One of the ushers pulls back the curtain and Taehyung nods at you to enter before him. You step through to find the entire auditorium below. The lobby pales in comparison to this grand space. The ceiling is also domed but instead of being adored with a beautiful medallion, it reflects a renaissance-style painting of Heaven. Pale blue skies, rich white clouds, gods and goddesses dressed in cotton sheets and wraps, looking solemn and holy.

You gape at the sky, letting out a small gasp. “This place is so beautiful,” you whisper to Taehyung as he guides you to your seats– the front row of the balcony. 

“It’s my favourite theatre,” he replies, sitting down beside you. He rests his hand on your bare thigh and continues, “I knew you’d like it.”

You pause.

You thought that this was some sort of business event. Taehyung specifically told you that he would like you to attend five events with him. There was the art gallery, a night you will never forget. Then you went to the stables, where he dry humped you senseless and no doubt destroyed any evidence the polo players may have had of it. And there was that one on the boat but really you can’t remember what charity that was for. All you remember of that night was Taehyung’s mouth all over your nipples and being delicately taken care of. 

This night at the theatre was supposed to be the fourth. You’re wearing the fourth dress he bought you specifically for these business events, after you expressed your insecurity of not being able to afford anything fitting enough to be his plus-one. 

However, the show looks like it’s seconds from starting and no one else is entering the balcony. You take another look around and confirm that it’s just you and Taehyung up here, with that heart-shaped vibrator still buzzing and your chest still pounding. 

“What charity is this for again?” You ask, keeping your voice tempered.

Taehyung casts you a sidelong glance before answering, “This is not for charity.”

You wait in hopes that he will continue.

He doesn’t. 

Is this a date? A misunderstanding? Were you not supposed to wear this dress? But Taehyung made a comment about it in the car. If he didn’t want you wearing it tonight, he would have told you so before you even left your apartment. You wonder if he didn’t because you were late, or maybe he just didn’t notice yet. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Angel?” 

His deep, velvety voice draws you out of your confused thoughts. You cross your legs, instantly regretting the action as it puts more pressure against the soft vibrations within. You suppress a moan. 

Taehyung then leans in close, pressing his lips to your ear to whisper, “Are you horny, princess?”

Heat pools at your core. You can’t stop yourself from squirming in your seat. Shooting him a pout, you hold back a snarky comment and instead ask, “Is this a company event?”

The assertion in his dominance softens. Licking his lips, Taehyung shakes his head. “No, it’s not,” he replies, “A friend I made in the military is performing tonight. He sent me two tickets and I thought I might as well bring a friend.”

You should have stayed curious. His words suffocate your heart and you find yourself grateful for not confessing your feelings for him earlier.

Thought he’d bring a friend, you wonder as your jaw sets. So not only is this not a date, but I’m also a fucking afterthought? 

Did he also think to just put you in this dress and call this one of your obligated events? Does he just want to get this over with? 

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he orders. 

You suppress a glare, schooling your features. “Nothing,” you mumble. 

“Don’t lie to me.”

Sharply inhaling, you have to swallow thickly to keep from sarcastically snorting at his hypocrisy. You’re not allowed to lie but it seems like he can do whatever the fuck he wants. 

“Why am I here, Taehyung,” you find yourself asking. There’s an edge in your voice that cannot seem to stay hidden. “This isn’t work related, you made a huge deal about being late and this vibrator is only making things worse, so just tell me what I’m doing here.”

Taehyung sits up in his seat. He turns away from the stage, even as the lights dim, to fully face you. The curtains pull back, revealing the stage and a single individual in the centre, who might very well be his friend, but he continues to keep his undivided attention on you.

Voice low and deep, he poses questions of his own. “What has been going on with you lately? One second you’re fine and the next you’re talking to me like I’ve hurt you,” he whispers, earnest brown eyes boring into yours. “I’ve been following your rules. I text you every morning and night, I’m not, nor have I ever paid you for sexual favours and I haven’t seen anyone else in almost a year. I don’t skip meals anymore, I tell you if you might interact with one of my exes, I shared my location with you, even when I knew you were just joking and being a little fucking brat.”

You bite your lip, averting your gaze to your lap in shame. He really has been on his best behaviour. Even on his busiest days, he sends you the messages you asked for and takes the time to give you detailed rundowns of his entire day. 

Gently cupping your chin, he nudges you to face him again. “Tell me what’s going on,” he repeats. “Tell me how to fix it.”

I wish you’d love me, you want to say. I wish you’d love me the same way I love you. And you’re starting to realise that perhaps you’re becoming resentful that he doesn’t or that you’re just too much of a coward to really succumb to such vulnerability.

“You’re missing the performance,” you mutter, hoping to skirt the conversation for another time. 

“I’ve already repeated myself once. Don’t make me do it again, Angel,” he warns, yet his voice remains heavy with heartfelt emotion and sincerity. 

Perhaps you cannot tell the whole truth, but you might be able to get away with telling him a part of it. “I feel like an afterthought right now,” you whisper. “I feel like you asked me to come because I was just there and not because you actually want me here.”

Taehyung wraps an arm around your shoulders. He pulls you close into his side and leans down ever so slightly to press his lips to your ear. “An afterthought,” he questions in a breathy whisper that makes your clit ache. “You’re the only thought. You’re here because this is where you belong, Angel. Don’t forget that.”

You grip onto his thigh, body trembling. His words loop in your head, over and over as he pulls back enough to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead. Biting your lip, you do your best not to moan, knowing it will surely echo in a grand room designed  for optimal sound. 

“Now, how about we have some fun?” 

Before you can reply, the vibrator surges to a pace that’s three times faster. You bury your face into his neck, not caring if the gesture will ruin your makeup or his suit, to muffle your needy moans. Tightening the cross of your legs, clenching around the toy, you do your best to repress your growing desire. If you let out a whine that is even slightly at speaking volume, you’re convinced the entire auditorium will hear it.

“Please,” you manage to murmur. 

Taehyung quietly chuckles, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know better than to beg, Angel. Be good, and maybe I’ll reward you after the show.”

​​And with that, he settles back into his seat, leaving you trembling on the edge of composure, the hum of the vibrator your only company as the performance begins.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.