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kirammanswifey · 2 days ago

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wedding planning struggles with arcane characters x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: did i told you guys that i love this dynamic? because i do, i reaaally do, it's just so comforting describing this kind of mundane and simple problems. i'll exploit this dynamic much more, exciting scenarios are coming. as you already know request are open ;)

marriage proposal link:

Viktor

The excitement of planning your wedding with Viktor fills you with energy. From choosing the flowers to the menu, every detail matters. You've spent hours discussing colors, flavors, and sensations, but lately, you feel like Viktor isn’t sharing your enthusiasm. Today is one of those days when, sitting next to him in the lab, you try to capture his attention.

"Viktor, what do you think about the tablecloths? Do you think we should go with an ivory tone or something more vibrant, like a sky blue?" you ask, flipping through fabric samples.

He barely glances up from his project. "Whatever you prefer, darling."

You sigh and move on to the next question. "And the menu? We have options between a fish dish or meat. Which one do you think the guests will like more?"

"Whatever you decide will be fine," he responds with little interest, his eyes still focused on his work.

Frustrated, you decide to test him. "What do you think about the paper napkins? I was thinking of choosing ones with a floral pink print. Do you like the idea?"

Without looking up, he murmurs, "Yeah, sounds good."

Your patience runs thin. "Viktor! Paper napkins are for picnics, not for our wedding!"

He finally stops, looks at you, clearly confused. "Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I was focused on this experiment."

"Exactly, Viktor. You’re always focused on something else. You don’t care about the wedding, do you? No matter what I ask, you always say that whatever I prefer is fine. Does this marriage even matter to you?" The words come out with more force than you intended, but your frustration takes over.

Viktor puts down his tools and turns to face you. "That’s not true. Of course it matters. But you’re better at these things. I trust you to make the right choices."

"It’s not just about making the right choices," you reply, your voice shaking. "I want you to be involved, to do this with me. I don’t want to do it alone."

Viktor rubs his forehead, clearly searching for the right words. "I’ve been involved. I suggested we have the wedding in the Undercity, in the old market where I used to spend my childhood. I wanted that place to have meaning for us. But you refused, you said it was dangerous."

You sit in silence for a moment, processing what he said. "I did it because I want our guests to be safe. Not because I don’t care about what that place means to you."

"I understand, but that was my way of participating, and I felt rejected," he says, his voice low but full of emotion.

Your frustration turns into sadness, and you can't stop the tears from filling your eyes. "Viktor, this is important to me. I just wanted you to feel as excited as I do."

Seeing your tears, Viktor quickly approaches and takes your hands in his. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t care. This marriage means the world to me, just as much as it does to you. If I’ve been distant, it’s just because I sometimes get lost in my work. But I promise to be more present."

You embrace him, feeling the warmth and sincerity of his words. "That’s all I wanted to hear."

He gently strokes your hair, whispering, "We’ll do this together. From now on, I’ll be your partner in all of this, not just in the big things, but in every little detail."

You smile through the tears, feeling the weight of the tension lift. "Thank you, Viktor. I love you."

"And I love you," he replies, his voice filled with tenderness. "I always will."

You both remain in each other's arms, knowing you've found mutual understanding, strengthening your bond and the excitement for the day that is to come.

Jinx

Planning a wedding with Jinx is, to say the least, a roller coaster. You're sitting in your small living room, surrounded by catalogs, fabric samples, and endless task lists. Jinx is on the floor, playing with a knife and tossing it in the air, seemingly uninterested in the process.

"Jinx, can you focus for a second? We need to decide on the wedding theme," you say, trying to get her attention.

She shoots you a quick look, a mischievous smile on her face. "I already told you, we're having a wedding with explosions and fireworks. What else do we need?"

You sigh, trying to stay calm. "Yes, but we need more details. What colors do we want to use? What style of decoration?"

"Colors... hmm," Jinx leans back, holding the knife above her head. "I like blue, you know, like my hair. And pink, because it's fun. How about those?"

"Blue and pink, fine," you say, jotting it down in your notebook. "And about the food? We need to decide on the menu."

Jinx rolls her eyes, clearly bored. "Food? Whatever, something that'll keep them energized to dance all night."

You stop and look at her intently. "Jinx, are you really interested in this? Because I feel like you're not taking any of it seriously."

She sits up quickly, her smile fading a bit. "Of course, I'm interested. It's just... all this planning stuff isn’t really my thing. I like spontaneous things, you know?"

"But this is important to me," you say softly but firmly. "I want it to be special for you too."

Jinx goes silent for a moment, her gaze softening. "Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to think I don’t care. I just have a hard time sitting still and thinking about things so... organized."

You move closer to her, taking her hands. "I know, and I understand. But I want this day to be perfect for both of us. I need your help to make it happen."

She looks at you, her blue eyes shining with sincerity. "Alright, toots. I’ll do it. You just have to guide me a little, okay? I’m not great at this, but if it’s important to you, I’ll do it."

You smile and hug her, feeling her vibrant energy now more focused on you. "Thank you, sweets. It means a lot."

"We’re gonna make this wedding explosive, in a good way," she says, grinning again with that unmistakable spark. "And I promise I won’t blow anything up. At least not too much."

You both laugh, feeling like the planning now has a unique touch, with Jinx’s essence but also with the care and love you share.

The excitement for the wedding has you glowing. You've spent the whole day talking to your parents about the plans, thrilled about every luxury they can include thanks to their generosity. When you walk into the apartment you share with Vi, you're euphoric, eager to tell her every detail.

"Vi, you have no idea what we're going to have at the wedding!" you exclaimed, dropping your purse on the couch and walking over to her. "My parents are handling everything. We’re going to have imported flowers, a special performance from Seraphine, and even a chocolate fountain. It’s going to be amazing!"

Vi, who was sitting on the edge of the bed sharpening her fighting gloves, looked up. "And what else? Are they bringing unicorns too?" Her tone was clearly sarcastic.

You stopped, surprised by her reaction. "What do you mean by that?" you asked, crossing your arms.

She shrugged, setting the glove aside. "Nothing, just that it seems like your parents are turning this wedding into more of a show than a celebration."

"That’s not fair, Vi," you said, feeling defensive. "They just want the best for us."

Vi sighed, running a hand through her short hair. "Sure, the best for their perfect daughter, who’s lucky enough to get to marry someone like me."

The comment hit you harder than you expected. "What are you implying? That my parents are doing this just out of obligation? Vi, they support us, and I... I’m happy they’re helping. I don’t understand why you have to be like this."

"Why do I have to be like this?" Vi stood up, her voice rising slightly. "Because this isn’t what I imagined. I didn’t want us to have to depend on them for everything. I wanted to give you a wedding I could afford, something that came from me, not from them."

Vi’s words took you by surprise. You felt like the conversation was going in a different direction than you had expected. "Vi, my parents just want to help."

She shook her head, taking a step toward the window. "You don’t understand. It’s my pride, deer. It hurts that I can’t give you what you deserve. Every time you talk about the things they’re paying for, it reminds me of how little I have to offer you."

You walked over to her, taking her hand and forcing her to look at you. "Vi, you’ve given me more than any luxury or extravagance ever could. You’ve given me your love, your support, your strength. I don’t care who’s paying for the wedding, because the only thing that matters to me is that you’ll be by my side."

Vi’s eyes softened, her expression shifting from frustration to something gentler. "I’m sorry," she murmured. "I just... feel so useless sometimes, seeing them do everything."

"Vi, you’re not useless," you said firmly, caressing her cheek. "You are everything I’ve ever wanted. This day will be ours, no matter who’s paying for it, because the most valuable thing to me is marrying you."

She leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a soft, emotional kiss. "Thank you for understanding," she whispered against your lips. "I promise I’ll do everything I can to make this day special, even if I can’t pay for it with money."

"It’s already special because it’s with you," you replied, hugging her tightly. "I love you, Vi."

"And I love you, more than words can say," she said, holding you as if she never wanted to let go.

You both stayed there, embraced, letting the tension fade, knowing that, no matter the problems, together you could overcome anything.

Caitlyn

The room was adorned with a golden glow, the walls decorated with elegant tapestries, and the wedding plans scattered across the table, along with details and proposals. You were excited, visualizing what your wedding day would be like, but you couldn’t help but notice that Caitlyn seemed quieter than usual. Her gaze seemed fixed on the corner of the room.

"Cait? What do you think of these centerpieces?" you asked with a smile, wanting to share the excitement of the planning. "We could choose lavender flowers, something simple but elegant, right?"

Caitlyn didn’t respond immediately. Her fingers played with the edge of her glass, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere. Finally, she looked up at you with a forced smile, which didn’t quite hide the worry in her eyes.

"It sounds good, although... I'm not sure my parents would agree with something so... simple," she said with a tone you couldn't ignore.

A knot formed in your stomach. You knew Caitlyn came from an aristocratic family, with many traditions that were expected to be upheld, but you never imagined that external pressure could interfere so much with something so important to both of you.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, already sensing the growing tension in the conversation.

Caitlyn took a deep breath, standing up and walking toward the window as if she needed space to organize her thoughts. "My family... expects us to have a wedding that represents our status, something worthy of tradition. I don’t know if they would accept the venue being decorated with lavender flowers..." her voice lowered as she continued speaking. "They want everything to be big and glamorous, with high-profile guests. They think a simple wedding, even if it’s on our own, doesn’t reflect what’s expected of us."

Your heart raced. You knew Caitlyn’s parents weren’t exactly easy to please, but you never imagined their expectations would overshadow what you both wanted for this day.

"But... Cait," you began, trying to understand, "isn’t this our wedding? Why do we have to do it the way they want? I don’t want a celebration that doesn’t feel like ours. I want it to be something of ours, not just a display of status."

Caitlyn turned toward you, her face now more serious. "I know! I know, and I agree with you. But I can’t disrespect them, not without consequences. They... pressure me in ways you don’t understand. If we don’t meet their expectations, it would look like a failure for our family."

The tone of her voice grew more desperate, more exhausted. You knew she didn’t want to give in, but you also understood the internal battle she was trapped in, between the love she felt for you and her loyalty to her family.

"So, you want our wedding to be some kind of act to impress your parents, instead of what we really want?" Your voice cracked as you asked, feeling the dream you had for that day crumbling.

Caitlyn quickly walked over to you, taking your hands firmly, her gaze filled with regret. "It’s not that. I don’t want that. It’s just... I can’t stop feeling the pressure my parents put on me. They have so much power, and I don’t want to hurt them in a way that will cause us more problems."

The pain in her eyes broke your heart. You knew what that meant to her, the conflict between the love she had for her family and her desire to do things her way.

"I love you, Cait. And I want this wedding to be ours, not a show for them," you said, trying to calm the storm that was brewing in the air. "Cait, I know you’re strong, and I know we can face all of this together. It’s just not fair."

A tear fell from her left eye, something you had never seen before. Caitlyn, so strong and determined, now seemed vulnerable, lost amidst her own expectations and those of others.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I just want you to be happy. I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you. I’m just so trapped in this... and I’m scared that everything will end up being what they want, not what we want."

In that moment, you knew it was time to set aside the anger and hold her. She was having a hard time, caught in a difficult situation, struggling to find a way to satisfy both your desires and her parents’ expectations.

"We can do this, Cait," you whispered, your arms gently caressing her delicate back, and she leaned into you, resting on the person she loved and needed most at that moment. "If we support each other, we’ll find a way. The wedding will be everything we dreamed of, and what your parents expect, but always within what really matters to us. It doesn’t have to be a sacrifice if we do it together."

Caitlyn looked at you for a long moment, as if evaluating your words, evaluating your feelings. Then, with a soft smile, she cupped your chin and kissed you. "I promise I’ll do it. We’ll do it together, like always."

The tension that had filled the room disappeared, and all that remained was mutual understanding and the certainty that, no matter how many difficulties there were, they were willing to face them together. And that was the only thing that mattered.

Jayce

The flowers, the music, the menu... everything seemed to be taking shape, but there was something in the air, a growing sense of discomfort that you couldn’t ignore.

"Jayce, do you really think we need to invite all those people?" you said, the fatigue and frustration beginning to seep into your voice. "Your guest list... it's huge!"

Jayce, who until that moment had been reviewing the papers with enthusiasm you couldn’t share, looked up at you, smiling with a mix of confidence and energy. "It’s Piltover, darling! We need to make this wedding a big deal, something everyone will remember. We have to invite the most influential figures, the city leaders, the people who really matter."

Your breath quickened. You knew Jayce was a man of great ambition and vision, but at that moment, you couldn’t help but feel dismissed by his words. As if all that mattered to him was image and status, and not the fact that this day was so much more personal for both of you.

"I don’t understand, Jayce," you said, trying to keep calm, but your tone came out firmer than you’d expected. "Why is it so important who’s there? Why can’t we do something more intimate, with the people closest to us, with the ones who really matter?"

Jayce frowned, dropping the papers on the table and approaching you with an intensity that made you feel vulnerable. "Are you saying you don’t want to make this a big event? That you don’t want all of Piltover to know what our union means?"

"No, I’m not saying that," you replied, your voice trembling with the accumulated frustration. "What I want is for this day to be something we remember, not what Piltover thinks of us. I want a wedding with meaning, with the people who truly matter to us, not a party to impress others."

Jayce crossed his arms, his jaw tense. You could see his mind starting to process your words, but you could also tell there was something inside him that refused to give in. "This is important! This isn’t just a party, it’s a statement. We’re talking about our future, our position in this city. Everything we do, everything, reflects who we are."

A wave of anger took over you. Each word from Jayce felt like it dug deeper, as if he was ignoring your own wishes, your own feelings. "You’re obsessed with appearances, Jayce! Everything always has to be big, flashy, as if only that has value! I... I just want a day that feels real, something that’s ours, something that reflects who we are as a couple, not a damn parade of names and titles."

The air immediately grew tense, and Jayce’s gaze darkened. "You know what? I don’t understand why you’re so upset. This is an opportunity to show everyone what we’ve achieved, to show them we matter, that we’re not just... I don’t know, residents of Piltover. Doesn’t it matter to you that this day is on par with what we’ve built?"

You stood in silence for a moment, the anger mixed with pain. There was something in Jayce that you didn’t want to lose sight of, something you wanted him to understand. "It’s not about that, Jayce," you said, now calmer but still hurt. "It’s about me wanting you, about this day being for us. I don’t want every decision we make to be based on what others think or what’s expected of us. I want this to be our day, with the people we love, not all those... important people."

A sigh escaped his lips, and for a moment, it seemed like he finally understood. But then, his voice grew softer, but still full of frustration. "I’m not asking you to forget what you want. I just want you to recognize that this is bigger than us, that what we’re doing doesn’t just involve us, but an entire city. What we build here can be remembered, and I want everyone to see it."

The conflict grew bigger in your chest, as if you were caught in a tug of war between what you both wanted. Finally, unable to take it anymore, you said, your eyes full of tears from the intensity of the moment: "I don’t want to stay with someone who only thinks about that. I don’t want this day to be just a showcase. I want it to be something more, something... real."

Jayce looked at you, and for a moment, he thought everything was lost. But then, something in his eyes changed. He came closer, took your hands with a delicacy you hadn’t expected, and in his voice, now softer, whispered: "I’m sorry... I didn’t think about how you’d feel. I... I just want what’s best for us, for you. And I want it to be perfect, I promise. But... I know we also need something that we want, something that makes us feel complete, not just everyone else."

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes allowed you to relax a little. His frustration was still there, but now he seemed willing to find the balance you both were seeking. "We’ll do it our way," he said with a sigh. "I don’t want to get lost in all of this. I want it to be your wedding as much as mine."

Then, with a slight smile, you hugged him. You didn’t know how the day would be, but you knew you’d face it with Jayce by your side, because what truly mattered was what you both wanted, together.

Ekko

The wedding had stopped being just a dream. All the preparations were becoming more real, but as you moved forward, you realized that Ekko's vision of the event was not at all what you had imagined.

One day, after arguing with the organizers about the floral arrangements, you came home to find Ekko looking at some drawings he had on the table, extravagant sketches with half-written ideas. It seemed like he was researching something, but as soon as you walked in, his expression changed.

"What's wrong?" you asked, noticing the slight tension in his face.

Ekko looked at you with a knowing smile, but he didn't seem as enthusiastic. "I was thinking about how to make our wedding something truly unique... I don't want to follow all those boring standards."

You walked over, confused but curious. "Boring standards?"

"Yeah, why do we have to do something like everyone else? Why not have the wedding in an abandoned place in Zaun, where everything started for us? An art show and an improvised banquet for those in needs instead of... this?" he said, pointing to the guest list and the more traditional ideas you had considered.

Ekko's proposal left you in shock. He was serious. A wedding in the Undercity? Full of improvisation? At that moment, an uncomfortable feeling began to grow in your chest. "What? Ekko, are you joking? What's so special about that? It's dangerous, and it's not what I want for us!" You spoke with awareness, since both of you had been born and lived in the Undercity, and you knew better than anyone that it would be quite risky to celebrate the wedding there—interruptions were the least of your concerns.

Ekko looked at you with a mix of surprise and frustration. "I thought you were like me. Why do you like all these... conventional things so suddenly? These ordinary weddings that mean nothing. Didn't you want something authentic, something that truly reflects who we are?"

Ekko's words hit deep, and for a moment, you felt hurt. What did he mean by saying traditional weddings meant nothing? Did he think your dreams and wishes for that day were worthless?

"Ekko..." Your voice trembled a little as you approached him. "Does our wedding mean nothing to you? Is all of this just... a waste of time?"

The silence between you two stretched, and his eyes softened. He slowly approached, taking your hands gently. "No, babe, it's not that. I don't want you to think I don't care. It's just that... I want it to be unique. I want our day to reflect us, our story, who we are. And who we are doesn't fit society's rules."

You sat down, letting Ekko's words sink deeper. It was true, he'd always been someone who fought against the established. Someone who dared to dream the impossible, to challenge what others expected of him. But did that really mean that the wedding you had dreamed of would be lost?

"I just want... I want it to be something beautiful," you said with a sigh. "Something I can always remember as the most beautiful day of our lives. I don't want to do anything weird or strange."

Ekko then smiled, getting closer to you, with a light of understanding in his eyes. "It will be," he said with conviction, "but we'll do it our way. We're not going to follow the standards. I know you don't want that. I don't either."

For a moment, the weight of the situation began to lift, and everything felt much clearer. It was true. You had been so focused on making everything perfect, so eager for the wedding to match what had been your dream, that you'd forgotten something fundamental: you weren't like that.

Finally, you opened up, feeling vulnerable but relieved. "It's just... I just wanted to feel like a normal girl with a normal wedding. I don't know... like the ones I see in the Upper City, with everything so polished, so... perfect. I just want to feel like I belong. Like I'm not different."

Ekko looked at you silently for a moment, and his hands gently squeezed yours. "You're more than that," he said, his voice soft but sure. "You don't have to fit into anything or anyone. What we have, who we are... is unique. And that's what I want our wedding to reflect."

Your breath calmed, and finally, a genuine smile appeared on your face. "Then... let's do it. Our way. A unique day, without following rules."

Ekko hugged you, letting the warmth of his body calm you. "I promise," he whispered in your ear. "We'll make it unique. We'll make it better, but our way."

You both stayed there, surrounded by the warm silence that only the two of you shared, knowing that, even though the road to the wedding wouldn't be conventional, the important thing was that you'd do it together, and that would make it special.

Silco

Silco was standing by the window, looking out at the city from his office high up in the building, where the bustle of the Undercity felt distant but always present. Despite the imposing view, something in his gaze betrayed a void, an internal worry that he couldn’t shake off, even with the love he felt for you. The wedding was drawing closer, and while he knew he wanted a future with you, there were parts of his history, his past, that haunted him, and those shadows didn’t disappear easily.

You were on the other side of the office, going over some details for the ceremony. The environment you were in was bright and luxurious, but for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything you were about to experience didn’t quite belong to you. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Silco had pulled you out of the brothel, a life you had left behind but which always silently haunted you. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to fully free yourself from that past.

“I don’t know if I deserve this…” you murmured, without thinking too much, looking at a list of flowers for the wedding.

Silco lifted his gaze, the cold serenity of his face mixing with something darker, something that seemed like an internal struggle he was trying not to let you see. He walked toward you, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the room.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice deep but calm, though this time there seemed to be a hint of concern beneath it.

You sighed, not wanting to talk about it, but the sadness overwhelmed you. “I can’t stop thinking about what people will say… They’ll look at me and think, ‘that’s the girl who worked in the brothel.’ They’ll never take me seriously. I don’t feel like I deserve something as… beautiful as this.”

A heavy silence fell between the two of you. Silco stared at you, his eyes as intense and calculating as always, but this time there was something different in them, something closer to concern. He approached you, stopping right in front of you but not touching you yet. He looked at your face, your eyes full of uncertainty, and his lips tightened as if his own demons were struggling to surface.

“You know what bothers me the most?” he said finally. “That you keep thinking you don’t deserve this. That you keep looking at the past as if it’s the only thing that defines you. Those people have no idea what you’re capable of. And you… you’re so much more than any shitty place you’ve come from.”

Your eyes filled with tears that you couldn’t stop from spilling. The emotion swelled within you like a wave. “But… what about my parents? I don’t know anything about them. They sold me like I was merchandise. I have no idea if they’re alive or dead, if they care about me. I never knew if they really loved me…” The anguish spilled out in words, and the tension in your chest increased, as if the gravity of the moment were crushing you.

Silco looked at you with a mix of rage and frustration, as if all that pain were a threat to the fortress he had built around himself. But it wasn’t anger that dominated his voice when he spoke.

“You don’t have to carry that guilt or that damn shame. You don’t have to see all that past as a burden that keeps you from walking toward the future. I pulled you out of that shit, and no one, no one, has the right to judge what we are or what we’ve been. Because what I’ve built for you, and what you’ve done, isn’t measured by what others think. The only thing that matters is what I see when I look into your eyes… and when I look at you, I see a woman who makes me want to break the damn world apart to give you what you deserve.”

Silco’s tone was direct, filled with something he couldn’t express with simple words, something deeper. With a firm hand but an unusual gentleness for him, he touched your face, lifting your chin so you would look at him.

“I don’t care what people think. And I don’t care what you’ve been or what you’ve done. The only thing that matters is what we are now. Us. I don’t want this wedding to be just a formality. I want it to reflect everything. And if you’re by my side, then that everything makes sense.”

Despite the confusion in your heart, part of you began to calm down, at least a little. Silco would never lie to you, not in his coldest gestures nor his warmest ones. His words weren’t just empty promises; they were the words of someone who had fought as much as you had, albeit in a different way, to find his place in the world.

“So you really think I deserve this?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

“You deserve everything.” He answered without hesitation. “And I won’t let any shadow from your past cloud what we’ve achieved. If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all this time, it’s that you and I have the right to create whatever we want. What we’ve done or been before doesn’t matter now.”

You stepped toward him, resting your forehead against his chest, the weight of your insecurities beginning to dissolve by the firmness of his support. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this… but being with you makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I deserve something better too.”

“You always have.” He whispered, wrapping you in a firm embrace. “And if you ever forget that, I’ll be here to remind you.”

And in that embrace, the security Silco offered was more than enough to extinguish the doubts that still burned inside you. It didn’t matter where you came from, or what you had suffered. What mattered was the future you both would build together.

Mel

There was something in the air, a subtle tension that you couldn’t help but feel as you sat at the wedding planning table. Mel was completely absorbed in the details, as if everything had to be perfect and according to her vision. She had told you about the decoration, the guest list, and even the type of outfits she thought you both should wear, but something didn’t add up. Mel was making decisions without consulting you, assuming her preferences were the only ones that mattered.

“I’ve decided it will be in an indoor venue, with all sorts of baroque decorations, and I’ve hired the most prestigious orchestra in Piltover. We want to make our position known, right?” Mel was so confident, looking at the papers and giving a satisfied smile while she handled everything, not letting you intervene.

“What about what I want?” you asked, feeling a mix of frustration and discomfort building up in your chest. “Don’t you want this to be our wedding, not just yours?”

Mel looked up, surprised by your tone, but quickly recovered, giving a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course. But… it’s not that complicated, don’t you think? I’ve always been the one to take the reins in this, I always get it right, everything perfectly.”

Your heart began to race. “Mel, you’re not letting me participate. It’s not just your wedding. This is about us, about what we want to share, not about what you think it should be.”

Mel furrowed her brow. “You know, right? Our wedding has to be something that stands out, something that tells the world who we are. I’m not trying to do it alone, it’s just… I’ve always known what’s best.”

“That’s exactly what bothers me!” your words came out forcefully. “You always think you know what’s best, but what about what I want? You’re always planning everything without asking me, always making decisions like everything has to revolve around you.”

The tension was palpable. Mel crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “And what do you know? Do you think I’m not trying to do what’s best for us?” Her voice was sharper now, as if each word was filled with contained frustration. “What about you? Don’t you realize nothing is ever enough for you? You always want something more, something different... Don’t you get tired of living within your own limits?”

What she said stung, like a sharp jab to your chest. “I’m not looking for a spectacle, Mel. What I want is a wedding that reflects what we share, not what the world expects to see.” You felt the emotion take over. “You’re suffocating me with your expectations, with your perfection, Mel. Sometimes, I feel like your need for everything to be perfect is taking away from what truly matters. Perfection isn’t what I want from you, what I want is for us to be together, real.”

Mel stood still, looking down, her face showing a discomfort she didn’t often show. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate. “It’s not that... It’s just that... I don’t know how to do things any other way.” Her voice was softer now, but there was still a layer of tension. “My life has always been about controlling things, doing them the way I want. It’s the only thing I know how to do well. And... I don’t want our wedding to be like any other. I don’t want people to look at us and think we’re ordinary.”

Your eyes softened, and you moved closer to her, taking her hands. “You don’t have to be perfect, Mel. I don’t care if it’s not the most luxurious wedding, or if everything is under control. What matters to me is you, and how we feel together. I don’t want you to drown in your own expectations.”

Mel sighed, the sound of her emotional weariness filling the air. “Sometimes, I feel like... I’m not enough.” Her gaze drifted, as if afraid her words might reveal something she didn’t want to show. “It’s easier to control everything than to accept that things might go wrong. Sometimes, perfection is the only thing I have.”

“You don’t need to be perfect for me, I’ve told you that,” you said softly, caressing her cheek gently. “You just need to be you. And that’s the best part of all of this, Mel. I want you, with all your imperfections, and that’s what I want our wedding to reflect.”

Mel took a deep breath, and a small smile appeared on her face. “I guess I owe you that. This wedding... might be simpler than I thought, but what matters is that it’s ours. Does that sound good?”

The tension immediately dissipated, and the atmosphere between you two softened. She moved closer, and finally, her hands intertwined with yours in a genuine embrace. “Thank you,” Mel said, her voice softer than before, vulnerable and real. “I promise we’ll do it the way you want. It will be our wedding, our way.”

“Thank you,” you replied, hugging her tighter. “All I need from you is for you to be you. And that’s the most perfect thing we can do.”

Both of you smiled, understanding that even though you had differences, the strength of what you shared was far more important than anything else. In the end, what mattered was your mutual commitment, not control, not perfection, but the love you had promised each other.

Sevika

The idea of planning the wedding seemed, in theory, fun and exciting. But in practice, it was an absolute mess. Both of you were trying to organize everything, but Sevika and you weren’t exactly the most organized. There were papers all over the table, piles of disorganized notes, and plans that didn’t match what you both wanted.

"This is a nightmare," Sevika muttered as she picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor. "How are we supposed to organize this if we can't even agree on a venue?"

You sat down in the chair, watching the disaster around you. "I know," you sighed, running your hands through your hair. "I wanted it to be simple, but it seems like I can't even do that right."

Sevika let out a bitter laugh, a sound you knew all too well. "Simple? Everything here is a disaster, and we're up to our necks in nonsense. I don't know if I'm the worst at this or if it’s just that this isn’t what I imagined."

Both of you were overwhelmed, and the tension was building. The lack of organization and control wasn’t just reflecting the physical chaos, but also the underlying anxieties of both of you.

"I told you, Sevika, this doesn’t make sense! We’re not getting anything right, and I feel like we’re already ruining everything." Your voice rose with frustration because you not only felt the wedding was out of control, but that this lack of success in the small details was affecting you more than you wanted to admit.

Sevika looked at you intently, frustration clear in her eyes. "And what did you expect? We're not people who do everything perfectly. We’re used to improvising, surviving, doing things our way." Her tone hardened, as if she was trying to justify what had happened. "I don’t know why you thought this would be different."

"Because it’s our wedding, Sevika! It’s not the same as always!" You were about to lose your temper. "I’m tired of you solving everything with ‘we’ll improvise’. This is important to me, and it matters a lot, do you understand?"

Sevika stepped closer, her taller frame and steady gaze making it clear this discussion had escalated too far. "I know, I know… but what I’m telling you is I don’t want it to be a traditional 'under control' wedding. Enough with the outside pressures." Her voice was softer but no less intense. "You know what scares me the most? That I don’t know if I’m capable of doing this right, that everything I plan won’t be enough for you. Because I know I’m not perfect. I’ve always been a warrior, not a princess who wants to sit at a fancy table."

A sharp pain pierced you as you heard her words. It wasn’t just about the wedding. There was something deeper in her tone. "It’s not about that, babe," you said, frustration transforming into a softness that took over you. "I just want it to be our moment. But it seems like we can’t even agree on the smallest thing."

Silence filled the room for a moment. Sevika, with her gaze fixed on the floor, seemed to be thinking. Finally, she stepped closer and, unexpectedly, placed her hand over yours.

"I’m sorry," she said, her voice softer, full of sincerity. "I didn’t want this to affect you so much. What’s going on is… I’m scared, you know? All of this is new to me. I’m not used to planning something so… so personal, and that scares me."

You were taken aback by her vulnerability. "I understand you’re scared, I’m scared too. But do you know what makes me lose that fear? Remembering that I’ll be with you, that we’re making the ultimate promise to share our lives together," you said, feeling the intensity of the connection between you both. "What matters is that, even if everything feels like a disaster, we’ll be together."

She smiled almost imperceptibly, with a mix of sadness and relief. "Do you really think I can’t do it right?"

"No, it’s not that," you replied, gently touching her face. "What I mean is, it doesn’t matter if everything is a disaster, as long as it’s our disaster."

A sigh escaped Sevika. "You’re right."

Both of you remained silent for a moment, understanding that perfection wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was what you shared, and that was more than enough for either of you.

Sevika, now calmer, hugged you softly. "We’ll do it right, doll. I promise."

You smiled, relieved. "Yeah, I know."

And, even though the wedding was still a mess, the only thing that mattered was that it was your mess. Your love was the only thing you needed to make everything make sense.

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simpjaes · 5 hours ago

Text

wife material.

Anonymous asked: Being arranged to jay in a marriage and hes distant at first but notices his new partner who has a nice plush ass, wide hips and plump tits. His brain goes mmm breeding material but youre just an innocent girl with a pornstar body?

WORDCOUNT: 1.1k

NOTE: tumblr wouldn't let me answer it as an ask :/ also, not proofread.

So, you're in an arranged marriage for more than one reason. Rather than being "innocent", you're just a total bimbo. Fr, everything you've ever wanted or needed has been handed to you on a silver platter. Your parents are super protective of you though, mostly out of fear that you'd be taken advantage of, right? right.

So, you've never had a boyfriend, no girlfriend, no friends [outside of the maids and nannies that you spend so much time with.] You were homeschooled, never expected to go to college either, because why work if you're already well taken care of and financially protected?

Your parents suggest an arranged marriage, mostly so they can choose and judge who you will be spending your life with. They don't trust you to go out into the world and find someone suitable, after all, so....why not make an arranged marriage work for the whole family? Jay is the first son of a rich C.E.O and is expected to take over the business sooner rather than later. He's polite, bordering too-stoic, but very much a good man in your parent's eyes. He appears to see the arrangement as a business deal rather than anything else, after all, he was raised much like you were except...he's a man. He has needs, and they are frequently met by using the lovely little black card. He's not looking for love anyway, the late nights to the VIP club lounges is really all he needs. Until he saw you. Until he fucking saw you. What he thought would be a great boost to business and a good little photo op, where you're married to him but both of you just do your own thing....turns into, well-

"Shit, are you a virgin?" Jay shushes you before you can answer. Your little whimper of "It hurts" ringing too loudly in his ears. Still, he feels the nod as he presses your face into the pillows with a hand at the back of your neck.

His eyes roll back in pleasure at your nod. Honestly, with a body like that? A virgin? He'd have figured you've fucked around by now. But you haven't, and that just might be the greatest thing he's heard all fucking day. So, he points his hips with intention now, penetrating deep. If at all because he can't fucking help it.

"Can't believe they're just giving you to me." You can't answer with the corner of the pillow in your mouth and all, but even if you could, you wouldn't know what to say to him. Marriage. Business. He'd support you, wait on you hand and foot? Yes. That's what you expected. Honestly, the idea of sex has been forbidden from you for so long that you half expected your father to keep that rule with Jay too, even after marriage. And here you are, meeting him briefly at his house just a week before the wedding. Your driver had dropped you off, the intention of the visit being to finalize all of the wedding details and put in any last opinions considering neither of you are planning it. You really didn't expect to find yourself face down on Jay's bed, where he ushered you the moment he saw you. Muttering something along the lines of "You're alone? Fucking finally." It's not like you entirely mind either, it's not like he didn't immediately make out with you all the way to his bedroom. It's not like you didn't make out with him right back, even if you were surprised. It's really just the fact that you were totally unprepared to have a cock that big shoved in you for the first time on a Monday afternoon. You've wondered for years what it was like to have sex, anyway, always fumbling around with your fingers and never quite feeling as good or as full as you do now. It's overwhelmingly hot, pleasurable, even. And the fact that Jay is handsome only makes this that much better. You'll be marrying him next week anyway, why does it matter if you're letting him do this right now? After next week, your father will no longer be controlling what you do. It'll be Jay, if he wants to. You can only imagine the amount of sex the two of you will be having after it's official, so...you enjoy it. Moaning, groaning, feeling that pit in your stomach intensify with each push of his cock inside of you, his breath on your shoulder, whispering filth to you between questions to get to know you. To anyone else, it would seem insane. But the fact of the matter is, you've never actually been together alone. Never had the opportunity to really get to know each other. "You want kids?" He had whispered right against your neck, pushing deeper into you and holding himself there. You nod. "How many?" He half-groans. You managed to moan out a "4", which had him moving faster, harder. "Yeah?" He hummed, kissing your prickled skin and well aware that you're going to have him wrapped around your fucking pinky. "You feel that?" And there it is, the feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you, thick ropes of cum shooting deep against your cervix, the promise of pregnancy coming along side the ring he's about to put on your finger. You moan out, surprised by how you can feel it spilling out of you with each sensitive thrust he offers to you, seemingly pushing his cum in and out of you while simultaneously snaking his hand under you to reach your clit. A whine falls from your lips at the sudden orgasm, so so sensitive, a feeling so intense and new because even when you played with yourself, never did you reach climax like this. You shake under him, clenching his spent length through your own orgasm until he gently pulls out and flips you over. He eyes you over, only now able to see you this closely because he finally got you alone without one of your parent's attached to your side. You really are totally his fucking type. And you're all his. "I think this is going to work out." He mumbles, inspecting you even more closely, ashamed that he didn't even get your top off before pressing you down on his bed. Embarrassed that he didn't have you facing him through your first time. He'll make it up to you next time.

"I'll take good care of you, and I'll be more gentle too." He continues, watching you try to regain your balance of breath. "I didn't know you were a virgin..."

You smile, eyes drowsy, suddenly feeling very sleepy...comfortable. Knowing that this will be the very bed you'll be sleeping in soon enough.

"It's okay." You whisper, clearing your throat and then repeating it in a more confident voice. "If I didn't like it, I would just tell my dad."

Jay's eyes widen, fear reaching his expression as he stares down at you, but you're quick to reassure him.

"I did like it, by the way."

#enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #jay smut #enhypen hard hours

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thef1diary · 13 hours ago

Note

hi!! first of all wanted to say that i LOVE your work! I'd like to request a smut <3

so i was thinking about carlos w a somno kink, praise kink and some dacryphilia. i'd also like an innocence kink so maybe like inexperienced!reader. oh, and aftercare too! thanks ^_^

Deep Dark Desire | C. Sainz

warnings: 18+ content, dark!carlos, non-con, possessive!carlos, hint of stalker behaviour, manipulation, carlos sneaking sleeping pills in food, somnophilia, oral, fingering, innocent!virgin!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, mentions of pregnancy, aftercare.

wc: 6.5k

— this is a dark fic! please read the warnings and do not read this fic if any of the topics make you uncomfortable. Don’t like, don’t read!

The aroma of something sweet and savoury greeted you the moment you stepped through the door. You let the weight of the day melt off your shoulders as you kicked off your shoes, too tired to process anything beyond the simple comfort of being home. Carlos was already in the kitchen, his dark hair slightly tousled and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he stirred a pot on the stove.

He turned at the sound of your soft footsteps, his face lighting up with a smile that was all warmth and devotion. “There you are, princesa,” he said, setting the spoon down to cross the room to stand in front of you. His hands found your shoulders immediately, his thumbs pressing gently into the tense muscles there. “Long day?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch with a sigh. Carlos had a way of making you feel cared for in ways you hadn’t known you needed. He always seemed to know what you wanted before you did—what to say, how to look at you, how to touch you just enough to make your heart flutter but not so much that you’d question the boundaries of your relationship.

“I made dinner,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he guided you to the kitchen table. “Sit. Eat. Let me take care of you.”

You sank into the chair, too weary to protest. Carlos placed a steaming plate in front of you, the dish carefully prepared, every detail perfect. You couldn’t help but smile at the effort he’d gone to, even after such a long day himself.

“You’re too good to me,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.

His smile deepened, but there was something in his gaze—something you couldn’t quite name. It was too intense, too knowing, as though he were looking at more than just your face. It made your stomach twist, though you quickly dismissed it as exhaustion.

Carlos sat across from you, his elbows resting on the table as he watched you eat. His presence was comforting, grounding. And yet, there was an edge to his attention that you never noticed, a shadow lurking beneath the surface of his affection.

Because while you saw only his patience—his endless sweetness, his gentle guidance—there was so much more to Carlos that you didn’t see. That he didn’t let you see…yet.

You didn’t see the way his hands tightened into fists every time someone else’s name—especially a man’s name—slipped into your stories from work. You didn’t hear the quiet, possessive promises whispered into the stillness of the apartment when you were sound asleep. You didn’t know how carefully he kept track of your every habit, your every move, until he knew you better than you knew yourself. It was how he managed to charm you into a relationship with him in the first place.

From the moment he saw you, he was smitten. Carlos loved you. But as time went on, the more he found the extent of your innocence—the very one that made you pliable and trusting. He loved that you let him lead in all aspects, oblivious to the dark currents beneath his tenderness. It was those very thoughts about you he held close that turned his love for you into a crazed obsession.

You had no idea that the man who seemed so devoted, so perfect, would do anything to keep you his—even if it meant crossing lines you didn’t yet know existed.

“Eat, nena,” he said softly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. His fingers brushed your wrist, lingering just a moment too long. “You need to keep your strength up.”

And as you took another bite, smiling faintly at his concern, you missed the way his gaze darkened, the way his lips curved into a smile that wasn’t sweet at all.

Carlos rested his chin on his hand, his dark eyes fixed on you as you took careful bites of the meal he had prepared. Your free hand held his other hand, his thumb tracing slow, soothing patterns. Every so often, you’d glance up at him, smiling softly, touched by the care he had put into it. The flavours were rich and comforting, the kind of food that made you feel safe. You wondered, briefly, how you’d gotten so lucky to have someone like him in your life.

But as you ate, a question tugged at the back of your mind. You set your fork down gently and tilted your head. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Carlos’ lips twitched into a faint smile, and he shook his head. “Not yet. This one’s special. Just for you.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made your cheeks flush slightly. You didn’t even consider questioning him further. Of course, he would do something like this—go out of his way to make you feel cared for without expecting anything in return. That’s just how Carlos is.

Still, there was something about the way he said ‘special’ that lingered in your mind, a weight to the word you couldn’t quite place. But the thought slipped away as a wave of exhaustion rolled over you, your body suddenly heavy and your eyelids drooping.

You blinked rapidly, shaking your head as if to clear it. “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” you murmured, dropping his hand and rubbing at your temple. “I wasn’t this bad earlier.”

Carlos’ expression shifted instantly, his brows furrowing with concern as he leaned closer to you. His hand found yours again—not able to handle the sudden loss of warmth—his thumb brushing soothing circles over your skin.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. His other hand reached out, fingertips brushing your forehead as if to check for a fever. “You’ve had a long day, mi vida. You need to rest.”

You wanted to smile at his worry, to reassure him that it was nothing serious. But your head felt so heavy, the corners of your vision blurring as your body sagged further into the chair. You fought against the haze, focusing on the soft lines of Carlos’ face, his worried eyes, the way his lips pressed together in a tight line.

If only you’d known the truth behind that worry. If only you’d seen the darkness that twisted through the depths of his concern.

“Here,” he murmured, reaching for the glass of water on the table. He pressed it into your hand, guiding it to your lips. “Drink this, cariño. And then go lie down. I’ll clean up.”

You shook your head weakly, your grip on the glass faltering as you set it down. “No, I’ll finish my food first. You put so much effort into this for me…”

Carlos’ hand hovered near yours, as though ready to steady you if you faltered again. His smile was small, patient, but there was a flicker of something sharper in his gaze—something you didn’t notice in your foggy state.

“You’re too kind,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “Always thinking of others. But I just want you to rest.”

You managed a faint smile, brushing off his suggestion as you picked up your fork again. “Just a little more,” you mumbled.

Carlos didn’t protest, leaning back in his chair as he watched you with an intensity that should have made you shiver. But you were too distracted by the growing weight in your limbs, the way your head felt as if it were floating. Bite by bite, your exhaustion deepened, and you didn’t realize that the cause wasn’t your long day at all—it was the food, his careful planning, and his quiet, calculated patience.

He rested his chin on his palm once more, his smile widening ever so slightly as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “That’s it, nena,” he murmured, his voice almost tender. “You’re doing so well.”

And you, sweet and trusting as always, didn’t think to question the strange satisfaction in his voice.

The room seemed to spin slightly as you set your fork down, the last few bites of your meal left untouched. You blinked, trying to focus on Carlos’ face, but even that felt like too much effort. Your head lolled to the side as a sleepy giggle escaped your lips, the kind of unguarded sound that came when exhaustion stripped you of your usual composure.

“Carlos, baby, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmured, your words slurring slightly. “I’m so… tired.”

He was already by your side, his hands steady as they slipped beneath your arms to lift you from the chair. “Shh, nena,” he cooed, his voice soft and soothing. “Let me take care of you. You’ve done enough today.”

Before you could protest, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. Your arms looped lazily around his neck, and you let out another sleepy giggle, your breath warm against his skin.

“I can walk, you know,” you mumbled, though the comfort of his hold was undeniable.

Carlos chuckled, the sound deep and warm, “you’re barely awake, mi vida. Let me spoil you a little.”

He carried you to the bedroom, his movements careful and deliberate as though he were handling something fragile. The dim light of the room seemed to blur at the edges as he set you down on the bed, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment too long.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He helped you out of your clothes, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart flutter even in your haze. You didn’t question it, didn’t register the way his touch lingered, how his gaze darkened as you were left in nothing but your undergarments and put into one of his long shirts.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It felt like a dream, the world around you fading as you slipped deeper into the heavy pull of sleep.

“Goodnight, princesa,” he whispered against your lips, his voice velvet-soft.

But as your eyes fluttered closed and your breathing evened out, Carlos lingered. He didn’t even manage to pull the blanket over you before he noticed how still you’d become, how utterly weightless you were in the depths of sleep. He called your name softly at first, his hand brushing your cheek, but there was no response.

His lips curved into a slow, dark smile, the shadows in his expression deepening as he realized you were completely at his mercy.

“So perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He traced a finger along your jawline, down the slope of your neck. “You don’t even know, do you? How much I crave you.”

His hand paused, hovering over your collarbone as his breath hitched slightly. “So innocent,” he whispered, his tone laced with something heavier, something darker. “And mine.”

Carlos let the words hang in the air, savouring the weight of them as he gazed down at you—his perfect little captive in a dark world you’d never even imagined existed.

There was a fragile innocence to the way you looked now, the soft lines of your face unburdened by the day’s worries, the slight parting of your lips as you breathed peacefully. He reached out, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek, his touch featherlight as if you might shatter beneath anything stronger.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, mi vida,” he whispered, his voice a low murmur in the quiet room. “How much I—” his words faltered, caught between his throat and his heart. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to exhale slowly. “How much I adore you.”

His fingers traced a path down your arm, stopping just above your wrist, where he lingered. You were so trusting, so unguarded with him. It filled him with an overwhelming ache, a desire to protect you, to shield you from the world. Yet that same trust was a double-edged sword, cutting deep into the darker corners of his mind where thoughts twisted into obsessions he could never confess.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there. “You’re too good for me,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Too kind. Too pure.” Each word carried the weight of unspoken truths, emotions he’d buried due to fear of frightening you. You deserved someone gentler, someone who wouldn’t feel this burning need to keep you so close, to ensure you never left his side.

But you were his. You just didn’t know how much just yet.

A pang of need coursed through him—deep, consuming, and utterly unrelenting. A lazy smirk graced his lips, his hands wandering over your body more than he’s ever done before. He didn’t stop, after all this was all part of his plan—his carefully crafted plan that would allow him to do whatever he pleased with you.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, almost as if confessing to himself. His hand moved instinctively, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch so tender it could’ve been mistaken for reverence. “How much I need you, completely.”

His mind wandered to your words from a few months ago, when you first began dating. You had sweetly confessed in a meek tone that you wanted to wait until marriage for any intimacy. At the time, he had nodded, reassured you that he understood and respected your decision. And he had, for a while. But with each passing day, every innocent touch from you, every fleeting moment of closeness, the restraint he prided himself on was unraveling.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, the words heavier this time, steeped in a quiet obsession. “You’ll always be mine.”

Carlos leaned down, his lips hovering just above your temple. He kissed you there softly, lingering as he inhaled the faint scent of your skin. The thought of you saving yourself for some abstract moment in the future felt intolerable now. A ring? A ceremony? Those things were meaningless to him. You were already his in every way that mattered. Every way but one, which he had planned on changing tonight.

“It doesn’t matter, right princesa?” he whispered as if conversing with your unconscious body. “A piece of paper won’t change what we are. What we’ll always be.”

You were an angel in his eyes—pure, untouchable—and yet he couldn’t stop acting on the darker thoughts that had crept in his mind. “You’ll let me take you now, right?” he asked, a wicked smile tugging at his lips when you didn’t respond.

“You’ll understand one day. You’d forgive me because you love me,” he spoke, relieved, finding a justification for what he was about to do. Love.

His fingers trailed down your body, finding the hem of your shirt. He inhaled deeply before pulling it up, revealing your bare skin underneath. The glow of the moonlight streaming through the curtains bathed you in a silver hue, making you seem almost otherworldly in his eyes.

He leaned forward, his knees sinking into the mattress as he settled between your legs, his body close but not touching yours just yet. Carlos lowered his head, his lips brushing against the curve of your stomach in the gentlest kiss. The warmth of your skin beneath his mouth sent a shiver coursing through him, and he allowed himself a quiet sigh, his breath fanning over you.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and something deeper, darker. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles over your skin. The rise and fall of your breathing was steady, unbroken, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how serene you looked, so trusting, so utterly unaware of the storm of emotions raging within him.

Carlos trailed another kiss just above your navel, the soft press of his lips lingering as though he could imprint the moment into his memory. His free hand slid up along your side, fingertips tracing the delicate lines of your ribs as he murmured softly, “I’ll make you feel so good.”

Carlos continued his trail of kisses, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your lower stomach before stopping just above the edge of your panties. He nearly hesitated, letting the intimacy of the moment build, before pressing his lips firmly against the soft cotton. The barrier of fabric only spurred his imagination further, and he closed his eyes as if savouring the moment.

His teeth grazed the edge of the fabric, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Carefully, he bit down, trapping the waistband between his teeth. He tilted his head, pulling the material taut as it lifted slightly away from your skin.

Carlos released the fabric, letting it snap back against your skin with a quick sound that sent a shiver of satisfaction through him. His hand, which had been resting on your side, slid down to your hip, his grip firm but not overbearing.

“You don’t even know how perfect you are,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His lips hovered just above your skin as he let out a soft exhale, his breath warm against your bare stomach. “Every inch of you, so soft, so untouched. You drive me insane, mi vida.”

His fingers ghosted along the inside of your leg, his touch featherlight yet deliberate, igniting a trail of warmth beneath his fingertips. He traced the edge of your panties, his thumb brushing over the thin fabric that covered the most intimate part of you. The part he was never allowed to touch.

The heat radiating from your body made his breath catch in his throat. His hand dipped lower, his fingers pressing lightly against your cunt, feeling the warmth and softness beneath the barrier of fabric. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he pressed a single finger against your covered clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles.

Carlos lowered his head, his lips so close now that his breath fanned over you, hot and unsteady. He paused, savouring the moment, before pressing a kiss right where his fingers had been, the contact soft yet deliberate. The fabric between you only added to his desire, a fleeting barrier that made the moment feel even more tantalizing.

Filled with dark intent, he glanced at you, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest to confirm you were still asleep. His hands moved with purpose now, his fingers hooking onto your panties. Carefully, he pulled the fabric to the side, his movements unhurried as if he had all the time in the world with your pliant body. His eyes darkened, breath hitching as he finally saw you all in your glory. He dragged his fingers over your now bare pussy, teasing the slit, separating your delicate folds.

The sight of your glistening pussy was too tempting to resist. He swiped his tongue across his lips, aching to taste your sweet cunt. “See, I knew you’d like this,” he whispered, watching your wetness grow with each slide of his fingers, coating them completely. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me have you, nena.”

He collected your slickness on his fingers before bringing them up to his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut as he slipped them between his lips, his tongue swirling around them greedily. The taste of you consumed him, rich and intoxicating, and he groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the quiet room.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured against his fingers, as though tasting you had confirmed something he’d always known. His gaze flickered back to you, his expression filled with a mix of awe and hunger.

His hand returned to your thighs, holding you gently yet firmly in place as though you might stir and pull away. But you didn’t move, your body relaxed and unaware under his touch. He let his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving a trail of slow, deliberate kisses as his other hand returned to your pussy. His fingers traced over you again, teasingly light, as though memorizing every moment.

“Dios mío,” he whispered, his voice thick with awe. “You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”

Finally, he pressed a lingering kiss to your bare pussy, his lips soft and warm against your folds. He started slowly, careful not to jolt you awake, his tongue tracing a gentle path along your slit. A low groan escaped him, the sound vibrating against you as he savoured every second.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled by his proximity. His tongue flicked over your clit with teasing precision before returning to lap at you more fully, his movements unhurried and methodical. Each stroke of his tongue was a worshipful caress, his hands holding your thighs steady as he worked.

Carlos alternated between firm, deliberate licks and soft, teasing circles over your clit, his mouth devouring you with a hunger he could no longer restrain. His fingers dug into your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises behind.

“Absolutely perfect,’ he said between kisses, his breath warm and ragged against your skin. He tilted his head slightly, his tongue delving deeper as his lips sealed over you, sucking gently before pulling away with a soft, wet sound.

A low groan bubbled from your throat, making him pause. He glanced up at you from between your legs but you were still sucked into the depths of sleep. He chuckled, almost in awe at your subconscious reaction. “Mm, there we go, I know you like this.”

While he continued flicking his tongue over your clit mercilessly, his fingers teased your hole. He couldn’t believe it’s been untouched all your life—even you hadn’t dared to learn how to please yourself, leaving it up to your future husband. He found it rather cute, so innocent. He wished you allowed him to fuck you while you were conscious just so he could see your eyes rolling back, your lips parting as a soft sweet moan would’ve escaped when he slid his finger inside.

Instead, he had to settle for a groan that came from him when you shifted just an inch. Your pussy swallowed his finger greedily, clenching around him as it struggled to decide if it was a welcomed intrusion or not.

Carlos retreated his finger, briefly glancing at the wetness that coated it before pushing back in. He set a steady pace, allowing your body to become accustomed to the unusual intrusion before adding another finger. He curled them inside, and if you were conscious, perhaps you would arch your back as pleas left your lips.

His hardened cock ached to be released from the confines of his boxers, precum staining them yet he focused on your pleasure first. He might’ve chosen to take you in a vulnerable moment, one in which you had no say, but he wasn’t cruel. He settled on moving his hips against the mattress, allowing temporary relief while he prepped you to take him.

He was now three fingers deep in your cunt, scissoring and curling them inside to prepare you for the inevitable stretch his cock will provide. Leaning closer, he wrapped his lips around your clit again, sucking sharply in time with his quickening thrusts. Wetness gushed around him, coating his lips and fingers, even dripping down to stain the sheets beneath you. Pressing one last kiss to your cunt, he retreated his fingers completely, watching your pussy gape before clenching around air, searching for the lost pleasure.

“Patience, nena, I know what your pretty little pussy needs,” he murmured breathlessly.

He leaned back, kneeling on the bed as he hooked his fingers in his sweatpants and boxers in one go before sliding them down together and tossing the clothes aside. His hard, leaking cock ached to be inside you, enveloped by the warmth that only your virgin pussy would provide. His fingers dipped inside your cunt, collecting your wetness before wrapping his hand around himself. He smeared your slickness all over his cock, mixing with his precum that dripped from the tip.

Carlos dropped his head back, moaning shamelessly as he worked his hand over himself. Whispered curses left his lips mixed with murmurs of your name as he neared the edge rather too quickly. He shut his eyes tightly when he forced himself to slow down his pace, not wanting his fantasy to be over before it even properly started.

When he opened his eyes, he looked at you—still unaware, softly snoring away. He smiled as he trailed his gaze over your body, but when he reached the beautiful sight between your legs, he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, preventing another moan from being unleashed.

He couldn’t wait any longer, almost overcome with another wave of dark intent swirling in his mind. Holding his cock in one hand, he lowered his body, settling between your thighs again. The first swipe of his tip along your cunt had him shuddering with pleasure.

Separating your delicate folds with his cock, he nudged your clit a few times. Your pussy twitched around him, and feeling that sensation through his cock only reaffirmed his reasons as to why he chose to do this. He was already obsessed, but that one taste of your cunt turned him feral, unable to restrain himself any further. He was too far gone, and he wouldn’t stop until he was buried deep inside you.

He slid his cock lower, guiding it towards your hole. Inch by inch, he pressed inside. Your tight cunt almost naturally pushed him out, your sleeping state squirming at the thick intrusion. He didn’t relent, he was going to have you one way or another. Bringing his free hand closer, his fingers circled your clit slowly, allowing you to open up to him.

“C’mon, princesa, I know you can take all of me,” he gritted through his teeth, your tightness almost overwhelming for him.

He pulled out until only his tip remained inside before pushing back in, forcing you to take him an inch deeper this time. His pace on your clit remained merciless and as he repeated his movements a few times, he was soon completely buried inside your pussy.

A low exhale left his lips as he savoured the tight walls of your cunt holding him inside, the heat welcoming him graciously. He held himself above you by his hands on each side of your head, his face hovering close to yours. “Thank you, mi vida, I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he whispered almost reverently to your sleeping state.

Inhaling deeply, he began moving slowly, barely pulling out before burying himself to the hilt again. Burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, he set a steady pace of his hips moving back and forth. He placed lingering kisses below your ear, murmuring low praises in between his moans.

Your pussy greedily sucked him back in every time, earning a dark chuckle from him. “Oh, my sweet girl, if only you hadn’t made me wait so long.”

He slammed his hips into yours sharply, angling deep inside you to earn a twitch of your body. “I tried, you know, I really did,” he confessed, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear. “But every time you wore those—mierda—skimpy clothes around me,” he panted softly, “it was too hard.”

He continued whispering all his deepest, darkest confessions in your ear, knowing you weren’t awake to listen. “Had to jerk off so many times in the shower, thinkin’ ‘bout your sweet voice, to the way you say my name.”

As his words turned filthier, mingling with scattered praises, he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming borderline brutal. Your body squirmed beneath him, jolting with the movements of the mattress shaking due to his weight. The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust, but he was lost in the pleasure of your tight cunt to notice.

“I love you so much, mi princesa, and I promise I’ll give you a ring,” he reasoned, his thoughts melting into one jumbled mess. “Jus’ couldn’t wait.”

Suddenly, a loud broken cry left your lips as your body jolted beneath him. His movements faltered, watching you with wide eyes as you forced yourself to wake. When your gaze met his, a shroud of horror overtook your emotions. “Carlos—” you gasped, your mouth dropping open as you slowly realized the vulnerable position you were in.

He should’ve stopped, should’ve slipped out of your cunt the moment he realized you were awake—too early, he noted—but he didn’t. Sliding out almost completely, he slammed his hips into yours, his cock forcing itself into your cunt.

You screamed, horrified, yet it was tinged with a hint of pleasure—the only reaction he focused on. “Mi vida,” he tried, only to be met with a sudden force of your arms trying to push him away.

He merely chuckled, watching as you grew impatient with each shove yet you were still too weak, slowly coming to from the effects of the sleeping pill he had slipped into your meal. Tears filled your eyes when you realized he wasn’t relenting, your lip wobbling as fear filled your body.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, bringing his fingers to your face, lightly brushing your cheek. “No, don’t cry, nena, I only want you to feel good,” he cooed.

His words clashed with his actions, his voice still dripping with sweetness but his cock continued to bully to your pussy. “Why?” you croaked, eyes nearly rolling back as an unwanted wave of pleasure coursed through you.

“Because I love you,” he simply replied, but it wasn’t the words you were hoping to hear. How could he love you and still force his way into your cunt, without your permission?

This wasn’t the Carlos you fell in love with, no, he was kind and caring. But now, trapped beneath him, you only saw desire in his eyes, those very eyes that once looked at you fondly were now replaced with the reflection of every dark thought that lodged its way into his mind.

His fingers returned to your clit, circling in time with his thrusts, earning a broken moan from you. A wicked smile graced his lips as he finally heard the sweet sound of your pleasure. “You like this,” he said calmly but you didn’t agree.

You began shaking your head violently, trying to contain the moans leaving your lips but it was too hard. This was the first time you were bestowed with such pleasure, enveloping you completely. You never expected it to happen this way, your virginity taken not by your husband on your wedding night but stolen from your boyfriend with cruel intentions.

“No, no, no, please stop,” you pleaded, but your actions weren’t cooperating with your words. Your legs tightened around his waist as you inched closer to the edge of your very first orgasm.

“Make up your mind, nena, you say you don’t want me, and yet…” he trailed off, angling his hips differently to thrust deeper inside, earning another moan you couldn’t contain. “...you’re clinging to me so desperately.”

“Please,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Please what? Let me make you feel good, like you deserve,” he punctuated his words with deliberate thrusts. Pleasure coursed through your veins like a spark, clouding your better judgement as you fell closer and closer to giving in.

When you didn’t respond, he doubled down, slipping his cock out of you for a brief moment, earning a cry of loss from your lips. He grinned, knowing he nearly had you exactly where he wanted you—begging, pleading to let you cum. “You’re mine, we both know that, why wait?”

He didn’t give you time to process his words, his strength overpowering yours as he flipped you over effortlessly, pressing you face down into the mattress. His hands gripped your shoulders with firm control, guiding you back onto his cock with a deliberate and unyielding force that left you breathless.

Each thrust of his hips drew muffled moans from your lips, the sounds swallowed by the soft embrace of the bedding as you buried your face to stifle your cries. Any semblance of dignity you had clung to slipped away completely, shattered the moment his hands claimed you with ill intentions—so dominating, so consuming that resistance felt futile.

His chest pressed flush against your back, the heat of his skin searing into yours as he slowed his pace, trading relentless urgency for deep, deliberate strokes. Each thrust felt more intense, his cock filling you completely, dragging out every sensation as he ground himself deeper with agonizing precision.

A shiver ran down your spine as his lips brushed against the back of your neck, soft and teasing as first, until he began trailing kisses lower. His lips moved with purpose, leaving a blazing path over the curve of your shoulder blades, before his teeth grazed your skin.

You gasped in surprise when he sucked harder, his mouth marking you with a bruise that promised to linger long after this moment. The sharp sting melded with the overwhelming pleasure, leaving you caught in a haze of sensation you couldn’t escape—ones he wouldn’t let you escape.

Each kiss, each bite, each slow, grinding thrust made it harder to think, harder to hold on to anything but the raw desire pooling in your core.

Your body trembled beneath him, every thrust breaking down the last of your defences, leaving you raw and exposed. The slow grind of his hips was torture, pushing you to the brink only to pull back, keeping you on the edge until the need became unbearable. You clawed at the sheets, your whimpers turning into desperate pleas as the fire in your core burned hotter, threatening to consume you.

“Please,” you gasped, your voice muffled against the mattress. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. Just—just take me. I’ll do anything.”

Carlos chuckled darkly, his lips grazing the back of your neck as he drove into you harder, his pace quickening, his control slipping. “Anything, huh?” his voice was rough, dripping with amusement and something darker, something that made your entire body shiver. “You’re finally giving in, princesa? Finally ready to stop pretending you don’t want this?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you surrendered completely. “I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you want—just don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust harder, deeper, making you cry out. “That’s what I wanted to hear. You, begging for me. Pleading for me to fuck you.”

Your pussy clenched around him, the coil of pleasure winding impossibly tight as his words sent sparks of heat racing through you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus on anything but him—his touch, his voice, the way he owned you completely.

“Gonna fill you with my cum, nena,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “Gonna get you pregnant with my babies before I even put a ring on your finger. How’s that for waiting ‘til marriage?”

The filthy promise made your head spin, the image too vivid, too overwhelming. The heat in your core shattered, a cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm washed over you, leaving you trembling and gasping beneath him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his pace growing erratic as your cunt milked him, dragging him to the edge. “You’re so perfect—so fucking perfect.”

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his release spilling into you in hot pulsing waves. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he let out a low, guttural groan.

“You feel that?” he murmured against your ear, his voice still rough, still full of that possessive edge that made you weak. “That’s me, claiming you. Making you mine.”

You couldn’t utter a word, your thoughts racing through your mind before you could comprehend them. Your body was still trembling as he stayed there, buried deep inside you, his hands never letting go. Finally, he eased out, earning a low, almost silent whimper from you. He carefully turned you around, able to see your tinged cheeks stained with tears.

He gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. His cock twitched at the sight of your teary eyes, and the dark intensity in his gaze made your heart race, even as a sly, satisfied smirk spread across his lips.

“See, I know exactly what you want, what you need,” he said, his tone teasing but firm. “Don’t ever try to deny me again, nena, because this? This is just the beginning.”

His grip loosened, fingers brushing over your jaw as his smirk softened into something almost tender. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and all-consuming, his tongue coaxing yours into submission. It wasn’t rough like before—it was possessive in a different way, claiming you in the quiet aftermath of his dominance. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as the intensity in his gaze began to soften.

“You took me so well,” he murmured, his voice low and warm now, threading a hand through your hair. “Better than I could’ve imagined. You’re perfect, nena, just like this.”

He eased you back against the mattress, his body still covering yours but lighter now, more protective than overwhelming. His thumb stroked over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear as his lips brushed against your temple.

He cupped your face, tilting it up toward him again, his expression softer, though the possessiveness still lingered in his eyes. “Stay here,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping away.

You heard the sound of water running, the rustle of fabric as he moved around, and when he returned, he had a warm, damp cloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He settled beside you, his touch impossibly gentle as he cleaned you up, murmuring soothing words each time you winced from the sensitivity.

“You did so good for me, princesa,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your hip as he worked. “Took everything I gave you like you were made for it.”

When he finished, he set the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his warmth. His chest was solid against your cheek, his heartbeat steady and grounding as he stroked your back in slow, comforting circles.

“Gotta make sure my girl’s okay,” he said softly, the edge of dominance in his voice replaced with something deeper, almost protective. “You’re mine, nena. Mine to protect, mine to love, mine to ruin in all the ways you crave. And I’ll never let anything or anyone take you away from me.”

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 2 days ago

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Wrong move | The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: He thought you were in love with him....maybe he needs to show you how much you need him.

Warnings: SFW - Possessive!Salesman - Obsessive!Salesman - Controling!Salesman - Red flag basically - Unhealthy relationship - Power imbalance - DARK!Salesman - grammar mistakes -

Note: Not part of "Home Bliss", this is a different universe.

"No"

These were the words that have been in the Salesman's mind for a week now. His aparment, a place he used to love coming to since you were here waiting for him now felt like a empy box. Walls too grey to look at, too dull. The food did not have teaste and his bed felt too big.

When did things go wrong ? He did everything right.

Saw you one day at the local park, got enamoured by you. Followed you around, got to know your schendelure so he could see you from afar. Was able to hack your phone to know every last detail. Your social media were poorly secured. He got to know you like he knew his own skin, when he finally did approach you, you were already his.

And after two years, two years of beautiful moments together, perfectly crafted by him, each one calculated and made so you would fall more and more for him. He got you to move in with him, he was accepted by your friends, your family loved him, and saw him like part of it.

He was sure, centrain that this was the right moment. The perfect one. This was your favorite season, favorite month, perfect hour of the day and a well secured place so you would not feel pressure over it.

Some part of him wanted you to come to him willing.

But your words were marked liked fire. The exchange and after events lived rent free inside his head.

How he had managed to keep his facade he has no idea. The aparment (after you refused to get back) was the one that suffered his rage. All the expensive forniture was destroyed by him, some walls had blood by how much he had punched them.

He was a mess, a disaster. How could yo do it ? After everything? Weren't you two the perfect match ?

A ding from his phone, the ding he had set just for you sounded.

"Sorry, I think its better if we stop seeing each other. I will pass to get my things soon"

The phone went flying. Were you breaking up with him by text ? When he had read all the exchange with your friends ? Like how scared you were and how fast it felt. Why were you doing this?

And your doubts ? He never saw them, you seemed content by his side. And loved him like that.

But your personal diary on your phone said different. You felt trapped, like he knew too much, like he was not being honest.

Maybe he should have been more...severe? Showing you just how bad he could be, maybe he let your leash go too large and now he was paying the consequences.

But would he give up ? No. After all you were just confused, and scared, you just needed a reminder of how much you needed him. How he could be the only one for you.

He took the phone back, the screen broke but other functions working. He ignored your message and instead went to his contacts. He had many friends, friends that could ruin you completly.

"I need a favor"

Leaving him was the start of your nightmare.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

At first the relationship was fine. How does peopel put it ? Honeymoon? Well you two had it for very long.

He was the man any woman could ask for, gentle, caring, doting, never forgot a special date. And would get your favorite things.

But something was off. His eyes, the same dark eyes that sparked when he saw you, these eyes would change to sharp and cold around others. You felt like he was always on you, even when being away for work, he would just know when to send you a message or call you.

Would meet you randomly on the streets, knew when you wanted to do something even when you never mentioned it.

Something was wrong. Your gut told you to run from him but you did not know how. After all on the eyes of everyone he was perfect.

Then he asked to marry you, and you saw your chance. You could say you got scared and that things just did not work out after it.

But it did not go that way.

Once you had got your things from his aparment your Boss called, he had said how sorry he was but the company was cutting off some employees and you were one of them.

Your work, your dream work. The one you had passed years preparing yourself, tears and blood for it. The one that made your parents proud.

Ripped out from you with one call.

Then it came your social circle. Slowly your Friends stopped meeting with you, some removed you from their social media, and some blocked your number. You never got to know what was wrong, or what you did.

And later your parents, it was a shame losing your job, it was worse not being able to get another one.

"Sorry we are looking for something different"

"Your solicitude was read but right now we need another thing"

"We will call you"

Rent became impossible, and so you had to move back with them. Your mother was not happy, telling you how much of a failure you were, how your brother was making money overseas and how your sister had made a family.

Your father did not even look at you. Like he felt guilty, not even the company he used to work for would take you in.

Your days became a circle of sending out curriculums and doing your best to keep your parents happy even when you knew they did not want you there.

And some days you would go to the park and cry. Not caring if others saw you, your life was ruined, you had nothing. Maybe....maybe if you had said yes....

Checking your phone you saw the contacts, mom, dad, brother, sister and him. You were sure you had removed his number but it kept coming back. Maybe you were getting sick because of the stress. Your finger went over the call buttom till you finally hitted it.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

He never wanted to see you like this, so broken, so out of life. Maybe he had insolated you too much. Let some lies to your Friends and mother that grew and now they hated you. Your father was a rough one, he had used some...other methods for him. But did coperate at the end.

"You dont seem so good" Were his first words and you looked down at your lap.

"Im sorry for have called you.., after everything"

"Dont say anything. I was glad I got your call. I wanted to know how you were doing" He lied, he knew you were miserable.

Only him could fix it.

"I have...well things have been bad" You addmited "I dont want to burden you with it, maybe this was a mistake"

You went to get up and leave but a firm grip on your hand stopped you. His eyes, cold and sharp like he was seeing his prey.

You, you were his prey.

"Sit" It was an order not a request "Lets talk for a bit more, maybe I can help you, for the old times"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Are you sure? (Y/N) you can still go back and say no" Your fathers voice cut off.

You were wearing a beautiful weeding dress, outside from a ceremenoy to take place.

"Dad...you have been saying that since I told mom and you that I was getting married. This is good, we actually made up and I even got my work back, with double pay. Was not what you wanted for me?"

Your father did not respond. He still remembers that night. The night your "perfect" boyfriend appear. When he told him how your life would be so bad you would be wishing you were gone.

"And if thats not enoguh, maybe leaving her limp like you will do the trick"

He had tried for many months to hide his injury, the injury that man had caused him and promised to do the same to you.

"Dad? Its your leg hurting? You are crying"

"No dear, im fine. A little emotional to see you go"

When the doors opened and he walked you in and saw the monster you were going to marry he felt like dying there. When he gave you to him he could see it, he was liking his pain.

"I will take good care of her" Were his only words, and by the time his eyes were on you it had changed.

Love? Obsession ? A twisted sense of care ? No one could tell, no one dared to ask.

Him ? He was just happy you finally accepted what was best for you.

Him, he was the best for you.

"Till death do us apart"

Not even death would be able to separate you from him.

#squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #squid game x reader #the salesman x reader #the recruiter x reader

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villain-enthusiast · 2 days ago

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TOUCH-STARVED HERO RAHH.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, actually,” the hero muttered from their sloppy position on the ground, though the oozing gash slicing across their torso and the fresh bruises circling their throat said otherwise.

The villain arched a brow, crouching down so they were eye level with the hero. “Do you think I’m dumb?”

The hero glowered at them. “Seems like you're deaf, actually. I said I’m fine,” they snapped, even as pain shuddered through their battered body. “Now if you could just get out of my way—,”

“Darling, please. You couldn’t stand up even if you tried, let alone walk yourself halfway across the city to your apartment.” The villain smirked at the hero’s deepening scowl, but the teasing flair didn't quite reach their eyes. “Let me do you a small favor while I’m here, at least.”

The hero bared their teeth. “Fuck off. I don’t need your stupid healing powers. You'll probably turn this into one of your idiotic bargains—," A harsh coughing fit cut them off, rattling their chest.

They tasted blood on their tongue. Fuck.

“Gosh, so prideful." The villain sighed, tilting their head. "Oh look at that, you're bleeding." They lifted a hand and ran a thumb over their hero's lips, wiping away a smattering of blood that had spilled from their mouth.

The hero's breath hitched at the villain's touch, the smallest, most delicate of noises escaping them before they could stop themselves.

The villain paused, their brow furrowing as their gaze took in every little movement and detail of the hero's involuntary response.

The hero's jaw tightened. Every muscle in their body screamed at them to get away, but they couldn't move. Or was it that they didn't want to move? "Villain, I swear—,"

Then the villain’s hand was cupping their cheek, and the hero melted.

A desperate whimper tore from their throat, their head lolling into the cool touch of the villain's palm as all the pain and exhaustion radiating through their body suddenly evaporated.

They closed their eyes, feeling their face begin to burn with shame.

"Oh, sweetheart," the villain murmured. Their other hand swept through the matted strands of the hero's hair, working through the tangles.

The hero had to bite down on their lip so that they didn't make another embarrassing noise. So gentle. The villain's touch was so, so gentle. So at odds to their earlier opponent's strangling grip and blinding punches, so contrasting to gaping loneliness and helplessness of coming home to no one, of having to painfully stitch themselves up day after day after day...

The villain brushed away a tear that the hero didn't realize had fallen.

"Hey, look at me," the villain said softly, nudging their chin up. The hero blinked at them, fighting back a sob. "You need to let me heal you, okay? You're losing a lot of blood."

The hero swallowed, barely processing the villain's words, their brain entirely occupied by the hand still on their face—or maybe it was just the blood loss. "Yeah," they managed, voice hoarse. It felt like their vocal chords were coated in tar.

"I'm going to do your stomach first," the villain noted. "I need both my hands for this, alright?"

The hero nodded, ignoring the inevitable panic that shot through them at the sudden absence of the villain's touch, which returned almost immediately on the deep laceration on their lower torso.

The hero cringed, bracing for some kind of torturous, painful mending, but the villain's powers were warm, soft, like honey in a cup of hot tea or a crackling fireplace during a winter storm. God, how many years had it been since they'd felt so comforted?

A whimper escaped the hero once more. They tensed. Jesus fucking christ.

The villain cracked a smile as they worked. "Don't worry, love. You're not the first person I've healed that enjoys the feeling." They brushed a palm over the wound, weaving the hero's flesh and skin back together. "This is gonna scar, but at least you'll live to see another day, hm?"

The hero scoffed weakly, still drunk on the villain's magic.

The villain swept their hands over the hero's body, feeling for more damage. "Gosh, Hero," they hummed, "you get yourself into so much trouble, do so much for this pitiful city, and for what?" They placed their hands on the hero's battered neck, soothing the inflammation. "When's the last time someone took care of you?" they asked quietly, but the question seemed more for themselves than for the hero.

Several heartbeats passed before the villain pulled away, finished with their work. The hero couldn't stop themselves from chasing their touch, nearly toppling over.

The villain caught them before they hit the ground, chuckling. "Oh, what am I gonna do with you?"

The hero felt a lump form in their throat at the thought of the villain leaving. I'm not gonna make it home. Not without Villain. They squeezed their eyes shut, swallowing their pride. "Please," they whispered. "Take me home. All I ask."

"Don't need to ask me twice." The villain swept the hero up into their arms, smirking at their indignant (and exhausted) glare. "You're not walking, sorry. You're getting all my love and special treatment today." They winked, as if they were joking.

But as the villain paced their way to the hero's apartment, and as the hero began to fall asleep in their arms, they both knew it wasn't a joke.

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 day ago

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#Holiday requests If you're not too busy I would love another part to cinnamon rolls son. Love your writing, it really is a great inspiration, you got me out of my own writing slump.

The Justice League was at their wits ends with Dan. Disaster struck no matter what they attempted to ensure he developed some softer traits.

First, Barry had the bright idea to show him the wonders of volunteer work to help the community. If he could value the life of humans, surely he wouldn't destroy it in the far future. As a teenager, Barry had punched hours of volunteering in the local hospital to play and read to the sick children in bed.

He had done it because he enjoyed making children smile and built up his resume for college. Barry was many things, but being wealthy enough to afford college wasn't one of them. He wanted to apply for as many scholarships as possible, so he started his community service campaign from an early age.

On the first day of their community service, Barry had taken him to clean up the local beach. An hour into the work, a shark had been spotted near the swimmers, and Dan had dived in to rescue a little girl from its jaws.

Dan had been hailed a hero until he picked up the girl's father and threw him into the water towards said shark. The father had ignored his seven-year-old daughter for his mistress. Apparently, once Dan overheard the man panicking more about his wife finding out the beach father-daughter beach day was just an excuse to cheat on her than his crying daughter in the ambulance, Dan had figured he needed to be taught a lesson.

Dan stood over him while the man screamed and splashed, pointing and laughing. Were it not for the Flash's sudden appearance, well....Dan may have actually fed that cheating cum bag to the sharks.

Bruce added it to the shared drive, asking Barry to include a complete detailed report, by the hour, of what happened. They figured they could analyze Dan and find what could make him snap.

Next, Clark took Dan to his family farm. He claimed nothing brought up good children like his mother and father's gentle but firm parenting,g plus the wonders of the hard farmer life. Clark was sure Dan would enjoy all the open space, the animals, and working in the fields.

Within the hour of the pair arriving at the farm, Dan happily weeded around the field. Clark was somewhat surprised by how quick he took to the job. He went inside to help Ma ready some pie and Clark's legendary lemonade as a reward.

It only took a few minutes since Ma had already put the pie to cook before they arrived. The two were gone long enough that Clark could make a nice pitcher and take a few seconds to smell the mouthwatering pie.

He went back into the field carrying a tray of a plated two-slice pie and a cold glass cup, only to stop dead in his tracks. Dan was kneeling, laughing manically towards the sky, within the circle of burning weeds.

The flames were a green and black color. Its dark smoke shifted into what appeared to be screaming humans. The worst part, however, was the lines of what appeared to be renamed scarecrows wearing shackles as they harvest Pa's cornfield.

Clark was horrified.

Batman had added to the drive, "Gave life to inanimate things just to enslave them."

Hal was the next one to try, but no one knew what happened on their Become A Better Person trip. Hal refused to place a report, only stating that he could never look at Hawaiian pizza again. He threw up when Barry brought one in for a long meeting.

At least Phantom seemed happy they were still attempting to save his son. His daughter was also more well-behaved, spending most of her days traveling. It was strange to associate her with Phantom because if there was one thing Dani liked to do, it was pick fights.

She had fought through Darkside's defenses to challenge him to a pie-eating contest. She freed half of his planet on her way out, but not before beating them up to get them to listen.

Her father would have spent time trying to do things peacefully. Not Dani. She did stuff through her fists.

Batman had added classifications to the three ghosts in the file. Phantom was Lawfully good, Dani Chaotic good, and Dan was marked as Chaotic neutral. The rest of the league suspects that his children added those, but no one was brave enough to point it out.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #holiday requests #The cinnamon roll's son #Part 3 #Dan is a danger manget #He also looks evil #The JL contuine to try and make Dan a good person #They misunderstood Phantom moreality aligmnent

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dollyichi · 10 hours ago

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ILY = ? ᯓ★ bakugou katsuki x f ! reader. fluff / established relationship

katsuki never explicitly says “i love you” the first few months. he always has his own way to vocalize his affection—and i stress, in his own way.

where he gets annoyed and says “i want your heart to beat only because of me until you can’t feel it when i’m not there.” or when you guys make love and he says “every time you lay on our bed,” (your house, he came over) “you’d have no choice but to get reminded of me.” something like that. (it’s more extreme than those two examples) and you’d tease him because he says a lot of shit even though the meaning is very simple (though deeply felt).

sometimes those three words are manifested into simple actions. tucking your hair behind your ear while he looks at you calmly. helping you with your necklaces and leaving a kiss at the back of your neck after he connects the hooks. driving you to work even when it’s out of the way.

when he notices you’re feeling anxious and your hands start to twitch, immediately taking them in his own and peppering kisses until you calm down.

even remembering the tiniest details about yourself that you almost forgot until he reminds you himself.

then one day it just falls out of his lips so smoothly. in the middle of a tickle fight and when you both catch your breath you stop to look at one another for a brief moment.

“i love you.” he says with a smile while his chests continued to rise and fall.

that you kept asking him to repeat it over and over while the tips of his ears get redder by the second. (you trapped him against the headboard too)

still, his actions always proved more than those three words. you never thought you could feel something that’s even beyond love, beyond devotion.

it was entirely all possible because of your katsuki.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : not proofread obviously sorry for the mistakes i wrote this bc idk it just fell out of me ><

#bnha fluff #mha fluff #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki fluff #bakugo fluff #my hero academia fluff #ᦾִ⁠❤︎ by cola

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elryuse · 17 hours ago

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LOVE TO HATE ME pt.1

WINTER X MALE READER X GISELLE

Tags : Break Up, Seduction, Love Triangle, Deep Romance, SMUT, Kissing, Cheating?

Words : 3,999 Words

This Is A Commision Work For My Friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. This will be a 5 Part Series. So yeah, Hope you liked it buddy.

The whiskey burned, a welcome fire against the icy ache in your chest. You needed to numb the pain, to drown out the echoes of her voice, the ghost of her smile. You needed to forget.

Winter. The name itself tasted like ashes in your mouth. A love story that had once painted your world in shades of rose, now reduced to a smudged watercolor, bleeding into a melancholic gray.

"My studies are my priority right now," she'd said, her voice a fragile whisper, "I can't afford distractions." Distractions. You, with your messy hair, your impulsive laughter, your tendency to get lost in daydreams instead of focusing on your future. You were a distraction, a delightful, messy, all-consuming distraction.

Now, the silence in your apartment screamed with her absence. Every corner whispered her name, every shadow cast her ghost. The worn-out movie tickets, the half-finished painting of her eyes, the scent of her favorite perfume still lingering in the air – all mocking reminders of a love that had slipped through your numb fingers.

You poured another generous measure of whiskey, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. The amber liquid swirled, mirroring the turmoil within you. You were drowning, gasping for air in a sea of grief, the waves crashing over you relentlessly.

Then, there was Giselle.

Giselle, with eyes the color of a stormy sea, her laughter like the chime of wind chimes, and a kindness that always made you feel seen, even when you were lost in your own despair. Giselle, Winter's best friend, who had always been there, a comforting presence in the periphery of your relationship.

Giselle, who had been your confidante, your shoulder to cry on during countless teenage dramas, your partner in crime in countless midnight adventures. Giselle, who had always held a special place in your heart, a place you never quite acknowledged until now.

You remembered the day you first met Winter. It was at a college party, a cacophony of noise and laughter. Winter, radiant in a burst of color, had been surrounded by a group of friends, her laughter infectious. You, captivated by her vibrant energy, had been drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Giselle, ever the observant one, had introduced you, her smile a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Winter," she'd said, "This is Y/n. He's been eyeing you all night."

Winter, blushing, had extended a hand, her touch surprisingly warm. "Hi, Y/n," she'd said, her voice a melodic chime. "It's nice to meet you."

And that was it. The beginning of a whirlwind romance, a love story that had consumed your every waking moment. But now, the whirlwind had subsided, leaving behind a trail of wreckage and a heart aching with a profound sense of loss.

Giselle had been there through it all. She'd listened patiently as you recounted every detail of your blossoming relationship, her eyes sparkling with genuine happiness for you. She'd offered advice, both solicited and unsolicited, always with a gentle hand and a reassuring smile.

She'd been your refuge during the inevitable arguments, the silent listener as you vented your frustrations, the one who always knew how to coax a smile back onto your face.

And now, she was your anchor, a lifeline in the stormy seas of your grief.

"Come on," she'd said, her voice soft, "Let's get some air. This place is suffocating you."

And so, you'd stumbled out into the night, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors through your alcohol-glazed vision. Giselle had listened patiently as you poured out your grief, her silence a comforting blanket against the storm raging inside you. She had offered you her shoulder to cry on, her apartment a refuge from the loneliness that was threatening to consume you whole.

You, drowning in your misery, had clung to her like a lifeline.

The days that followed were a haze of blurry memories. Days spent in a melancholic stupor, punctuated by stolen moments of solace in Giselle's company. You'd spend hours talking, dissecting your relationship with Winter, analyzing every nuance, every missed opportunity, every "what if."

Giselle, ever insightful, would offer her perspective, her words a balm to your wounded soul. "You loved her deeply, Y/n," she'd said, her voice laced with a sadness that mirrored your own, "But sometimes, love isn't enough."

Her words, though laced with a poignant truth, only served to deepen the ache in your chest.

One evening, while curled up on her couch, a worn-out movie playing silently in the background, you felt a shift in the dynamic between you. A subtle change in the air, a unspoken current running beneath the surface of your friendship.

Giselle, sitting beside you, her gaze fixed on the flickering screen, reached out and gently placed her hand over yours. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, a shiver down your spine. You turned to look at her, your breath catching in your throat.

Her eyes, usually bright and mischievous, were now pools of darkness, mirroring the storm brewing within you. A storm that had been brewing for a long time, you realized with a sudden jolt of awareness.

You'd always been drawn to Giselle, her vibrant personality a stark contrast to your own introspective nature. You'd admired her strength, her independence, her unwavering loyalty. You'd been captivated by her wit, her infectious laughter, her ability to find beauty in the most unexpected places.

But you'd always kept your feelings at bay, afraid to jeopardize their precious friendship. Afraid of the potential for heartbreak, afraid of losing her altogether.

Now, those carefully constructed walls were crumbling, crumbling under the weight of your shared grief, under the weight of unspoken desires.

"I've wanted this for so long," she whispered, her voice husky, her gaze finally meeting yours. "Ever since…"

You didn't need her to finish the sentence. You knew. You'd always known, on some subconscious level, that there was a simmering intensity beneath her gentle facade, a fire that had been waiting to ignite.

The words hung heavy in the air, unspoken yet deeply understood. The unspoken confession, the years of unspoken longing, finally finding voice.

And then, all pretense was gone.

The movie faded into the background, the flickering images replaced by a dizzying kaleidoscope of emotions.

Their lips met, a tentative brush at first, then a desperate hunger taking over. Giselle tasted of wine and regret, of unspoken desires and a shared grief.

The kiss was a whirlwind, a collision of broken hearts, a desperate search for solace in the arms of another. It was a whirlwind of passion and desperation, a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Winter's absence.

They explored each other with a fierce intensity, their bodies moving in a desperate dance of need and longing. Giselle's hands traced the contours of your face, her fingers tangling in your hair, her moans a low, primal sound.

You lost yourself in the moment, the world fading away, leaving only the raw, primal sensation of her body beneath yours.

But as you lay beside her afterwards, the silence that followed was deafening. The weight of your actions, the betrayal that gnawed at you, the lingering ghost of Winter, all threatened to suffocate you.

You had found comfort in Giselle's arms, but at what cost?

The answer, you realized with a chilling clarity, was a price you might never be able to pay.

The guilt weighed heavily on you, a constant, suffocating presence. You were consumed by a sense of betrayal, not only to Winter, but to Giselle as well. You had used her, exploited her vulnerability, sought solace in her arms while still carrying the weight of your lost love.

You tried to push the guilt aside, to focus on the fleeting moments of pleasure, the comfort of her presence, the warmth of her skin against yours. But the guilt remained, a persistent shadow that followed you everywhere.

The days that followed were a tortured existence. You avoided Giselle, your guilt making it impossible to look her in the eye. You were haunted by the memory of her touch, the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes had lit up when she looked at you.

You were trapped in a cycle of self-recrimination, unable to escape the weight of your own guilt. You had hurt Winter, you had betrayed Giselle, and you had betrayed yourself.

One evening, weeks after that fateful night, you found yourself standing outside Giselle's apartment, your hand hovering over the doorbell.

You had spent the entire day battling with yourself, wrestling with your demons. You needed to talk to her, to apologize, to explain.

But as you stood there, the weight of your guilt pressing down on you, you were unsure of what to say, unsure of how she would react.

You had hurt her, deeply, irrevocably. And you were terrified of losing her altogether.

You took a deep breath, the cold night air filling your lungs. What were you doing?

This was a disaster waiting to happen.

But the need to see her, to hear her voice, to apologize, was overwhelming.

Taking a shaky breath, you reached for the doorbell.

The doorbell echoed through the quiet apartment, its chime cutting through the thick silence that had settled over you like a heavy blanket. Your heart was pounding in your chest, each beat a deafening reminder of the storm raging inside you. The seconds stretched into eternity as you waited, your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing with a thousand unanswered questions.

And then, the door swung open.

Giselle stood there, her figure silhouetted against the soft glow of the apartment lights. She was wearing something you hadn’t expected—sexy black lacy lingerie that hugged her curves in all the right places. The sight of her hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed, and her lips curved into a knowing smile that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice low and sultry, like the purr of a cat. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

You froze, your mind scrambling to process the scene before you. What was happening? This wasn’t the Giselle you knew—or maybe it was, but a version of her you’d never allowed yourself to imagine. Her eyes, dark and full of mischief, locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

She giggled, a soft, melodic sound that danced in the air between you. Then, without a word, she reached out, her fingers curling around the front of your shirt, and pulled you inside. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing you in the warm, dimly lit space that smelled faintly of her perfume.

“Giselle,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I didn’t—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, placing a finger over your lips. Her touch was electric, sending a jolt of heat through your body. “No more talking. Not tonight.”

You could feel the tension between you, a palpable force that seemed to crackle in the air. Her hand moved from your lips to your chest, her fingers trailing down the front of your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel your heartbeat quickening, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” she whispered, her voice dripping with desire. “Waiting for you.”

Her words sent a surge of heat through you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering just beneath the surface. You reached for her, your hands trembling as they found her waist, pulling her closer until her body was pressed against yours. She let out a soft moan, her hands tangling in your hair as she kissed you with a hunger that matched your own.

The kiss was intoxicating, a whirlwind of passion and need that left you dizzy and craving more. Her lips were soft and insistent, her tongue teasing yours in a way that made your head spin. You could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her lingerie, the way her curves molded against you, driving you wild.

She pulled back slightly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire. “Do you want this, Y/n?” she asked, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Do you want me?”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the storm of emotions raging inside you. Yes, you wanted her. You wanted her more than you’d ever wanted anyone. The guilt, the pain, the grief—it all faded into the background, replaced by the overwhelming need to be close to her, to lose yourself in her.

She smiled, a slow, seductive smile that made your heart race. “Then take me,” she whispered, her voice a sultry promise.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hands moved of their own accord, trailing down her body, exploring every inch of her. She gasped as your fingers found the hem of her lingerie, her breath hitching as you slowly slid it down her legs, leaving her bare before you.

She was breathtaking, her body a perfect blend of soft curves and delicate lines. You could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her skin trembled under your touch. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat, then lower, tracing a path down her chest, her stomach, until you reached the apex of her thighs.

She moaned, her hands clenching in your hair as you teased her, your tongue flicking over her sensitive flesh. She was slick with desire, her body trembling with need as you worked her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

“Y/n,” she gasped, her voice a desperate plea. “Please…”

You didn’t need to hear the rest. You knew what she wanted, and you were more than willing to give it to her. You straightened, your hands gripping her hips as you positioned yourself at her entrance. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breath coming in shallow gasps as you pushed into her, slowly, inch by inch, until you were completely sheathed inside her.

She moaned, a low, primal sound that sent a shiver down your spine as she wrapped her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. You began to move, your thrusts slow and deliberate, each one drawing a gasp or a moan from her lips. Her hands clung to you, her nails digging into your back as she urged you on, her hips meeting yours with each thrust.

The room was filled with the sounds of your passion, the soft slap of skin against skin, the ragged gasps and moans that spilled from both of your lips. You could feel the heat building between you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.

And then, just as you felt yourself on the brink of release, the doorbell rang.

You froze, your body stiffening as the sound echoed through the apartment. Giselle’s eyes flew open, her breath catching in her throat as she looked up at you, a mixture of surprise and anticipation in her gaze.

“Who—” she started, but before she could finish, the door swung open.

Winter stood in the doorway, her hair slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed. She looked… different. The usual prim and proper Winter was gone, replaced by a version of her you’d never seen before. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips curved into a seductive smile as she stepped inside, her gaze locking onto yours.

“Looks like I’m just in time,” she purred, her voice low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine.

The door clicked shut, cutting off the sight of Winter's retreating figure. Giselle leaned against it for a moment, her chest rising and falling as though she’d just run a marathon. She glanced back at you, her stormy eyes wide with a mix of panic and something else—something darker, more primal.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, running a hand through her tousled hair. “That was… close.”

You were still frozen in place, your heart hammering so loudly you were sure Giselle could hear it. The air in the room felt electric, charged with the near-miss and the lingering heat of what had almost happened between the two of you. Your mind raced, flashes of Winter’s flushed face and sultry smile mingling with the memory of Giselle’s lips on yours, her hands gripping your shoulders like she never wanted to let go.

Giselle pushed herself off the door and crossed the room toward you, her movements slow but deliberate. The black lace of her lingerie clung to her curves, the delicate fabric doing little to hide the way her body trembled slightly. She stopped just inches away, her gaze locked on yours.

“Y/n,” she said softly, her voice trembling despite her attempt to steady it. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t speak. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing. All you could think about was how close you’d been to crossing a line you hadn’t even realized was there until tonight. And now, standing here with Giselle, her scent filling your lungs, her presence overwhelming every rational thought, you wondered if you’d already crossed it.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you reached out, your fingers brushing against her arm. Her skin was warm, alive, and the contact sent a jolt through you that made your knees weak.

Giselle inhaled sharply, her eyes darting down to where your hand rested on her. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, with a soft exhale, she stepped closer, closing the distance between you until her body was pressed against yours.

“We shouldn’t…” she murmured, but the way her hands slid up your chest contradicted her words. Her touch was hesitant at first, but then she gripped the front of your shirt, pulling you closer still. “But I… I don’t care right now.”

Her lips found yours again, hungry and desperate, and whatever restraint you’d been clinging to shattered. You kissed her back with equal fervor, your hands sliding down her back to grip her hips, pulling her flush against you. The taste of her was intoxicating, a heady mix of wine and something uniquely her, and you couldn’t get enough.

Giselle moaned softly against your mouth, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss. Her body arched into yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart through the thin fabric of her lingerie. Every nerve in your body was on fire, every thought consumed by her—the feel of her, the sound of her, the way she moved with you like this was where she’d always belonged.

But then, reality came crashing back in.

The image of Winter standing in the doorway flashed in your mind, her dark eyes filled with a heat that mirrored the one burning inside you now. Guilt twisted in your gut, sharp and unrelenting, and you pulled away from Giselle with a ragged breath.

“Wait,” you said, your voice hoarse. “We can’t… Winter…”

Giselle froze, her expression flickering with something you couldn’t quite place—hurt? Regret? Anger? Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a mask of calm that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Winter doesn’t have to know,” she said quietly, her hands still resting on your chest. “This… this is just us. Just you and me. We don’t owe her anything.”

You stared at her, trying to reconcile her words with the storm raging inside you. Did you owe Winter anything? She’d ended things with you, walked away without a second glance. But Giselle… Giselle had always been there, a constant presence in your life, a source of comfort and strength when everything else fell apart.

And yet…

“Giselle,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can do this. Not like this.”

She studied you for a long moment, her eyes searching yours as though looking for something—truth, maybe, or clarity. Finally, she sighed and took a step back, her arms wrapping around herself as if to shield her body from the cold air that suddenly seemed to fill the room.

“Okay,” she said softly. “If that’s what you want.”

But the way she looked at you, the way her voice trembled ever so slightly, told you it wasn’t what she wanted. And deep down, you weren’t sure it was what you wanted either.

Before either of you could say another word, there was a soft knock at the door. Both of you froze, your eyes darting to the entrance as though expecting Winter to burst in again. But when no one entered, Giselle exhaled shakily and turned toward the door.

“Who is it?” she called, her voice steadier than you expected.

There was a pause, and then a familiar voice replied, “It’s me. Can we talk?”

Your stomach dropped. It was Winter.

Giselle shot you a panicked look, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What the hell…?” she muttered under her breath. She hesitated for a moment, then squared her shoulders and opened the door just enough to peek out.

Winter stood on the other side, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable. She glanced past Giselle, her gaze landing on you for a brief moment before returning to her friend.

“What’s wrong?” Giselle asked, her tone carefully neutral.

Winter hesitated, her lips pressing together in a thin line. “I…I need to talk to someone. Can I come in?”

Giselle shook her head almost imperceptibly, her hand tightening on the edge of the door. “Now’s not a good time,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “I’m… busy.”

Winter’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned forward, trying to peer past Giselle. “Busy with what?” she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

Giselle shifted to block her view, her jaw tightening. “Just… something personal,” she said vaguely. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

For a moment, Winter just stared at her, her expression torn between frustration and hurt. Then, she sighed and nodded, stepping back from the door. “Fine,” she said, her voice tinged with resignation. “But we need to talk, Giselle. Soon.”

Giselle nodded, her fingers tightening on the doorknob. “I know,” she said softly. “I promise.”

Winter lingered for a moment longer, her gaze flickering to you again before she finally turned and walked away. Giselle closed the door slowly, leaning against it with a shaky breath. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, until Giselle finally broke it.

“Well,” she said, her voice trembling with nervous laughter, “that was… unexpected.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed too, the sound strained but genuine. “Understatement of the year,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

But as the laughter faded, the weight of what had just happened settled over you once more. Winter knew. Or at least, she suspected something. And now, you were left wondering what would happen next.

Giselle watched you carefully, her stormy eyes full of questions you weren’t sure how to answer. “Y/n,” she began hesitantly, “what do you want to do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. What did you want to do? Part of you wanted to run, to leave this tangled mess behind and pretend none of it had ever happened. But another part—a deeper, hungrier part—wanted to pull Giselle back into your arms and lose yourself in her again, consequences be damned.

Before you could decide, Giselle took a step closer, her fingers brushing against your hand. “Whatever happens,” she said softly, “I’m here. Okay?”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. But the question remained: what were you going to do?

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ziminy · 3 days ago

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I'll follow you until you love me

Having actor Gojo as your fan isn't for the weak

Tags: smut, mdni, f!actress reader, actor!Gojo, dark themed, stalking, obsession, jealousy, fan boy Gojo, mind games, lots of lies, manipulation, panties stealing, making out, fingering, oral (f receiving), drunk s(e)x, dubious content, people are shipping you and Gojo, fear play, just me going over the top again,

Author's note: thank you for 100 flowers 🤗 I been working on this fic for a while and was waiting for a specific occasion to post it.

Masterlist

The first time Gojo Satoru heard about you was a long time ago. He doesn't really remembers the details but he knows he was so done with hearing about you left and right.

Everybody was praising this new actor who appeared out of a blue, and it was getting on his nerves.

Nothing was known about you, you had no connections to the inside world, your name wasn't affiliated with any big names. It was like you were put on the big screen out of nowhere and lend a big role like the director was forced to.

And his feelings only got bitter the moment he met you in person. Walking into his set one day and greeting everyone left and right, remembering names of some crew members he didn't knew they even existed to begin with.

But the cherry on top was when the director, that was known for being a bit too eccentric, presented you with the biggest smile on. Praising you and talking about how the day is so much better with you there. And you, instead of trying to show off, being humble.

He didn't like it. The way you looked so sweet, how you would laugh at the poorly made jokes and how you left just as soon as you appeared, giving him no chance to actually learn something about you. But he does remember how you promised to buy everybody a drink next time you pass by and how you look forward to his movie.

Another one of his fans? Huh? He thought, being disappointed that you'd be much more easier than he hoped.

But he only ended up being disappointed once again, because a week later you appeared on his set one more time. This time with drinks just as you promised, and the biggest smile on your face talking about the role you're auditioning for and how the set is closer to his. Well, you weren't talking to him directly, but the director. But since you were on his movie set you were practically sets neighbors.

Full of himself, he went to you, expecting you to be excited and faint just from seeing him, since you said you were a fan. But instead you looked at him the way you looked at everybody else, the same business smile on that was basically your free pass card in life. Refusing his invitation to drink with him tonight, talking about keeping it professional and how you don't dare to accept since you respect him too much. Fearing that you might do something that would embarrass yourself in front of him.

It was a lie, he quickly noticed the way your face change as you left with your assistant. A blank expression on your face, that smile disappearing, not having to put an act on as you thought no one saw you. But he did, and it got him thinking, spending the next few days searching and looking at any media form that haves your name on it.

Were you actually pretending? Was everybody's sweetheart actually a liar? Did he actually found dirt on you? What is he going to do with this information? Surely you don't want everybody to know about about it, right?

But when he thought he had you, a scandal with your name all over it was the only thing everybody was talking about. How your company was mistreating you and how you finally managed to break ties with them. And it didn't helped that everybody on his set was whining about you not asking for help, and how they noticed your sudden demeanor but didn't said a thing.

Now you had people fighting over you to join entertainment companies. Biggest names arguing about which one was better for you, you even had his company begging you to join them. And now he was stuck with hearing your name once again.

It didn't stopped any time soon, because somehow, miraculously, you decided to sign a contract with his company.

It was like you decided to torture him, play with his mind and lead him on even if you clearly set some boundaries between the two of you. Were you playing hard to get? Because after all those nights awake he learned that you didn't get involved with anyone in the industry. You refused executives after executives, big actors and renowned directors. You would rather get banned from the industry than being known for giving any kind of services or being known as someone's partner.

He didn't knew if he was supposed to be proud or get mad at how stupid you were acting.

But it got him even more invested. And now you had him watching every single thing you appeared in. It could be a small role, you could just appear in the background for a second and he'll memorize the entire movie.

Soon he got bored of that, and he moved into interviews, appearances or just people speculations, the nda you sign or make people sign. He still remembers about that time you got a nobody as your partner and kept him around for a few months. Even so, it didn't changed a thing about his interest in you.

His room was filled with you, pictures, posters, stuff from movies you acted in. His whole house was like this in fact. His closet filled with stuff you wore, you could even find the same products you use in his bathroom.

And the less attention you pay him, the more obsessed he became. Spraying his bed with your perfume every time you went on a date with your little nobodies, sometimes even asking people from your sets about you, not daring to get to close to you so you won't acknowledge him, even if he's dying to get your attention.

Imagine his surprise when you first acted in the same thing. Well, not really because he auditioned for the same movie as you, trying for a role that had it's screentime at the same time as yours. But he didn't really expect to get it. Oh who is he lying to? He called the director and demanded to play by your side, talking about how he wants to try new things and putting a act on so nobody would rat him out.

Just as soon as the roles were revealed to the public, he even hired a few people to post about the two of you online. But he did got hit by surprise from the amount of people that actually shipped you two. It got him giggling and kicking his feet, staying up and reading comments about how you looked together.

And you seemed to feed into fans delusions, interacting with him more and putting on a more friendly facade, like you were actually friends behind close doors.

Even if it was fake, he liked it. The attention you gave him, the way you finally look at him right in the eyes with more than just your business smile. How you sit close to him at interviews, your legs almost touching. And how you would joke with him when people were looking, actually trying to get to know him.

The promotions ended sooner than he'd like, and now he was alone once again.

He should have let go of you, it been already two years since you two acted together, and he did in fact almost forgot about you. His house was finally you free, not a single thing that represented you in any way in sight. And he been clean for the past few months, finally going in public and acting like old him.

That was until a movie director contacted him, wanting him to be one of the main characters in this action movie he's making. And his costar? You. You would play his love interest. He can't really remember what he said after that, but he did ended up with the role, now reading the script with great attention, trying to picture how your scenes would be.

The romance scenes weren't enough, the fans would want to see more, he said while talking to the director, convincing him to add more. And that's how you ended up with some really unnecessary spicy scenes. Making out in the bathroom, somehow fucking each other on his bed, lots of kisses and the sexual tension should be felt the entire movie.

"Director, can I talk to you?" you said when you visit the set for the first time.

"Did something happen?" the older man looked at your concerned face.

"I received the new script." you said, holding the papers in your hands. "Are all the new scenes really necessary? It's supposed to be about fighting for justice, not a romance movie." well, you were right. But the white haired man happened to pay for the movie's budget out his own pocket.

"It would reach to a larger audience." but were the sex scenes really necessary? You looked at Gojo, trying to communicate telepathically with him. "Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be fine." the director said, ending the discussion there.

This wasn't just about you, it was also about your coworker and about how he feels. You had to pull him to the side and talk to him, you didn't want any hard feelings or to end up with a twisted relationship because of a stupid movie. "You sure you're alright with the new scenes?" you asked, looking at the tall man as he seemed to hold back something.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?" he tried not to smile, happy at the way you seemed concerned about him and his well being.

"The change was out of nowhere and too drastic. I could talk to the director if you feel uncomfortable." you're so cute, he wanted to eat you whole.

"What about you. How do you feel about it?" he knew he went overboard, he blacked out when he made those changes after all. But he personally can't say that he regrets anything.

"It's just acting. Sure, I'm a little unhappy at the changes, but I'm alright with it if you are." god, he was dying to kiss you. He wanted to get to the parts where he could be closer to you, feel your skin against his and have a taste of your lips.

There were a few more weeks of filming until he got to the parts he wanted, and he was waiting patiently. Because he knew that once it started he'll get more than enough of you.

"That's all for today." the director said, finally announcing that it was the end of today's work.

"How about some drinks?" Gojo looked at you talking to your assistant before he looked at the director. "My treat." how could anybody refuse free drinks, especially ones that were payed by the white haired man.

You initially tried to refuse, looking at your assistant for a confirmation before you accepted. And that's how you ended in a bar with almost everybody on the set.

You let yourself to get losen for once, forgetting about the image you carefully builded and drank. You had your assistant there in case of anything, which you trusted a bit too much. But even so, you're just happy that you could drink, enjoy the company of others and feeling like you're just another person in there not just a big name actress.

And perhaps you enjoyed yourself a bit too much. Because people started leaving and you didn't felt like doing the same just yet.

It was just you, your costar, the director and your assistants in there in the end, it wasn't that bad.

"I'll call the car for us." your assistant let you know as they stepped outside for a moment.

"Our car is here." the director's assistant said, making the old man get up and leave. Now it was just you, your costar and his assistant that was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm kinda glad I'm doing this with you." you said, barely able to keep your eyes open. "I hear people talking about you all the time, and they all say how good you are." he stared at you with an expressionless face, still trying to think of what he should do next.

"Why don't we go outside for a moment? Take some fresh air." he wasn't prepared for a love confession just yet.

"Alright." you grabbed his arm, letting your body lean into his. He was sweating, his heart was beating so fast that he doesn't know what to do.

"T-then." he gulped, walking with you towards the back door of the bar. Good thing he reserved the whole place, because he doesn't know what he would have done if anyone saw you in that situation.

He placed you against the wall, sitting back next to you and letting you rest your head against his shoulder.

"Your hands are so big." you said, taking his hand in yours and comparing sizes. He was quiet, he just stared at you, his mind in a million places as he tried to figure out if this was some kind of hint or it was all in his head. "You're big in general." you looked up at him, blinking a few times and making him look away, a hand over his face as he tried to control his facial expression.

"It's nothing." he almost bite his tongue.

"I was a bit scared at first, but I'm glad we're in this together." seriously, are you trying to provoke him? "Let's work together in the future as well." if you weren't leading him on then he doesn't know what this is.

The way you look at him, and how you smile. It wasn't your work smile, you were genuinely smiling at him, heck, even your eyes were smiling. If this wasn't you telling him how much you want him then he really went crazy.

He lowered his head, taking another look at your face before he kissed you. At first it was something simple, just his lips touching yours for a second before he backed away. But the way you looked at him made him get closer. Those eyes of yours, having something that looked like sparkles in them. A fire that never seems to calm down, the heat that made him fall for you in the first place. Who can blame him that he kissed you again? Trapping your body against the wall, making you to wrap your hands around him, welcoming him in your warmth even more.

He let out a moan, looking at you with something lustful in his eyes and a smirk on his face. He looked dangerous, like he finally let go of that prince charming facade, showing you what he actually is.

You looked surprised, like you actually never expected him to act like that. Did you really thought that he's usually that sweet? How cute. He could play with you for a little longer, show you what he's actually capable of.

He bite your lip, looking straight into your soul as his kisses traveled to your neck. He sucked on your skin, placing a soft kiss on it before he sinked his teeth into it, making you to let out a gasp. He needed to leave his mark on you, because who knows when else he could.

He couldn't stay away from your lips for long, and now he's back on devouring you, filling the back alley with the sounds you make. "Come home with me." he tried to say, not wanting to get away from you.

You didn't respond, not because you didn't heard him, because trust me when I say you heard him loud and clear. It was more about what will happen after that, and your moral code. You'd rather die than get involved with anyone in the industry, and yet look at you still refusing to let go of him.

"Y/N, you're here?" you could hear somebody on the other side of the door. It was your assistant, probably looking for you to go home.

"Let go." you quietly moaned into his mouth. The door open, making you to push him away, looking at your assistant who had no clue of what's going on. "Is the car ready?" you felt like you sobber up, it's like you didn't touched a single drop of alcohol.

"It just arrived." your assistant looked at the actor next to you and then at you, not knowing if they should walk away or take you to your car.

"Alright." you left him in that alley, not even looking back at him for a single moment.

He had that look again, he's about to do something you'd both regret, or more like you won't like it. Because if he's shameless enough to do it, do you think he'd actually feel a little bit of remorse?

The next day you woke up with hundreds of text and missed calls, and your head killing you. And when you looked at your phone all you could see is people sending you the same article.

Two big stars making out in the back of a bar. Is this the start of a romance story?

Huh? What are these people talking about? Curious, and having no idea why people were sending it to you, you clicked on it. And you were welcomed with your name all over it, alongside Gojo's.

All you can do is cry. How drunk were you last night? You have to apologize to your costar. How could you have been so stupid? You can't believe yourself for doing such a mistake.

"Do not believe everything you see" you posted something on your social media. Trying to calm down the crowd somehow. You have to talk to your team about this since you have absolutely no idea how to handle it. For the moment it it was better to deny it then resolve this issues with Gojo's team.

Speaking of the wolf, you haven't checked on his social media yet.

You went on his profile, and instead of trying to take control over the situation he was putting more wood on the fire.

"Since everybody knows we don't have to hide anymore" you looked at his post in disbelief.

"???" you comment. Looking at your screen in disbelief at the way he was liking comments about how the two of you looked good together.

"Hi :)" he replied to your comment, making you even more confused. Was this a strategy for the movie? I mean, it wasn't a bad idea since you are his character's love interest.

Perhaps this was all an elaborate scheme that you weren't aware of just yet. That thought made you calm down. The internet was doing otherwise.

There were people who were genuinely happy about this, talking about how they knew it. Hell, you got other stars talking about how they always seen your interactions and they knew something more was going on. The fact that you didn't seen a single hate comment made you put questions, but who knows. You might see them sooner or later.

From that moment on, you didn't had a single peaceful time on set. Now you have people acting like your a married couple when nothing was going on between you and Satoru. But he seemed fine, in fact, he looked happy with the way people are treating you now.

He left his mark on you and you didn't even knew it. It was fine, even if you didn't looked at him as a potential partner, yet. It was alright. There was more than enough time. There's no rush, especially when he knows how to get rid of competition. Just like he got rid of your assistant for interrupting you at the bar, he can get rid of everybody that dares to get in his business.

"You're free later?" he came to you when you were on set, making people start whispering between themselves and giggle.

"Not really." you looked tired, if he knew you'd end up like this without an assistant he would have got you another one first.

"If you ever need my help let me know, I'll help you with anything." he means it, even if he looks like he doesn't. He will walk through fire if you tell him to.

"I'm just looking for a new assistant, don't worry." people were speculating that the assistant was the one who leaked about your so called relationship, but it was far from the truth. But the fact that they refuses to talk to you was confusing, even if it was your assistant who did that, why would they suddenly quit and go no contact? And what was more confusing was the fact that the only text from them was a screenshot of what you posted. Don't believe everything you see. What does that means? Was somebody bullying them? Then why wouldn't they tell you?

Now you couldn't help but be hesitant about chosing a new assistant. What if they end up having the same fate? Some people can be really mean and you don't want anyone to suffer because of you.

So, for the next few days you refused to even talk about your current situation. Only having your manager by your side and not trusting anyone that got too close near you.

He haves a limit, you should know that. How much longer he should wait for you to finally notice him?

This only made someone jealous, and a little angry. You don't want his help, even after what happened at the bar, you act like there was nothing you should talk about.

You should have went to him, jump in his arms and cry about how your assistant left you. But no, instead you chose to overwork yourself, still be the same kind actress that people loved and still giving him no attention.

So, he wrote you a letter. It was nothing more than his current thoughts and about his not so healthy love that was masked as 'admiration'. Shoving into your bag when no one was looking.

You were still on set when you were reading the letter, thinking it was made by one of the staff who happened to be your fan. You didn't really payed too much mind about it, finding it cute and putting it back where you find it after you were done with it.

Did you liked it? Should he write another one? Or did he went too overboard?

Do not believe everything you see, those were your own words and yet you were ignoring them. That letter did made your day, thinking that maybe you're just overthinking about your current situation. There were bad people out there, but there were also good guys. Why were you letting one bad incident ruin your mood?

A few days later you appeared at the studio with an unknown person next to you, you finally got a assistant. And this time you're planning on doing better than you did last time. Or so you thought.

You woke up with another letter, the same handwriting and the same sweet words written on it. This time was more about you than your so called fan, about how you should take more care of your health, how you got people worrying about you. But unlike last time, this letter had a signature on it, an S, nothing more, just a simple symbol.

How cute, S for secret, right? You giggled.

Do not believe everything you see. Really, do not. But for a moment you allowed yourself to be delusional, to think that the world wasn't that bad. I mean, even if there was someone who didn't appreciate you, you still had millions of fans and there are a lot of people who supports you.

And you decided to be more humanitarian, to step up your game and follow your costar's lead. One time after everyone was done with work you announced that you want to take everyone out for drinks, your treat. No one was crazy enough to refuse, especially you.

So, you called a friend of yours who owned a restaurant, the food is great, plus they also had a bar. And off you were.

Just like last time, you ended up all alone in that place with your coworker, laughing at his silly jokes before you finally got up to pay for tonight's feast.

"Your back?" you asked, feeling someone behind you and thinking it was your assistant. But to your surprise, it wasn't. It was the white haired man who seemed drunk, and maybe he was from the few drinks he had that night.

He leaned into you, trapping you between the empty receptionist desk and him. He kept looking at you, eyes half open as he seemed to want to say something.

Your mind was wandering for a moment, moving your eyes on his full lips before looking up at him. Every sane person would have done that, I mean, he was eye catching even in that state.

"You're alright?" you sounded concerned, and for a moment he actually thought you cared about him. You looked around the empty room for a moment, looking for any other people in there, but for his assistant more specifically.

"Don't leave me." he got his face closer to your ear, whispering in a low voice, and placing his hands on either sides of your body, trying to get his body more closer to yours.

"Come." you tried to get on of his hands away, so you could move.

"Where?" he only got clingier.

"Let's sit down. I'll get you some water." the last thing you want to see is headlines with your name all over them, talking about taking advantage of him when he's such a state.

"Noo." he whined, resting his head against your shoulder. "Don't want to." you sighed, looking around the room once again, trying to see if anyone from his team is still there.

"I got the bill ready." the cashier came back, only to freeze in place and look at you and your costar hugging, or what it seemed like a hug.

"I'll pay for it as soon as my assistant comes back." you said, trying to act like you're not being suffocated by this mountain of a man. The poor girl ran back from where she came from, leaving you alone with Satoru again. You sighed, you could only sigh as you put a hand on his back, making him break character for a moment as he jolted under your touch. "You can be such a big baby sometimes." good thing that you can't see him, because he was grinning from ear to ear.

"What happened to you?" your assistant finally appeared, looking at the scene you two were putting.

"He's drunk." you said as you rubbed his back with one hand, the other resting on his side, to keep him in place from falling. "Have you seen his assistant?"

"Not since the director left." your assistant got their phone out. "I'll give them a call." you're so thankful that you overcame your fears, because you don't know what you would have done alone in a moment like this. "They turned their phone off." you looked at the man in your arms and shook your head, disappointed at how this turned out.

"Call his manager, or anyone from his team." maybe he was the one who needed a new assistant, not you.

"No one is answering their phone." you understand that it's late at night, but who could just leave a big movie star like Gojo out here without a single thought about it. "What do we do? There's a hotel nearby, we could get a room for him there." that wasn't a bad idea. However, neither you or your assistant would look good if you leave him there. I mean, someone will have to get in the hotel with this world famous actor, who's face is known by everybody. He clearly drunk, and there would 100% be someone who will post something online about it and you'll get backlash for it.

"Let's take him to my place." that was the only option you had left. He started rubbing his face against you when you said that, letting out a groan and letting more of his weight into you.

"You're sure about that?" your assistant asked, not sure how to respond to what you just said.

"He'll sleep in a guest room. It's better than a hotel." your imagine had to come first after all.

So, without any more words said, you took him to your car. Even if he was heavy, he was surprisingly easy to move around. Well, he did followed every single of your move voluntarily, refusing to let go of you in any way possible.

That until you got to your house, dragging him inside when your assistant left, and leading him to a room relatively far from yours.

You pushed him in bed, taking off his shoes and trying to get him comfortable in bed. You didn't even dared to get close to his clothes, just putting the blanket over him and then leaving him in there.

You didn't even thought of taking advantage of him, you just wanted him sleep peacefully, to keep him away from anyone who might do something bad to him. After all, you knew damn well the industry you're working in, they'll eat him like wolves if they get their hands on him.

You're just helping out, you don't expect anything in return. But what a surprise to wake up with him in your bed in the middle of the night. He was on top of you, looking at the way the moonlight hit your face, and somehow wanting to bathe in your scent.

You could feel his hot breath on you, and it made you woke up. You didn't looked scared, even if he looked like he wanted to do things you'd rather not think about, you stayed calm. "Why did you leave me?" was he still drunk, or perhaps he was pretending to be? He was a good actor after all, you wouldn't be surprised if this was one of his acts.

He doesn't understands you. If you were the one who jumped in his arms like that he would have devoured you alive. But even after he made sure he could get some time alone with you, you still didn't payed him attention, at all.

"Go to sleep." you looked unfazed, not even taking him seriously.

"Touch me." he was really going to lose his mind. He was serving himself on a plate to you, and you didn't even dared to take a bite.

"You're drunk." you'd always try to do the opposite of what he's saying.

"I'm not." you knew he was pretending from the start too, didn't you?

"That's what a drunk person would say." you were getting on his nerves.

In a moment of panic, he took your hand in his, kissing your palm, closing his eyes and looking desperate as he tried to show you how he's feeling. You didn't even bat an eye, looking at him expressionless and like you didn't believed a word be was saying.

"Why don't you like me?" he had to confront you, or else this will take him nowhere.

"It's not that." he got the wrong idea, but it wasn't your job to explain yourself when he only understands what he wants to understand.

"Then? Why do you keep avoiding me?" you shook your head.

"I want us to keep it professional." you're making him laugh.

"We weren't professional when we kissed." that's another story. "So you just used me and now you'll let me hanging like this?" he really didn't wanted to listen to you unless you said something he wants to hear. "Make it up to me." what a fucker. "I want something in return for what you did." he's talking like he didn't started it last time.

"What do you want me to do?" you really can't believe him and his stupid demands. This should have been a payback for last time. Taking care of him even if he wasn't your problem to begin with.

"Kiss me." he was waiting for your response. "Like you mean it." you just said you want to keep it professional, but it's like he didn't even heard it.

"Can't I do something else?"

"Post a picture of us." that was even worse. Who knows what people would say if you do that. You'd really be branded as his, and it was a pain in the ass to deal with it.

You grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him closer to you, giving him a kiss that he'd remember. A wet kiss that it filled the room with sound, and your tongue in his mouth dancing with his. You even wrapped your hands around his neck, making sure he doesn't back down and take back his words.

He moaned, his hands trying to get under your shirt to feel more of your skin. But you didn't let him to do anything because you ended the kiss, breathing heavily and looking at him a bit angrily. "What now?"

"Bite me." kissing wasn't enough, he wanted you to eat him. Bite him, devour him in any way you could so that way you could have a piece of him with you.

"I'm not-" he kissed you, this time pinning your hands above your head so he could explore you more freely. Every time you tried to say something he'd bite your lip, making you groan and continued to kiss you.

"Touch me." he moaned, finally getting his mouth away from yours so you could breath. He took his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room and taking one of your hands in his, placing it on his crotch so you could feel how hard he was. He looked at you, at the face you made and how you didn't looked happy to be in that situation.

"It's too soon." you still refuse to get involved with your coworkers? What does he haves to do to prove to you that he means every single word he's saying?

"Do you really not like me?" he wanted you to be at least a little interested in him. It was no fun if he's the only one with big feelings in there.

"It's not that." it's your moral code.

"Do you ever think of me?" you didn't respond to that, only looking down at your hands amd trying to avoid eye contact.

"I'm not ready." you finally open your mouth to say something. "If we do this then nothing will be the same. We still have work to do, I can't simply just do it." so it was because of work? He already knew that, but at least you didn't dislike him.

"I get it." he said, getting off you and sitting down in bed. "Just go to sleep."

"You can sleep here if you want, I'll go somewhere else." you tried to get out of bed, but he dragged you back.

"Just because we're not fucking that doesn't mean we can't sleep." he will not let this night go without doing something. And just being able to feel your body against his as he sleeps is more than enough. Trust me when I say that this will drive him crazy for many days from now on.

The way you stay in his arms, and how he's able to shield over you. You really have no idea what power you hold onto him.

Do you regret bringing him in? A little. You hate giving people false hope, and he seems to ignore all your signs of displeasure. He did grew up in this environment after all. Being rich and famous from a young age, he haves no idea how to react when people tells him no, he can't handle rejection. And it seems that he always got what he wanted.

He didn't had to put on an act if he wanted to be around you. You could be friends, if he wanted. But nothing more, you wouldn't dare to be something more than acquaintances. You just work together, and are signed under the same entertainment company. You were nothing more than cash cows. You were the biggest stars of your agency, and you seemed to be pushed under the spot light as much as possible. He must understand how you feel, no?

He in fact didn't. And unlike you, he had more control over his actions. You could even say that the agency was afraid of him. He did come from a big family of stars, he had so many connections that even he can't say for sure how much power he was holding. But it was no joke when someone says he's the strongest.

So how can you reject him like that? Leaving him alone in that bed without blinking twice. But perhaps it was for the best, because he could finally rearrange his thoughts and think of what he should do. Retreat wasn't an option, I mean, how could he step back when he basically was in paradise?

This place smells exactly like you, leaving a sweet taste on his tongue and making him salivate while bathing in your scent. Should he steal something? You shouldn't tell him twice, because he got up the bed and starting looking around the room. He should pick something small, that you wouldn't notice. And even if you do notice, what will you do? He's shameless, you'll only give him a reason to get off to later when he's alone.

He should get something practical, that would help him during hard times.

And that's when he saw it, your closet. Something in his perverted mind suddenly lit on, and he went straight for your panties. There's so many to choose from, so many colors and models. He wants to take all of them home, put them on display right at the entrance so he would be greeted by them every time he comes home. In the end he picked one of the prettiest pair you own, shoved it in his pocket and went back into your room.

He gained more than he expected. Perhaps he should play drunk more often.

He got his shirt back on and got out the room. You couldn't possibly just left him in there all alone. And he was right, because he found you in the kitchen, sitting peacefully and taking a sip of some unknown liquid from a cup. "You're up?" the way your voice was still husky, your hair messy and your shirt falling off your shoulder. You said you didn't wanted him and yet you're trying to seduce him, how does that come?

He didn't open his mouth, only getting closer to you and taking the cup away from your hand, drinking from it without a single worry of what it might be.

It was tea, not so sweet, still warm and somehow hitting just right. "If you wanted some you could have said so." you said, getting up and walking towards one of your cabinets, getting out another cup and pouring some tea in it. "Here."

"I'll drink from this." he preferred your half empty cup rather than a full one? What a weirdo.

"Do you want to eat anything? I still have some leftovers from yesterday. I also think I still have some jam left, we could eat it with toast." stop showing him your caring side. He really doesn't know for how much longer he can keep it like this. This moment felt too intimate, it felt like you two really hooked up last night, and it was messing with his head.

You take good care of him, don't you? Offering him some of the biggest clothes you own so no one would suspect a thing, giving him a ride back to the studio. And now acting like you don't even know him. Stop being so cute, it only makes him want to bite you.

"You're here today?" the director said, looking at the two of you who got there at the same time.

"Don't we need to be here for a costumes check?" you clearly remember your assistant telling you to come back and do a last minute fit check.

"It's tomorrow." the white haired man said, wrapping his arm around yours.

"Why didn't you told me?" he was enjoying this too much, all a smile as he was trying not to react at your expression.

"I thought you were taking me home." you didn't even knew where he lives.

"Just go, you love birds. You clearly have better places to be at." the director laughed, making you look in disbelief at him. Love birds? Who?

"Come on, let's go back." Satoru didn't let you say a thing and dragged you out of there.

All he needs to do at the moment is keep people away from approaching you. And it's not hard, at all. Just standing next to you, flash a smile and say something that could be interpreted in wrong ways. He doesn't even need to try to make people run.

"Seriously, why didn't you tell me?" you said when you got back to your car. "Now I look stupid." you looked so gloomy, he was going to eat the pout of yours.

"I thought you knew." he'll get you even more confused about things if it means he'll see you like this. It gave him a false sense of security, like you were finally accepting him.

You sighed, not wanting to let out your anger on him. "Let me drive you home." it would be bad if more people sees you together. And at this point you don't trust anyone to come near your home to get him.

What a joke.

The next day you woke up with people blowing your phone again, and another article of your name next to his, talking about everything you did in public. Your interactions at the bar, how he was spotted at your house where he didn't left until the next morning, and about how you always look lovey dovey at the sets.

The filming progress just started and yet there were already rumors all over the internet about how you two would end up being more than just coworkers by the end of that movie.

Who keeps writing this? Seriously, it was getting on your nerves. And the fact that Satoru kept feeding delusions to the fans wasn't helping.

All this hype around the movie wasn't supposed to be only about you two, the main cast. It was supposed to be about all the production. The set, the visuals, the acting and the script, everyone's hard work. You should have turned down the offer as soon as you heard who your costar would be. But you didn't see any of these coming, so who can you blame?

Things only seems to get worse, because when you stared filming again, you got assigned with a new task.

"So, we're filming what were doing behind the scenes?" you asked, looking at the small camera that one of your coworkers was holding and then at them.

"The director said it would be fun. Giving people a little preview of what's going on." well, it didn't sounded that bad. People seems to enjoy behind the scenes footage in general, letting them see a bit of the actors lifes.

"I see." if the director said so, then you guess you don't really have a saying in this.

"We started already?" the white haired man appeared next to you out of nowhere, resting a hand on your head and leaning into you.

"Satoru, say hi to the camera." the actor said, moving the device to his face.

"Oh right, Y/N." there was a hint of his evil plan in his voice, already knowing you'd be pissed with him. "Are my clothes still at your place? I think I forgot them there." you really couldn't control your expression in that moment, looking at him like he killed somebody.

"What?" your voice was shaking, still not over the fact that he would say something like that in this situation. "Why would they be at my house?"

"I changed there last time. I think I left the clothes on the couch before we left."

"Ohh~" the other actor said, making you to look at them, somehow begging them to not get the wrong idea. "I see you're busy. I'll let you be, I won't interact."

"No, wait. It's not what it seems." it was already too late. "Why would you say that?" because he knew the director loves drama, and this would end up being published sooner or later. He was killing two birds with one stone. Doing a favor for the movie's publicity and showing the world that he already been in places some wouldn't even dare of dreaming of.

"People love things like these." he wrapped his hands around you, resting his chin on your head. "Hug me, the camera is in our direction." if it was or not, he couldn't care less. He just wanted to feel your touch in that moment.

It only got worse and worse the moment you started filming the sex scenes. The scenes were like a reflection of your own actions in real life, because everything started with a drunk kiss at a bar. Then ending up in his apartment where you were eating each other in the hallway.

It was supposed to be acting, the kisses didn't even needed to be real and yet he's not even holding back, touching you in all kind of inappropriate places, groping you shamelessly like there aren't cameras all over the place.

He pinned you against the sturdiest wall in there, making you wrap your legs around him as he kept biting and kissing you all over the place. At this point, you don't think the editors would need any sonds effects for your scenes. Because you realized how filthy those sounds were, and loud. Every time you kissed it was echoing in that empty place, the small setting that was supposed to represent a house wouldn't be enough to muffle the sounds.

He bite your lip when he realized your head was in a complete another place. How dare you ignore him in moments like these. You couldn't run even if you wanted, because you'd have to come back to him and film everything from the start. Or perhaps he could make you screw up on purpose, to retake this scene so he could touch you even more.

"Wait." you tried to stop him when you felt his hand under your shirt, trying to unclip your bra.

"What?" he said out of breath, taking his lips away from you for a moment so he could look at you.

"Let-" you looked away, too embarrassed at the way he was looking at you, his pupils were dilated and he looked like he would really put his dick in you if it wasn't for all these people in there. "Let me do it." his lips were back on yours while his hands were trying to take your clothes off.

Both of your clothes were all over the place, and you know it would be a pain in the ass to pick them after. He was too focused on this, the way he looked like he couldn't see anyone but you, like you were really alone in his house.

That's the beauty of acting, no? How some could get so focused on the plot, acting like their character is supposed to and forgetting about the outside world. But he wasn't acting in that moment. Maybe you were, but he taking this very personally. And the fact that you were holding back moans, refusing to touch him more than necessary and trying to stay in your character was infuriating him. It wasn't his character that makes you feel good, it was him.

He ended up throwing you in the bed a little harder than he intended, his touch becoming rougher and his kisses even wetter than before.

Good god, it's good that the scene ended soon after you two got to the bed, or else you would have lost it. You're already soaking wet, you have no idea what you would have done if this kept going for too long.

The scene was perfect, as much as you're embarrassed about it, it was pure perfection. Not a single time did the director called cut, you didn't had to retake the same scene from another angle. Nothing was said about your so called acting besides that you were in complete sync.

He's taking revenge on you, isn't he? Because even now after you finished your scenes for today, he looked at you with the same hungry eyes. And you swear you didn't mean it, but it made your pussy clench.

You gave him a quick look, squeezing your thighs together for a moment when he looked back at you.

It was something that he never saw before, the way you act. That expression on your face, pouting and looking at him with this thing in your eyes that made him want to drag you somewhere far away from people. You needed him, didn't you? And he was going to help you if you asked him to. Because if he got you in that state, then he also had to resolve your problem.

But you didn't spoke to him, you just looked at him all needy for a moment, like you wanted his touch back on you and then left, leaving him with the worst bonner he ever got in his life. This, only to come back a few days later for your next scenes.

You were driving him insane. And there aren't enough interactions in the movie to take out his frustration on you. There are too little scenes, and sometimes he had to improvise when he was getting too lost in his feelings. A few kisses here and there, just a quick peak when you were in the background to give more life to the movie.

But you still didn't said a thing, acting like this was all part of the script, like you were payed to do so.

So can you blame him when he wrote you another letter again? This time more aggressive than the previous times. Talking about how you got him feeling, how he craves for your touch and it drives him insane the way you seem not to care. Give him attention, or act like you acknowledge him. And this time he left the paper in your dressing room, placed under one of your stuff where he knows you'll know it was meant for you.

Too bad he couldn't see your reaction when you read the letter, but he realized you weren't too happy about it. It got you acting paranoid again, he could see it in your eyes, your body language. How you need to have a bit of distance from anyone that tries to come too close to you, and how you seem not to trust people anymore.

It was just a letter, he didn't even wrote everything down. No, in fact, he held back a lot. Because if he did wrote his mind you would refuse to come back into the movie set ever again.

But that's your charm, I guess. How you don't hide your feelings, and how you try to not make it obviously that you're displeased with things even if it's written all over your face. You're a good actress, a very good one, and yet you don't act unless you're required to. You were the opposite of him, where he always haves a mask on, the same business smile as you. But unlike you, he doesn't mean an thing, this friendly facade.

You were genuinely a sweetheart, while he only acted as he sees fit. And in this moment he's so close on fucking everything up just to toy with you. Because he's at his limits.

It was time for another suggestive scene, the set being filled with less people than usually. The lowlights, the atmosphere and everything in there was a bit suffocating. But maybe because of how much you overworked yourself these days.

"Do you think the plan will work?" you asked, sitting on his couch and looking at the coffee table that was placed there by the staff members.

"Do we have any other option?" he said his line in a serious tone, his character was supposed to be stressed from all the unfortunate events that happened lately, but it seems that he too is stress. Well, everybody been working overtime lately, but the sooner you were done with this movie the sooner you could move on with your life.

"I wish we could resolved this peacefully, I'm tired of fighting." you sighed, looking at your fingers for a moment and then at him who was resting not so far from you on the couch.

"Come here." he pat his lap, his back resting against the couch and he didn't even wanted to move an inch from there. He was improvising again, he was supposed to get up and drag about bottle of alcohol into this.

You followed his instructions, not wanting to pretend to be drunk again, and somehow not wanting to act in that moment too. If he haves a better idea for this scene then you'll follow his lead.

So, you sat on his lap, legs spread on either sides of him and wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands resting on your hips, moving towards your ass as he grabbed you and dragged you closer to him, your chest pressed against his as he placed you over his hard cock. You could feel him through his pants, and for a moment you stopped functioning, not knowing how to react to this.

"Well figure it out." he kissed you, his hands going under your shirt to make contact with your burning skin.

The kiss was so sloppy, both of you too tired to figure out a pace you should go at. Just touching, getting lost in the way your bodies seem to welcome each other openly. For a moment even forgetting where you actually are at the moment, and if the director wouldn't have said cut, you could have definitely escalated things.

What was going on in your mind? How could you let yourself so carefree? If you was just a bit more tired and at a state where you couldn't think properly, you would have definitely dragged him to your changing room and fucked him there.

And you woke up with another letter, even worse than last time. Talking about how your body looks, how he wants to get his hands on you, how you turn him on in the worst way possible.

The more you ignored those letters, the more they came. It got so bad, describing his fantasies, the way you appear in his dreams to haunt him like he wasn't haunting you right now. You had no idea who the sender was, because sometimes the letters would be sign as S, sometimes they would just be filled with nothing but filthy words and no signature. But you knew it was the same person from their handwriting.

You'd always wake up with them in places where there aren't many people allowed. And no matter how hard you're thinking about, you can't figure who it was. There were no cameras in this side of the studio, so you couldn't even see who was tormenting you.

"Why don't we go drinking tonight?" the director said one time before you were almost done with work fot that day. "We're almost done with filming, lets celebrate." after all these stressful days, you could use a drink.

It will be quick, go there, have a chat with a few people, have a drink and then go home. But just like last time, one drink turned into too many and you ended up in a corner of the bar with your costar who seemed to feed you even more alcohol.

He had his chin resting against his palm, looking at you with a smile on his face as he kept pouring more of that bitter liquor into your glass. "I can't drink no more." you couldn't even speak properly, hiccuping and moving left to right, like you were about to fall off your chair.

"One more won't hurt." the bar was still filled with people, so he had to keep himself in place.

"I got the car ready." your assistant came to your table looking at you and then at the white haired man. "I have to take her home, she's already too drunk." maybe he should get rid of this one too. It seems that all your assistants like to get in between his plans.

But perhaps he got a better idea. He took your glass, gulping down everything that was in it in a second before he tried to get you to the car. "Give me a ride too." he got in the backseat of your car, pretending to fall asleep after some time.

Your assistant tried to call anyone related to him, to come pick him up from your house because he seems too drunk to even stand on his own feet. But since no one was answering, they had no choice but to get him in your house, leaving him on the couch before they left.

It was always easy, so damn easy. He couldn't help but laugh. Drunk, him? He never got drunk in his life. Alcohol seems to have no effect on him.

He made his way to your room, getting next to the bed and looking at you sleeping. How dare you be so at peace when he's there? You were panicking all over the place last time he wrote you a letter, crying and refusing to talk to anybody if it wasn't for work. And now you act like you forgot about it.

He stood in place, looking down at you with an expressionless face as he can't think of anything at the moment. He got this far, so what? He could scare you more, give you a reason to hate him but at the same time all he wants to do is stand there all night and look at you.

He took his phone out, taking a quick picture of you before he put it back in his pocket.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, not far from where you're sleeping, looking out the window and then back at you. You had quite a nice view, no wonder you always seem to be in a hurry to come home.

Should he do something mean? Leave another letter in your home to see your reaction the next day. He could put it in one of your pockets and act like he doesn't remember anything besides going to the bar to drink. Maybe even leave the front door open and say some shit about hearing something while he was asleep.

But before he could think of anything more, you extend a hand, grabbing him by his shirt and trying to drag him closer. Like before, he just stood in place, looking down at you who seemed to pull harder. Were you mistaking him for the blanket or something? Unfortunately for you, he won't take off his clothes until you do so.

"Mm." you groaned, opening your eyes to look at the white haired man confused. "Ah.." you rubbed your forehead. "Fuck." that was the first time he heard you swear. "Come here." were you still sleeping? Because he doubts you'd react that lightly to him being there. But you were calling for him, and he wouldn't dare to say no to you. So he got in that bed, getting all cozy next to you and waiting for your next move.

For a moment you just touched him, moving your hand on his face, trying to feel something before it went lower on his body. He stood there, observing your clumsy actions and letting you do whatever you wanted with him. Your hands kept wandering, from his chest to his abs under his shirt, and now you were tugging at his pants, trying to see what you didn't got to see until now.

You were funny, the way you looked surprised whenever you discovered something new about him. "Don't do that." he said when you kept trying to get your hands in his pants.

"I want to see it." you pout, looking at him for a moment before you moved his shirt out the way, exposing his lower abdomen. "If you're as big as it feels." his heart skipped a beat, he couldn't help but cover his face with his hands. Do whatever you want, he'll hold back so you can explore as much as you want. "Ohh!" seriously, he can't even look at you when you make those faces. He was biting his lips so hard, he's afraid he might moan before you even touch him. "Why are you so big? Look at the size." his cock twitched, making you let out another surprised sound.

"Touch it." he said between his teeth, looking at you between his fingers and at what you're doing.

Your eyes moved on his, a serious expression on your face before your eyes went back to his dick. Can you even fit something like this inside you? The size was just ridiculous, but that didn't stopped you from touching it. Moving your hand around and studying like it was the first time seeing a cock.

He was bucking his hips forward in your hand, breathing heavily as he tried to keep himself from touching you. This was the first time you ever showed interest in him, he can't just fuck this up.

"How does it feel?" you asked, looking at the way he throws his head backwards, his chest rising and falling down.

Good, it feels so fucking good. He might go crazy from how soft your hand was. He moaned, not even being able to let out words, or think of a way to respond to you.

"I want that too." you took your hand away, making him to finally look at you as you took your clothes off. Now sitting on top of him, taking his cock back in your hand and trying to take him inside your pussy. But it didn't matter how much you're trying, it was impossible to get at least his head. It hurts, the more you try the more frustrated you became. "It doesn't fit." his dick twitched again. You're killing him, you're saying stuff he didn't imagine you to say, and it was killing him inside.

"I'll make it fit." he pushed you off him, pinning you down into the bed as he got in between your legs, placing kisses on your body as he went lower and lower, until he got to your pussy.

He loved the way you taste, it was better than he imagined. So much fucking better. It was no wander he was trying to devour you, I mean, who knows when he's going to do this again. So he might as well do it until he memorizes your taste.

Your hands went through his hair, tugging at it lightly as you let out soft moans, even cursing under your breath from time to time, letting him know how good you were feeling.

He pulled a few orgasms out of you, loving way too much the way your thighs wrapped around him, or how you're trembling, looking at him with teary eyes and you only seem to want more.

He'll give you more, he'll give you as much as you ask for, fuck, even more. He'll make sure to make you fit him, prepare you so good that you could only fit his cock from now on. He'll give you a reason to keep going back to him.

He got up from between your legs, sitting next to you as he got his hand back to your pussy, slowly pushing two fingers inside and making you gasp. "Is it good?" he whispered in your ear, feeling the way you clench around him. All you did was to nod, looking at him with big doe eyes and leaning more into him, to feel more of his warmth.

"Deeper." you said when he didn't went more than halfway through, moving his fingers at a slow pace that it left you hanging, almost giving you no friction whatsoever.

He kissed you quickly before moving his eyes back on your pussy, resting his cheek against your head. Be careful what you're wishing for, he'll go so deep that you'd feel him in places you never knew existed. It's already hard to hold back, but if you keep provoking him he might let his mind slip for a moment.

So, doing just as you asked him to, he got deeper, curling his fingers upwards and making you squirm. He kissed you again, this time taking no break as he kept bullying your insides, making your walls get tighter around him. How is he going to live without this? How can he go back home and act like everything is normal after this? That's why he couldn't help but move faster, in a irregular pace as he kept stopping from time to time only to go rougher. So you wouldn't get too used to him.

You were a moaning mess, and he seems to only want you to lose your mind, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, kissing you as he made you turn around so he could do it from another position. He wants to go even deeper, to get back at your words, for requesting unnecessary things when he was going to give you what you wanted anyway.

"One more, come on baby. Give me one more." for how much longer is he going to say that? He's starting to get on your nerves at this point. But in the end, he finally took his fingers out of you. Dragging you closer to him so your back could be pressed against his chest, one of his arms under you head as he kept your hair away from your face, so he could be able to look at you. "You'll fit me now." he whispered in your ear, dragging your hips back and grabbing one of your legs, spreading them apart as he start whispering more filthy words in your ear. "Look at how you're taking me in." he said, waiting for you to say something, but to his surprise, you're long gone into the dream world. Sleeping soundlessly in his arms, like you forgot that he was even there.

He can't believe this. You actually fell asleep. You really dared to fall asleep and leave him there after you dragged him in your bed. The audacity you had. He's going to make sure to give you a hard time tomorrow for this. So, he too fell asleep next to you. A bit hard to do so, but he managed somehow.

The next day you woke up with your head killing you. You shouldn't have drank that much, how could you have been so dumb.

You were about to turn around when you realized that someone was in your bed, a pair of muscular arms around you, and someone breathing into the back of your neck. Your heart stopped working, you froze in place as you saw your soul leaving.

"Morning." a masculine voice could be heard from behind you, and you feared that you knew exactly who it was. He pressed his body into yours, letting you know you were both naked, and feeling his hard cock pressed against your back.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to run from there and not look back for a single moment. How could you have been so stupid, how could you just do that. Just how drunk did you got?

"Don't tell me you're planning on running away." he whispered into your ear, making you flinch. "You dragged me into your bed, put your hands all over me and now you're going to leave me after you used me as you pleased? I had no idea you were that type of person." you whined, because that's all you could do in that moment. What other explanation do you have?

"I can explain." he pressed his cock into you harder, making you yelp.

"Oh yeah?" one of his hands traveled on your body, now going up towards your boobs, making you gasp when he groped one. "You kept me up all night." you cried at his words. "Don't you remember the way you got on top of me? Trying to get my cock inside then crying about how big it is." you closed your eyes shut, trying not to let out another whine from remembering what happened last night.

"I'm sorry.." what else could you say besides that?

"You weren't sorry when you were telling me to go deeper." his hand went down your body, wanting to go in between your legs to spread them again, but you jumped out of bed.

"I'm sorry, alright. I have no idea what got into me last night." you were really planning on running? Don't make him laugh.

"So you really just used me then, huh?" he stood there, in your bed. Half his body being covered by the blanket while the other was all naked, his skin exposed to you and he didn't seemed to me ashamed at all by what happened.

But if you think about it, he was the one who got a bottle of a really strong liquor and dragged you to the corner of the bar, making you have a glass with him. "It's your fault too." his eyes wided, looking at you like he didn't expected to hear that. "I might have dragged you in my bed, but if you didn't liked it you wouldn't have stayed." he smiled, finally letting his mask drop as his body language suddenly changed. He looked more relaxed, a smirk on his face as he uncovered more of his body.

"Come here. Let's continue from where we were." you moved you eyes away from him, not daring to look in his direction as you could see his cock. "Don't be shy now. You weren't last night, so why should you be now?" you're not going to listen to his nonsense anymore. "You don't want me anymore? How sad." he looked at the way you were going to your closet. "I still want you though." you ignored him as you went to get dressed. But you couldn't even do that in peace because he got behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and resting his chin against your head. "You should wear that, it looks good on you." he pointed at some dress you had in there.

"I'm not going anywhere today." you want to be comfortable, not dress up for nothing.

"Then wear nothing. I like it when you have nothing on." you could feel that, since he made it sure to let you know he was still as hard as before.

"Here." you said as you picked some clothes that were clearly too big to be on your size. "You can wear this." now that's he's thinking about it, something doesn't add up.

"Why do you have male clothes in your closet?" who else wore these? And you dared to give them to him like it was nothing too.

"I like buying them since they're comfortable." oh, that was an option too. Why didn't he thought of that? I mean, it's been quite a while since you last been in a relationship, and he knows that since he always knows what you're doing. What if he's not paying attention to you one time and you get married? He can't possibly let you do that. That empty spot in your bed was reserved to him. "We needed to talk." you said after you got dressed, getting out your closet and walking outside your room.

"About what?" he knows this moment. You always make people sign an NDA before you get into a anything deeper. But what he doesn't like about your relationships is that it's almost never too intimate, you just go out, eat, spend some time together and then that's it. Did one of those fuckers left you disappointed and now you're avoiding contact with other people? How sad. But well, since you have him now you don't have to think about that anymore. He'll get you drunk on his dick, and he'll make sure you only have eyes for him.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know if we can continue this." huh? That wasn't what you were supposed to say. "We still have to film the movie, and then the promotions. I don't want anything awkward between us."

"What about after?" you didn't said a thing, only looking down at your feet before looking at him. "So you did play with me, huh?" perhaps this was your revenge for making you feel weak. He can't believe you actually knew of his doings and you didn't said a thing.

"If you still feel the same after everything is done.." huh? What did you just said? You were actually going to give him a chance? The NDA still sounded better, and he'll sign it in a blink of an eye if you do hit him with one.

He thought that something would change, that you'd be more open to him. But no, you were still as distant as ever.

You were playing with him, weren't you? You were just playing dumb because you knew how he actually was feeling. Well, he too can tournament you. From that day onward he kept writing you everyday, placing the letters in really inconvenient places and watching your reaction from not that afar if he could.

He made sure to not let you rest a single moment while you were on the set. It did not lasted for long whatsoever, because the filming soon ended and the film was sent to editing, giving everybody a break until the promotions starts.

You skipped the party, lying about how you got a cold and you didn't want anyone else to catch it, so you stayed at home.

You still remember the day the trailer was published, the way your phone was blowing and how you didn't dared to even look at it that day. But when you did turned it on, everything was worse than you imagined.

The trailer opened with a scene of the city, then it got to the point of where the conflict started, and as you watched more, the more scenes from the movie were put in, the fighting, the peaceful times, and it ended with you and Satoru kissing against a wall. A big long scenes of just the two of you almost fucking in there, and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

The comments? You could smell them from a mile away. You could hear screamings and whistles, like you knew exactly what people were talking about. And you were right because when you opened that section you were met with people talking about you and your costar rather than the trailer itself.

"Was the last scenes necessary?" a comment said, and you couldn't agree more to it. But the replies under it said otherwise.

Your social medias? Filled with people purring about you and Gojo. And he seemed to enjoy this as he kept liking comments about the two of you. And now people were officially calling him your husband. He was the one demanding to be called yours, not the other way. Because you weren't his property, he was yours.

You tried to get out the house in god knows how many days, finally going to the agency to talk to your manager about the situation. Can't you calm it down somehow? And the answer was no. The media was responding so positively about this, you couldn't just say something about it when you were put in such a good light. I mean, look, there were so many people requesting for you appearance than any other times before. Your team was busy responding to phone calls and emails for you.

So many people wanted you in their movies, because if they get you they also get Gojo. Since he apparently, you have no idea when, said that he won't act in a movie unless you're there. And if you accepted a role, then they automatically get Satoru too. Killing two birds with one stone. Having two of the most hot actors, who happened to be a so called power couple, acting in their movie was a free pass to the most sold movie of the year.

But you didn't even looked at those offers, no matter how good they were. You don't want to get involved with him anymore, he was only going to bring you problems.

Instead of accepting any offers, you decide to make a quick appearance on some big show that only asked for you to participate. The first thing you heard today that didn't involved Gojo's name into it.

You were so happy to go there, all a smile and stress free knowing that you don't have to get involved with that guy any time soon.

Did you really think that it was going to be that easy? You just got there on the set and you were met with one of the questions you were trying to avoid.

"First of all, I'm a big fan." the host said when you sat down on the couch. "But I don't really wanna say much so your boyfriend won't get jealous." you awkwardly laughed. "How is he, btw?" you had no idea what to say.

"You know." you said, biting your lip and trying to think of an excuse. "We both been busy." you don't even know in what county is he right now.

"I'm sure you are." the interview went on, moving to other discussions and you managed to forget about the white haired man for a moment. "Hold on a second." the host said as they talked to a staff member. "So, um, I was informed about something. And, Y/N, we actually have a gift for you?" how sweet, you thought. Only to be welcomed with your costar on the set, making the audience clap. "What a surprise, right?" you smiled, putting on your same old business smile on as you tried to keep your composure.

"I was nearby and I was thinking why not paying a visit." he lied as he got closer to the couch.

"It's always nice to have you here." the host said. "Please sit down, I actually wanted to ask about the new movie you two played in."

"I'd love to but I'm kinda in a hurry." he leaned down towards you, placing a quick kiss on your cheek and messing with your hair for a moment. "You two have fun." he said as he got away from you. "I have to go now. I wasn't even supposed to stop to begin with." he waved as he left, making the audience sound way too happy about this.

"Relax, no need to be shy." the host said, looking at your expression. "We already saw the trailer, it's nothing we haven't seen already." you wanted to cry. "So, about the movie. Does it have more of those scenes or were we deceived with the trailer?" you'll make sure to pick a written interview next.

"I'm not really sure if I should talk about it.." you tried to change the subject.

"It's not like you're spoiling the movie for us. We're curious about you and your partner." and that's what you don't like.

"Well.." everybody's eyes were on you. "Let's just say that you'll see more." that was enough to make the crowd go crazy.

Because of that guy now you can't even deny that you two aren't together anymore.

You would have been alright with all of this if the nothing happened between the two of you, and if Gojo felt the same way as you. But he seemed to push the idea of something happening between the two of you to the public. It was driving you crazy because you didn't know how to react. You always told yourself that you won't get involved with anyone from the industry, that you'll make a few more movies and then retire, find someone simple and live an almost normal life.

But instead you're here, stuck with media actually approving of this non existent relationship.

You have to talk to Satoru next time you see him. But you never really got the chance to do that in private when the promotions started.

Interview after interview and it only looked like you were surrounded by more and more people. And he didn't wanted to talk to you when you tried to pull him aside, talking about how people will think something inappropriate about the two of you when he was the one who was saying stupid things in front of the camera.

Now it was the premiere, having to stay arm in arm with him the whole time. And he doesn't hold back even for a moment, letting his hands roam around your body and making the crowd go insane.

"Let's talk." you whispered to him, making him lower his head so he could hear you.

"What about?" he was playing dumb, he already knew what you wanted to say.

"Do you have some time later?" you said as you wrapped your arm around his, following his lead as he was guiding you around the red carpet.

"Who knows." he said that, but at the after party you managed to trap him in a corner not allowing him to go away before he had a talk with you. "There are people watching." a smile on his face as he said that, looking at your angry face as you had him pinned to the wall.

"I don't care. You're going to run again." look at how the roles switched. He had no idea you would actually try to confront him.

"Then." he wrapped his arms around you, looking down at you and grinning from ear to ear. "What do you want to talk about."

"People are thinking that we really are in a relationship." your current position wasn't any better either. People were giving you looks like you were being perverts in public.

"They are?" why was he acting shocked when he was the one feeding that idea to others.

"We don't have to pretend anymore." you said, but that only made him to drag you closer.

"You said you'd give me a chance after we're done with the movie." you said a lot of things that you didn't mean, why was this any different.

"I just said that I don't want people to think we're in a relationship. What do you not get?" snap at him more, he can't be any happier than he's at that moment. He leaned down, his face getting closer to yours and placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Keep your promises, don't disappoint me." you huffed, turning your face in another direction only for him to turn it back towards him and kiss you on your lips. "Let's get out of here. It started to get boring anyway." why did you listen to him was a mystery, why you followed him to his car and back to his house was something you couldn't figure it out. And how you ended up in his bed? You can't really respond to that either.

He was kissing you, hands under your clothes and trying to get them off as fast as he could. Moaning into your mouth whenever you touched him, pushing his body into yours and trying to become one with you in a way or another.

How could you think that you could leave him? What would he do if he doesn't have you? What is he supposed to do from now on if he can't think about you 24/7? To even dare to think about abandoning him, he's going to punish you for this.

"Turn around." that stupid dress was in his way, he can't believe your stylist really made you wear this. What if there are fuckers out there who still dares to look at you even after he made it very clearly who you belong to.

Well, whatever. He'll make sure to get rid of that stylist of yours. Not a big problem.

He kissed your back as your skin became exposed to him. With a swift movement taking your panties off and throwing them somewhere easy to spot, to not forget to take them later.

You had to tell him to take his clothes off so you could catch a break, otherwise he would have took you there from how impatient he was.

You just stood there, at the edge of his bed, one leg over the other and looking at him trying to take off his tie faster. He really had to wear a fucking suit, now look at him, he was about to rip it off him. And look at you, you look so calm about this, enjoying seeing him struggle while he was losing his mind. "Undress me." he looked down at you, taking a few steps closer to you, and taking your hand in his and placing over his white shirt to unbutton it.

You might as well do it, you don't see why not. But the problem was him and his stubbornness. Kissing you, almost pushing you in bed while you were just trying to do as he said. It took a long time, and the task seemed to never end, but here you were now, with him on top of you and making you wrap your legs around him. No fancy party could make him miss this, in fact he couldn't even care about that damn premiere to begin with.

His hands were traveling on your body, touching you in some of his favorite places. You were so warm, he couldn't help himself. How you gasp whenever he's groping you, dragging you closer to him so he could feel you even closer, even if there was no more space left between the two of you.

"Put it in already." you demanded, but he wasn't going to just give it to you yet. What if you struggle like last time? He can't let you say such dirty words again or you might not be able to walk at all tomorrow.

"There's no rush." you can act as cute as you want, he's going to take his time with you. After all, you need to see how good he can treat you, make you feel so good that all you'll remember is his name. He kissed your forehead before he moved his eyes on his hand that was going in between your legs. "Look how wet you are." you were a bit embarrassed about it. "And you said that you don't want me." your body can be more honest sometimes, and he'll love to learn more about it.

He got some of your juices on his fingers, moving it around your clit to see the way your body tensed immediately. Weren't you a needy one? He kissed the side of your face before pushing two of his fingers in, paying attention to the face you were making and at the way you were sucking him in.

He moved his hand at a relatively slow pace, it was more about to make you feel the way you're taking him, how deep his fingers can go compared to yours, or anybody else. You can only feel like this because of him. See the way you're still so tight? That's because he wasn't there to stretch you out the way you needed.

"Keep your eyes open, alright baby?" he spoke to you in a baby voice, making you feel like he was mocking you. "Don't hide from me." can't he just fuck you already? Why was he playing around so much.

You did tried to do as he said, keeping your eyes open and trying to avoid eye contact with him because it made your pissy clench. This was so embarrassing, the way he was taking his sweet time and giving you almost no friction at all, and how he seems to enjoy this. Like torturing you was bringing him pleasure.

He didn't let you say a word and smashed his lips against yours, placing his palm against your clit as he finally started to move like he means it. Curling his fingers up so hard it got you squirming and letting out a few moans. And you never seem to stay in place, moving around and arching your back every time he was hitting something that makes you see stars.

You were a mess, the way you were so wet that your juices got on his bedsheets, and the noises your body makes were so obscene and loud it was hard to ignore.

He noticed the way you look at him, pleading for some mercy like you were at your limit about to break. But there was so much more in you, one orgasm wasn't going to stop him from giving you another. And he swears on his name the next one will be even mind blowing.

That's when he took his hand back to himself, making you sit more comfortably in bed before he positioned back in between your legs. This time he'll make sure you'll stay awake and take all of him, there was no other way.

You looked at his face and then at his cock, at the way he had his head at your entrance, almost pushing it in. You'll take him? Like, you're really going to fit him? "You can do it." he said when he finally pushed some of his cock in. "Fuck." he cursed under his breath. "I know you can do it." he let out a moan, throwing his head back for a moment before moving his eyes back on you. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes closed and the cutest pout you ever showed him. It was like you really had a death wish, to fuck with his feelings like this and making his dick twitch. If he couldn't control himself any better he would had came right there on the spot. "Too much?" he said as he kept pushing his cock all the way in, making you nod as your words were stuck in your throat. "That's too bad."

You won't see any sympathy from him. Does he even knows what that means to begin with? You're too delicious, and the fact that he could pull even more expressions out of you made him push you over your limits.

So here he was, moving in and out of you way slower than he wants, rubbing your clit with his thumb and observing you like the pervert he is. He was salivating, drooling over your weak form as you showed him your off guard self. His cock twitching every time you let out a moan, and making you jolt at the sensation.

"Does it hurt?" he asked as he kept looking down at you, moving his hips in the same old motion. You nodded again, eyes still closed and biting your lip because of how he made you feel. He'll make it hurt even more, don't think that you can rest yet just because he's going easy on you. Fuck, he wants to sink his teeth into you so bad, leave marks all over your body as he rams his cock in and out of you.

But then you looked at him, big teary doe eyes that had him seeing a flash before him. He almost came, like, he almost cum just because you looked at him. If you want him to keep it together you have to talk some sense into him, because he doesn't think he can recover from that.

"You can move." no, don't give him a green light. Torment him more, play with his feeling and edge him till he's losing his damn mind. Don't be so sweet to him, he'll end up locking you up if you do that.

He pressed his chest against yours, his mouth finding yours as he started kissing you like the most starved man on earth. He moved his hips without a warning, slamming into you like you were his toy, and yet demanding for your touch. He was pushing himself into you, trying to steal the air away from your lungs as he seemed more desperate with each thrust.

He was looking into your eyes, waiting for you to snap at him and push him off, or tell him that's he's being too rough so he could stop being so delusional. But you didn't, only dragging him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him just as needy as he was, both of you being a moaning mess. And not letting go of each other even after you came, wanting to feel even more. To cum again and again, and to be filled by him to the brim, even if you knew that would bring you some serious problems later when you finally come back to your senses.

The next day you woke up with a sore body, your skin aching all over the place, and barely being able to get up the bed.

That didn't stopped you from getting dressed with some clothes you found around the room, what you can only assume it was his since they were way too big.

You got out the room, in hope to find your phone or maybe the white haired man so he could get you back home. And now you were in the living room, looking around for your things. Instead finding a letter, that seemed way too familiar.

That handwriting, you could recognize it everywhere. And that damn signature, the fucking S.

It was one of the letters he didn't managed to 'give' it to you yet. And honestly, you don't know if you should be relieved or terrified because this one was worse than anything before.

You turned around, paper still in your hand and looking at the tall guy who had his back pressed against the wall. He was expressionless, no thoughts behind his head as he seemed to stare at you like he was looking into the void.

It was him, that damn son of a bitch. He played with you all this time and you had no idea.

"I made you breakfast." he said, not every caring if you found out about his doings or not. "Come while it's still hot." he let out a laugh at your expression. You never hold back, do you? Can you at least try to not look like your about to kill him?

#jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu satoru

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cocoacat323 · 7 hours ago

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I love all comments, but ones that actually analyse and pay attention to all the details I lovingly added to my work are just so amazing. This isn’t to say I don’t appreciate the hearts of the keysmashes, I absolutely do! And those comments have definitely inspired me too, but I love long, rambling comments so much.

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

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rsepetals · 2 days ago

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nsfw + fluff! in which he’s whipped ♡︎

sweetheart!reiner who despite his demanding role as a firefighter, always finds time to prepare heart-shaped pancakes for you on his days off. rising early, he meticulously mixes the batter and pours it into the pan with the same precision he applies to his work. the kitchen becomes infused with a delightful aroma as he flips each pancake, a gentle smile on his face, fully aware of the significance these small acts of affection hold for you. even amidst his numerous responsibilities, he consistently seizes the opportunity to express his love through these simple yet profoundly meaningful gestures.

sweetheart!reiner who is incredibly clingy, always craving the warmth of your skin. whether it’s his hand resting on your thigh or his head nestled against your shoulder while he casually browses recipes to cook for you, he just has to be in contact with his beautiful girl. if you try to nudge his sleeping form away, he’ll complain, insisting he’s not asleep as he wraps his strong, tattooed arms around you, pulling you back into his sturdy embrace. his touch is a constant source of comfort, a tangible expression of his love. even in the dead of night, if you attempt to move away, he instinctively tightens his hold, softly murmuring sleepily that he needs you close.

sweetheart!reiner who always has daily baby fever, it’s truly a sight to see. he can't help but rub your tummy, whispering about how eager he is to watch it swell and grow with the life you two will create together. shopping with him is a challenge, to say the least. he constantly picks up baby clothes, holding them up with a sparkle in his eyes as he imagines your future child wearing them. you can almost predict his words before he speaks: “we could start tonight.” he’ll lift the tiniest onesies, his fingers gliding over the soft fabric as he dreams of the little one who will eventually wear them.

sweetheart!reiner who doesn’t get invited out by the boys anymore to drink. it’s always the same story: a few drinks in, and reiner’s eyes glaze over with that familiar lovesick look. he’ll start with how amazing you are, describing every little thing he adores about you with a goofy grin plastered on his face. eren, connie and jean roll their eyes, knowing exactly where the conversation is heading. “my wife is sooo pretty, and she has the best pus—“ just as he’s about to launch into another explicit detail, eren’s quick to intervene, clamping a hand over reiner’s mouth to save everyone from another round of tmi.

sweetheart!reiner who loves asking about your day, always so attentive. hands palming your feet as you two sit on opposite ends of the freestanding bathtub, he’ll watch intently as you talk, his eyes never leaving your face. the warm water surrounds you both, creating a cocoon of intimacy. occasionally, he’ll press a kiss against your foot, his lips soft and tender against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. his fingers work gently, massaging away the stress of the day as he listens, genuinely interested in every detail you share. the candlelight flickers, casting a warm glow on his face, highlighting the love and adoration in his eyes.

sweetheart!reiner, who’s anything but a sweetheart as you ride his dick in the bath.

giant muscles wrap around your frame, keeping you safe as his hands wander, stroking over your sides, your hips, the tops of your thighs. his dick is big, so big it takes your breath away and leaves you reeling. you know that if it wasn't for the gentle grip of your husband, you'd be bouncing. his cock is a solid pillar that's rubbing your velvety insides, pressing against all the good spots as you're forced to take him. it's a tight squeeze. a snug fit. a perfect, sinful pleasure.

his hips lift, pushing up and in, the water making you both weightless. the sensation is almost too much and you cling to his chest, moaning out your pleasure as the pace becomes brutal. the slap of skin against skin is barely audible over the rush of water in the tub, but the feel of it is there. it's a slight sting, a delicious ache that you can't get enough of.

"you're doing so well, honey," he tells you, voice a soft purr. "takin’ me so well."

you can only moan, eyes shut as you're overcome with sensation. the stretch, the feel of his dick inside you, his hands holding you. the press of his mouth against yours as he steals your breath. he's all you can see, all you can feel, all you can think about. he’s so pretty, thick eyebrows furrowed, blonde hair clinging to his forehead. you can see every freckle and scar on his body, from the one just under his eye, to the one just below his clavicle. you're mesmerized by him.

he's not even panting, not like you are, and that makes it all the more thrilling. his voice is calm and steady as he says, "squeezing me so tight, you close already baby?” you don’t need to answer, your body giving him the answer. you're shaking, gasping, your nails biting into his skin. he just keeps smiling at you, that sweet, lazy smile of his that you love so much.

"then let's make you feel good, hm?"

and then his arms are gone from around you and his hips are moving faster, harder, driving himself deep. you're helpless to him, a rag doll as he uses your body to find his pleasure. there's no mercy as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you still as his hips snap up and down. it's a blur of sensation. it's almost painful how hard he's taking you, but there's no way you're telling him to stop. no way.

the sounds coming from you are obscene, whorish, but there's nothing you can do. you can't help but scream his name, begging him to go harder, faster. to never stop. he does as he's told. his mouth is on yours, stealing the last of your breath away. "such a good girl," he purrs against your lips. "such a good girl for me. come on, now, give me what i want."

"r-rei, oh my god!" you're helpless. powerless. at his mercy as your body gives him exactly what he's asking for. "there you go, baby. just like that," he says as he continues to pound into you. he's not done. you can't come again. you're going to die. "one more time."

"i-i can't-"

"sure you can. don't make me beg."

"i-i can't, fuck-"

his voice drops low, dangerous. "then i'll keep fucking you until you can. you'll be my cocksleeve if that's what i have to do." oh god, oh fuck, yes, please. he does. he keeps fucking you until you're seeing stars. he fucks you until you can't breathe, until your whole body is shaking and jerking with the force of his thrusts.

when he's finally done, when the aftershocks have stopped and the mess has been cleaned, the two of you end up in the bed. reiner’s casually laid between your thighs, reading a novel, humming as you wrap golden strands around your fingers. the silence is comforting, the sound of him turning pages nice. it's peaceful.

you sigh, closing your eyes. you don't even notice when he stops reading. "hey," he murmurs, voice low and rumbling. "i love you." and that's how you end up making love on the floor.

sweetheart!reiner who cried into your chest when you presented the positive pregnancy test weeks later.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ dedicated to @wintrrxxo

#valᥫ᭡.#aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot x black y/n #aot x poc!reader #aot x y/n #reiner x black reader #reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner x you #aot reiner #reiner x y/n #reiner smut #reiner snk #anime x black!reader #anime x y/n #aot smut #anime x reader #anime smut

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myfictionaldreams · 1 day ago

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so glad you’re back! happy new year!! please could you write poly!marauders where reader is feeling clingy and needy in the evening? like she’s just melting into the boys, wearing their clothes and they love every second if it.

Not Today, Please. // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: Why is it fair that every month, you have to experience agony for multiple days at a time? The boys hate seeing you suffer with your period and take it upon yourself to try and make you as comfortable as possible.

Requested by: I've mixed together a request from this lovely anon & @f1ct1onallove. Thank you both for your requests!

Tags: 18+ readers only, minimal smut, fluff, domestic bliss, menstruation, magical orgasm, comfort, kissing/cuddling, overall just cuteness

Words: 2.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It was an off day. It was normal. Everyone experienced them from time to time.

Today. You felt like complete and utter shit.

There wasn’t a major catastrophe that had happened for your day to be going this negatively, a surprising thought considering that you’re attending Hogwarts, which seemed to be renowned for its trouble occasionally. To be truthful, you were experiencing a mundane situation.

You’d started your period the day before. It was a typical event for those with a uterus. However, it was your second day of ‘hell’, which was usually your worst.

Agonising pain stemming from your abdomen, creeping to the muscles down your thighs, followed up nausea and exhaustion, irritability, and hunger that never seemed to fade, no matter the amount of food scoffed. Not to mention the absolute chaos from the blood that was lost that left you feeling in a constant state of dirty and ill.

Yet, despite all of this, life was expected to continue. Unfortunately, this included attending lessons, sitting in uncomfortable desks and chairs, and walking from one end of the immense castle to the next with minimal time to stop for breaks and lunch.

Sometimes, you cursed the fact that you were born with a uterus, and then the second you ceased bleeding, you were back to normal, but those few days were the pure definition of Hell.

One small detail to note was that, of course, you attend the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey create a concoction to aid with all of your symptoms. However, after attempting this multiple times, the only potion strong enough to work made you feel zoned out, disorientated and useless for the rest of the day. It was great before bed, but it did not mix well with tasks on a day-to-day basis.

This all leads to your current predicament of standing in a hidden corridor in the castle. Only a single lamp illuminated the cobweb-ridden walls. Not that you were paying attention to this, as your eyes were firmly shit. All you were concentrating on was controlling your breathing as another wave of pain flared in your abdomen.

Swaying on the spot, your fingers pressed firmly into the area that hurt, hoping to massage the ache away, but the way that your nose began to tingle with the threat of the tears building behind your closed eyes, nothing seemed to be helping.

One more lesson, that was all you had left for the day. Charms with Professor Flitwick and being the model student, it would be noted if you decided to skip. Instead, you chose to take these last few minutes before class to try and cope with the pain before sitting for the next hour in the same seat.

Another cramp ached through your lower body, causing your knees to tremble as you tried to do anything but fall to the floor.

A shuffle from the far end of the corridor had your pulse racing and nose sniffing as you tried to control your emotions, forcing the fake mask into place before anyone saw it.

Leaning away from the wall you were facing, you turned and immediately bumped face-first into a firm chest. The calming cedarwood scent notified you whose arms surrounded your back, a hand cradling your head soothingly as small circles were drawn on your lower back.

“I need to get better at this hide-and-seek game”, you try and joke as you tightly grip the back of his sweater, breathing him in entirely as the top of his head rests on yours.

Remus’ chest vibrates as he laughs under his breath, holding you tighter. “Maybe we should pick a better game, considering I have a little help in my back pocket”. Frowning, your fingers slip lower until they’re cupping his arse, half groping, half feeling for what he was referring to until you feel the parchment paper.

“That’s cheating using the Marauders Map to find me”, you muse whilst tilting your face up to look up at him. Remus always towered over you; even when you decided to dress up in heels, he continued to be the tallest in the room. Remus’ kind green eyes softened as he looked down at you, the hand cupping the back of your head and sliding to hold the side of your face.

“I’m worried about you”, he admits, cutting right to the chase. “I know you’re in pain, and I hate that you feel like you have to hide it”. You couldn’t help but sigh, knowing there was nothing that you could hide from either of your boyfriends.

“It’s not that I’m trying to hide anything; I just needed a minute to compose myself before class. Speaking of which, we are going to be late- Ah”, the gasp of pain is slipping out before you’re able to clamp your mouth shut. Resting your head against his chest, he holds you close whilst you wait for the pain to ease.

“Sorry, it’s easing slightly now. We can carry on,” you explain, pulling away from him to take his hand with the intention of continuing to class.

However, you’re pulled back as your boyfriend stands still, looking at you with a positive twink in his eyes that had you both weary and intrigued. “Firstly, never apologise for being in pain. Secondly, the class has been cancelled; that’s another reason why I’ve come to find you.”

“Class is never cancelled, what’s happened?”

Remus finally begins to move, only stepping toe to toe with you. “Something about Flitwick being unwell. I’m not sure, but we have other plans now”.

You aren’t sure whether to be buzzing with relief that you are expected to go to your last class of the day or be concerned with the plans Remus and the others have. The Gryffindor parties that your boyfriends and friends put on were infamous throughout the castle for how wild they were, but today, all you wanted to do was rot in bed with some chocolate and preferably your boyfriends wrapped around you.

Remus sensed your trepidation and lifted his free hand to tip your chin towards him, “Don’t look so worried. I promise you’ll like it. Come on”.

Reluctantly, you follow with one arm wrapped around your abdomen as Remus holds firmly onto your hands, and your thumb absentmindedly rubs over the thin silver scars on the back of his hands. It didn’t take long before you realised the area of the destination was the Room of Requirement. The longer you walked, the more you found yourself leaning into him, savouring his warm and firm grip on your hand until you were aware of how needy you appeared. Still, Remus didn’t seem to mind and occasionally leaned down to kiss the top of your head affectionally.

As the two of you approached the room of requirement, you paused and said, “Wait, I’m not sure I want to go to a party tonight, Remus. Could we please go back to the common room? Or could I just go and wait for you guys in bed?”

Remus gives you a reassuring smile, pulling the two of you along the corridor before stopping by a door as it materialises in the wall. “I promise you’ll love this”.

Still filled with uncertainty and expecting loud music and shouting from a crowd, you’re pleasantly surprised when you’re welcomed into the most comfortable-looking room you’ve ever seen. Jazz played at a quiet volume from somewhere in the corner, and a raging fire thoroughly warmed the room covered in pillows, blankets, armchairs, and stools.

Your jaw hung open as you admired every inch of the room, your eyes lingering on the ceiling as you admired, “Is the ceiling made of glass?” As you stared at the sky, your eyes widened, a beautiful orange and red hue like a sunset.

“Not quite”, James began as he appeared from under a pile of purple fluffy blankets, his cheeks blushed with rose and lips plump as Sirius sat up too, looking just as dishevelled. “It’s the same spell used in the Great Hall; it just reflects the sky outside”.

“It’s beautiful”, you muse, stepping further into the room and releasing Remus’ hand as he shuts the door behind you. “Who did this? That’s pretty advanced magic - Ah!” You squeal in surprise as you’re taken off your feet and spun around on the spot.

“Merlin, be careful with her prongs!” You hear Sirius chastise as he, too, approaches, but you don’t mind James’ antics as you cling to the excitable man, breathing him in.

“I’ve noticed something; I find it funny that even though Sirius’ animagus is the dog, and yet James is the one who acts like an excitable Puppy”, Remus points out whilst slinging an arm around Sirius’ shoulder.

“Hey-!” James begins as he carefully places you back on the floor and turns to his boyfriend to reprimand him. However, he is cut off as Sirius steps forward, gripping his cheeks together until James’ lips purse out so he can kiss them quickly.

“Aw, my little puppy”, Sirius jests before repeating the kissing action with you with a more tender, gentle touch, and you lean into it desperately. “Welcome to your wonderful evening of fun, Darling”.

“Thank you! This is amazing, boys!” you exclaim whilst looking around the room and trying to decide where to rest first, but then a thought came to you: where would you go to the bathroom? As soon as you are finished thinking that thought, a door appears in the corner of the room. Stepping away from your boyfriends, you explain, “I’m just going to use the bathroom. Do you have any spare comfortable clothes I could change into?”

James grins as he reaches for some folded-up clothes you’d missed, and a sense of belonging and comfort fills your heart as you see it includes his shirt. Cleaning up, you’re now in leggings and James’ old quidditch shirt, feeling refreshed yet cosy.

Returning to the room, you momentarily forget about your current circumstances. You admire your three boyfriends as they lounge in front of the fire, casually talking with one another but sharing grins as you walk back towards them. Except reality comes crashing back as another wave of cramps ruins your uterus.

Massaging your abdomen as you double over, you can hear Sirius swear loudly before clambering over the cushions to get to you but stops a foot away, his hands hovering over your shoulders but not touching. Needing comfort, you reach for him, mainly collapsing into him as you wait for the pain to subside.

As it does, you relish the touch of his strokes down the centre of your back as he begins to explain his actions: “Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to touch you. I know I get overstimulated when I’m in pain, and people touch me, so I didn’t want to grab you if you just needed a minute.”

Warmth spreads through your chest at his consideration, and you squeeze him tighter as you tiredly say, “You can always touch me”. His eyes reflect the mischief in his smile at the tone you say the words, but he laughs it off as you try to hide your face in his chest.

“Come on, you perv, let’s get you comfortable”. Following closely beside him, Sirius takes you to where the other two are resting in front of the fire.

“I’m going to get us some food and drinks”, James explains as he stands, kissing your lips carefully before leaving the three of you. As you lie down amongst the pillows and blankets, your head resting against Sirius’ chest, more pain and nausea hit you.

It’s Remus’ turn to give you a chaste kiss before standing and making his way towards the exit, explaining he would go and get the potion from Madam Pompfrey. This left you and Sirius to be close together. And close together is precisely what you needed.

The thumping of his heart as you rested your cheek against his chest was comforting. Your fingers rested over his stomach, but the need to be even closer came over you. Your fingers slipped beneath his jumper to rest against his soft skin. Sirius hummed in contentment at the touch as his fingers carefully massaged your abdomen to relieve the ache.

Sucking in a breath as more pain takes over, Sirius shifts so he’s looking down at you with concern etched across his face, the shoulder-length hair falling into his eyes.

“Are you warm enough? Do you want my jumper?”

“I mean, I’m not going to say no, " you drawl tiredly, watching intently as he reached behind his head, pulled his jumper off, and began to help it on. You’re immediately surrounded by everything Sirius, his warmth and smell making you feel like you’re in your own personal corner of heaven. His arms are back around you as soon as you’re comfortable, but you can tell he’s still thinking hard. As much as Sirius pretends to be mysterious, you can read his face like an open book. “What is it?”

“I’ve heard from somewhere that orgasms help with period cramps”, he remarks casually whilst continuing to massage the pain away. You couldn’t help but give him a deadpan look.

“As much as I agree with that sentiment, I’m not in the mood for the mess that would come if it”, you explain, trying to ignore the warmth now throbbing between your legs that had nothing to do with your period.

It’s his turn to give you a pointed look as he reminds you, “Love, I don’t have to have sex with you to make you orgasm, do you not remember your birthday?”

Heat laces your cheeks as you very vividly remember your birthday and the spell Sirius had learned to give you an orgasm without so much as touching you. Instead of saying anything further, you reached up to run your fingers into his hair and pulled his face towards yours. The kiss was gentle and yet heated, your entire body leaning completely into his, legs tangled together as your tongues danced against one another.

You needed everything Sirius could offer, craving him. From the moans he was making, he felt the same way as his weight pressed you further into the cushions beneath. His hands cupped against your face, cradling you so carefully it was like he was afraid you would break, whereas your grip was so intense in his hair you were surprised strands weren’t falling out.

Slowly, those delicate touches moved down your body until one of his hands rested over the area that continued to cramp, his fingers spread wide. His lips left yours but only to whisper the spell into your neck, causing the unbelievably intense orgasm to pulse through your cunt as you squeezed your thighs together as hard as you could. The effects of the orgasm were felt from the tip of your head all the way to your toes as you cried out, “Sirius!” as wave after wave of pleasure eased through you until you collapsed completely into your surroundings.

Sirius continued to hold you, his arms now wrapped around your waist and face. He kissed lightly against your jaw, cheek, tip of your nose, and lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“How was that?” he asked with a gleam in his grey eyes, a ghost of a smile threatening to break free across his handsome face.

“Perfect” was all you could muster of a response as you snuggled closer to him until your head rested against his chest and he simply held you. “My cramps don’t feel so bad anymore”.

“Hmm, good”, Sirius kisses the top of your head before humming to the music playing in the background.

You must have fallen asleep against him as when your eyes opened next, Remus was kneeling before you, holding out a purple bubbling concoction in a tiny vial. “Drink it all, and we’ll get you something to eat”, he instructs as you also notice that James has returned with plates and plates of all manner of foods and desserts.

Sitting up, you thanked him before drinking and then promptly gagged at the taste and texture of the potion. However, the effects were instantaneous as a sense of calm washed over you.

“Woah, easy there, I’ve got you, Darling”, Sirius reassures as you slump back into him, having no energy to hold your head up anymore.

“Open your eyes, Honey, I need you to eat this”. You do with great difficulty but are welcomed by the precious sight of James Potter grinning down at you with a bowl of soup in his lap, the spoon lifted and waiting for you to have.

James fed you the soup and bread as you fell into complete contentment at the care they were giving you. If you had any sense, you probably would have cried with joy and love, but the potion left you feeling too out of it, even if you had the energy to shed a tear.

“All good?” James asks as he finishes feeding you some ice cream. Licking your lips, you nod and smile tiredly at him. James returns with his cheeky grin, leaning down and kissing you before not so subtly pushing Sirius out of the way until his perfectly squished between you and Sirius. “Move over, Pads, it’s my turn to cuddle”.

Sirius swears but moves slightly over, and with everyone fed and happy, everyone gets comfortable. You remain where you are, lying against James’ chest. Remus then presses close against your back, his arm wrapping around you to rest over your hand, and Sirius lies sideways, his head resting against your head. It was a wholesome night, and there was nothing you appreciated more than your boyfriends. When the next few days passed, you would show them exactly how thankful you were for them.

#poly!marauders #the marauders #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders x reader #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #hp one shot #mine*

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mumblingsage · 1 day ago

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I'm no expert, but some options for titles:

-Instead of a song lyric, use a quote from your story (as a reader I love these! They give a flavor of the writing and highlight what the author finds important, plus when I then read the title quote in the story I get to shout "Title Drop!" like the excited little nerd I am)

-Use a quote from the canon you're writing fic for (ditto)

-Use a line from poetry, a famous speech, a play, or other source. Maybe start a file where you jot down phrases that catch your fancy + their origins so you can easily pick one (and cite it) the next time you're stuck.

-Take a page from Friends and try "The One Where [fic premise]." Bonus round: shave off "the one where" and just use the premise title.

-A phrase that refers to the central conflict of the story (a la Pride and Prejudice)

-A phrase that refers to the role of a character in the story (I know we all knocked book titles along the lines of The Watch-Winder's Daughter, but it at least gives you a noun to work with)

-A phrase or word that refers to the theme of the story

-A descriptive image or sensory detail from the story

-Stealing a technique from poets: Make the title the first line of your fic/vice versa.

-Use a Word-A-Day Calendar or SAT vocabulary guide or random page in a dictionary to grab a term which you then try to fit into your title

-Consider a pun

-When a title isn't working, try radically remixing it. Harlan Ellison once (in the writing advice anthology Now Write! Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror) recommended coming up with 3 alternative titles for a current project, including one that's very short and one that's very long (focusing on length rather than other considerations might quiet your inner critic). In the end, none of the 3 titles might be the right choice, but it'll get creative juices flowing.

me: *writes fic*

me: great! time to post to ao3-

ao3 summary box: *exists*

me:

ao3 summary box:

me:

ao3 summary box:

me:

#writing advice #story summaries #titles

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bondwithme-murderstyle · 1 day ago

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End of Session spencer reid x fem!therapist!reader

wc: 4.7k

Summary: Spencer Reid regularly attends therapy sessions and although his therapist picks his mind apart during their time together, she doesn't quite seem to consider that he's been doing it back to her all along

warnings: +18, mdni!! therapy setting, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, no kissing, porn without plot, unprotected p in v (do as I say, not as I do), no y/n, reader is described as wearing a bra and panties, overstimulation, cockwarming/soaking if you turn around and squint, Spencer edges reader, not as soft!dom as I planned oooops

an: ahhh! my first one-shot ever! i hope y'all like it! i got right to work on it for you! therapy!spencer we love you <3

Smut below the cut!

Spencer Reid had been a client of yours for some years. From the loss of his friend Elle when he was just a young man finding his feet in the world, to the passing and resurrection of Emily Prentiss when you watched his clipped wings start to ruffle and break free one feather at a time, and since the death of his fleeting romance, Maeve, you had watched him grow. A kind man. A nervous man at times depending on what was on his mind. But all the same, a good man.

There were sessions where he wouldn’t stop talking, his mouth going a million-miles-a-minute and there were sessions where he would sit quietly and only answer questions when prompted. Often, in these silent kinds of sessions, his arms would rest on the chair and his fingers would tap and tug at the stitching of the armrest, his long, slender fingers meticulously tracing the thread that held the chair together.

It was an easy bet that Spencer was one of your favourite patients despite the irregularity of his appointments due to his career. He never brought trouble to your door. He never turned down your offer of coffee or water, he was always kind when he spoke. “Yes, please.” or “Not today, thank you.” And he always, at the end of every session, asked how you were as he gathered his belongings and made his way for the door.

You had him penciled that evening. 6:30pm. Your final session of the day.

Since watching Spencer mature and bloom into the man he was today, you knew how inappropriate thoughts could be if they remained untethered. Having known him for so long in the most intricate of ways, your relationship had become somewhat of a relaxed professional friendship that he paid you for. But with that, came the leniency of your mind that sometimes would wander when with other clients. Spencer was far more intriguing.

And you often took your sessions home with you. It wasn’t the topic of the session you focused on when alone at night reading your books or taking a soak with a glass of wine; instead, it was the feelings he had expressed, it was the deep timbre of his voice and the purse of his lips when he listened intently to your advice. Oh, how closely he listened as though hanging on every word like you were the woman with all the answers to the universe when you sat opposite him. Those thoughts were proving dangerous but it was a far too delicious treat to deny yourself.

It had become almost a ritual before his sessions, to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror and give yourself a talking to. Should your mind continue to wonder, images growing more detailed and salacious, you would need to consider referring him to another therapist in the building in order to maintain the standard both of you expected. When his hair had started to grow long and he hobbled in to your office with crutches and then a cane some weeks later, it made your throat run dry for the first time. Of course, before that, in your natural human way- you observed a cute and smart man who just needed an ear to vent to. It was small at first, those mindless and fleeting ideals. When he picked at the edge of the chair, the bony structure of his fingers stirred and the thoughts started to linger for longer. Little moments, little mannerisms took root deep in your mind, eagerly awaiting the call from him to arrange his next appointment. You always made a point of taking his call personally, mainly to gauge a rough understanding of his reasoning for making the appointment but also to hear his voice and you even went to the lengths of sharing your direct office line.

That evening when he arrived, you could tell it was a quiet session. You still asked if he consented to having his sessions recorded but this time, he refused. Respectively, you noted the change and decided to leave your recorder in your desk drawer for the night. Spencer didn’t take his regular seat opposite your own. He had a mystery about him tonight. His hands rested in his pockets and he ventured to the window of your office, head slowly tilting as he observed the street below. “Can I get you water, or coffee before we start?” You asked and closed the door. “Not tonight.” There was an edge. A clip in his tone. Something played on his mind and you tried to work out what it could be as you took your seat and crossed your legs. Your notebook was opened and you clocked the time. 6:34pm. “Okay.” You sighed and smiled, waiting for him to turn around, “Let’s get started.” “Let’s.” Spencer said but remained with his back towards you. He hadn’t brought any of his usual belongings. There was no satchel that always took its place next to his seat. He had no jacket or sweater, only a crisp white shirt covering his back. You maneuvered your pen between your fingers, waiting for him to begin. You noticed the difference in the atmosphere. Mellow and subdued but you could smell the electricity, like the thickness in the air before a storm. Brewing, looming, ready to crack at any moment. It was difficult to concentrate in the silent space, your eyes studying the structure of his stature. He was no meek creature anymore. There was a broadness to his shoulders, a subtle- “Can I ask you a question?” Spencer spoke up but didn’t turn around. “Of course.” You answered him and readied your pen against the paper. “Do you believe in physiological profiling?” “Studying body language?” You questioned, “I do. It’s a marginal part of what I do.” “It’s what I do everyday.” He responded and now turned to look at you. Your eyes caught his. They were burning and dark, a sternness shrouded his face as he awaited your retort. Your lips rolled together in thought, attempting to pinpoint the root of the question. “You do it too. Every client. You read them.”

“I try to focus on their mind, Spencer.” You smile politely.

“Try to?” His ears pricked up and he took a step closer. “You don’t intend to study them?”

“I don’t. I observe what my clients give. I don’t look much deeper than that.”

“You’ve been studying me.” Spencer approached, reminiscent of a pack-animal stalking close to its prey.

“I’ve been working with you for a long time, now, Spencer. That’s why I record our sessions. I study your words, your cadence, your tone- it tells me more about you than your body-language could.” Your words made him stop and fix himself to the corner of the rug by your desk. His eyes narrowed slightly before he licked his lips and tugged a hand from his pocket to pull at his bottom lip. You tilted your head and watched him. Ever a stoic man, Spencer smiled and nodded after a moment before his hand dropped from his mouth. “Spencer, what brings you here tonight?”

“You do.” His other hand freed itself from his pocket and he gestured to the end-table by your chair, “Put it down.” He instructed and stalked that little bit closer. His command made you scoff lightly and you closed your notebook over on itself, placing it aside.

“Spencer,” You teased, “I have to make notes if you won’t consent to recordings. Completely confidential, I assure you every time you come here.”

“You don’t need notes, doctor. You know enough.” The words cut you to the quick, the quickening beat of your heart caused a flush of heat into your palms, your cheeks. “Do you know what I do when I’m here? Aside from the obvious?” Spencer asked and licked his lips a second time, the pink tip of his tongue dragging slowly back into his mouth over his bottom lip before closing again, waiting for an answer. You weren’t sure where he was going, you weren’t sure how you felt other than incredibly warm and in need of some water. His eyes remained on you, inescapable and fixed.

“What do you do, Spencer? Aside from the obvious.” You echoed and he seemed to like that, bringing his steps closer once more until he stood by your chair, your table. “I don’t play guessing games. You know I’m not very good at them!” You try to joke and find your hands clasped now between your thighs in place of the notebook, “You should tell me.”

This was the moment where his hand came to rest on the arm of your own chair, crouching at first and then kneeling. “Open.” He instructed carefully. At first your lips parted, speechless and you were aware in your rational mind that this was close to bordering on inappropriate. Secondly, your legs uncrossed and once more, this seemed to please him. “Do you know what I do when I’m here?” He repeated the question, moving himself to the front of your legs with a gaze that only encouraged you to open up a little bit more. Your heart was in your mouth, your clustered hands beginning to perspire and a heat built as a result. You shook your head, completely transfixed by the look in his eyes. The dark look that flit back and forth on your face and stole your ability to breathe. “I,” Spencer began, his free hand pushing one knee out of the way, “like to think,” the other knee. A space just large enough for him to push into, “about what you think.”

“W-What I think?” Your voice is barely a whisper. His hand remained on your knee and started to move down over your calf, tracing the definition and giving a soft squeeze before moving back up to the part of your thigh that joins to your knee.

“I think,” Spencer said rather knowingly, his thumb and fingers pressing gently at the soft, malleable skin beneath your pants, “you think about me.” This made you hold your breath. Damn it all to hell, what was he doing?

“Spencer, this is becoming unprofessional.”

“Your thoughts about me are unprofessional.” He quipped and pushed his hand higher. “How long have you had them?” He asked and gave another firmer squeeze to the middle of your thigh. You could feel your breathing grow deeper, quivering in your chest as you attempted to keep your mind reeling over and over your code of conduct. Your silence must have been too long for his liking. “I said, how long have you had them?”

“Not long.”

“You’re lying to me, doctor.”

“I-I’m not.” You defended and swallowed harshly, your hands coming apart to straighten yourself up in your chair. Your movement made him surge towards you, stopping just inches from your chest, both hands now on either of your thighs. “Spencer, is something going on? You’re not acting like yourself.” You tried again to keep your mind on an even-keel and remain the authoritative figure.

“I am acting like myself. The part you don’t see,” His breath ghosted over you, “the part you think about when you know you really shouldn’t.”

How did he know? You had been so careful to remain professional and upright in his company. Whatever he had known, he gave nothing away until now. “You’re going to stand up for me and we are going to switch places, doctor.” Spencer said and his hands pushed further into your thighs, moving with a pressure so close to the heat that bubbled and swirled. There was nothing you could do except comply. When you tried to move forward, his force on your legs kept you down, “I didn’t say right now.”

“Spencer, w-what are you doing?” You asked with a hot anticipation, itching for the thumbs on the insides of your thighs to venture where you know they shouldn’t. Just a skim. Just a taste. His influence on you and control of the situation was melting your mind.

“I’m doing what I want. What you want.” He looked up at you and took a firm hold of your legs, pulling your body closer to the edge of the chair. It made you gasp and his fingers felt now against your ass, deliciously sandwiched between the soft leather and the polyester of your tailored pants. “And you want to take these off.” He said as his fingers deliberately pushed into the seat of the pants. Without thinking, without arguing, you looked down at him, lips still parted and short breaths coming in and out of your mouth as your fingers unfastened the clip, the zip. He helped you to stand but didn’t move to his feet. Instead, Spencer fell back on his knees, only moving back just enough to remain faced with your panties as the black pants were pushed down your thighs, caught by him and ripped the rest of the way down with a fervour that took your breath away. When you sat back down, you kicked them off of your feet, Spencer’s hand feeling over the soft skin of your calf once more, his other hand unbuckling his leather belt.

“This isn’t-” he stole your words amidst the jingle of his buckle and the heat of his lips on your skin, “Oh-!” You could feel yourself grow hot, your hands remaining by your sides and holding onto your legs as he kissed and traced featherlight against you, edging closer to where you desperately needed him the most.

“Do you always do as you’re told by a client?” Spencer breathed warmly against you, tricking into your core and you had no choice but to lean back and take a deeper breath. As you tried any attempt to cool yourself down, you felt his teeth graze closer, nipping the sensitively thin skin. “I asked you a question, doctor.” He spoke low enough to feel the vibrations ripple through your muscles, tantalising you further.

“C-Clients don’t tell me what to do.” You managed to stagger the words out as his hands were placed at the bottom of your back, further edging you closer like a hungry child pulling their plate closer to the edge of the table. His eyes glanced upwards to you, an eyebrow raised and scanned down your neck, settling on your chest and you knew immediately what he was asking you to do without saying any word at all. You heed his instruction and unbutton your blouse with shaking fingers, his arms pressing against the spaces yours left behind and his hold was firm, head dipping back to your thighs and lips ghosting dangerously close.

“Can you guess what I’m considering now?” He questioned and placed a soft kiss to the hem of your panties before pulling your legs further apart from a simple tug of his fingers that slipped down beneath you. Spencer’s breath was hot and he licked a thick strip up and over your clothed cunt, relishing with a smack of his lips. You writhed and sighed, fingers hesitant to undo the last few buttons.

“Please.” Your voice was quiet and you felt the air of his chuckle swirl around your core.

“Can you guess what I’m considering now, doctor?” Spencer repeated himself again with an exaggerated punctuation and you nodded deftly, the only thing your body could think to do other than ooze with arousal. You let your head rest back on the chair, the task of your buttons completed and your hands rested over your stomach. You heard the snapping of his fingers, the absence of his hands on your skin but instead tugging your panties down instead of touching you. The snapping made you look down at him where he was already watching you on his knees and with almost no readable expression on his face. “I want you to look at me and compare this to your thoughts.”

You weren’t sure when your panties were completely removed but they were and you were now laid mostly bare, your client placing one of your legs over his shoulder and kitten-licking his way around you. “You can look at me, can’t you?”

“Y-Yes. Mmmhmm.” You nodded and used your elbows to keep your view clear, your vision trained on him as his licks became shorter, slower and eventually right where you wanted them.

“Clever girl.” His voice was muffled as he licked his way through your folds, brandishing your click with the flare of his tongue and making you whine each time. “I’ll know if you don’t look, doctor.” He warned before digging in. Spencer licked deep enough that you could feel it, your head spinning each time his nose brushed against the most pleasurable point of your body. The noises he made sent you reeling and panting. He was enjoying it, lapping you up with enthusiasm. Each groan drove deep into your body, into your bones and made your skin prickle.

“Spencer-!” Your voice caught as he worked intrinsically against you, the hold of his hand sliding down the leg that now rested on his shoulder, fingers trailing from the front to the back and one slender digit found its way inside and you cried out a strangled moan at the intrusion.

“You can take more.” He informed, another finger joining in the warmth. “You’re so fucking wet, doctor!” Spencer said quietly before tonguing and sucking at your clit as though you were melting right in front of him. “This all for me?” He asked between laps. His fingers curled within you, moving slowly back and forth in a fashion you could only describe as leisurely. The smacks of his lips and tongue only furthered your pleasure and you felt sure that your elbows would give out. As Spencer worked with devotion, your leg on his shoulder pinned him closer to you, your hips grinding slightly against his face and your fingers gripped at the leather they rested atop. With his fingers building a rhythm, his mouth slurping and canting at your core, you couldn’t help but notice the lack of contact from his other hand. It was nowhere to be found until you managed to tear our eyes away from the flashes of tongue. Spencer was touching himself whilst touching you and the sight had you insatiable. A particular moan that came from him had you sobbing quietly,

“Spencer, plea-ah! Fuck, keep going-” You mewled.

“You’ll finish when I finish.” Spencer said but continued to pump his fingers at a growing pace, tongue flickering and his hand working steadily on himself. You can’t contain the moans, you can feel your core tightening, your legs prepared to clench around his head like a vice.

“Don’t stop!” You breathe, your hips bucking and you could feel the distinct shift of his mouth. A grin. It sent you so very close. His fingers were dripping, you could feel the never-ending flow of your slick teamed with his mouth and Spencer let out a jarring grunt, “Spencer, fuck- I’m close!”

The words made him stop, violently removing his fingers and leaving you hollow, throbbing and desperate for more. His mouth gave one final suck of your clit and he pushed back from between your legs to stand and drop his own pants. “Move.” He commanded and you did just that. When you stood up, your legs were weak, you resented him partially for leaving you so close and he knew that. As though in a dance, you traded places, your eyes never leaving his, heady with desire for the rest of him. When he took the seat, his fist continued to pump at his cock, the pleasure evident from his own parted and glazed lips and you weren’t quite sure you were prepared. With his wet fingers, he beckoned to you. “Let’s go.” Spencer encouraged as though on a time-constraint and you did just as he asked.

With your legs on either side of him, your breasts pressed against his body, he removed his hand from himself in order to palm at your breasts, teasingly at first and then toughening after you were instructed to “open” once more. There was nothing else you could do than comply and your lips opened slowly. Too slowly. His wet fingers dragged over your lips before pushing their way in and resting at the second knuckle and your mouth enclosed on his fingers. “Thatt’a girl.” He mused and teased at your nipple with his thumb. It made your eyes close, the electric-pleasure halting you in your tracks and your suckling at his fingers ceased. You could feel the tip of him brush against your cunt, eagerly awaiting his next instruction. You tried to hold back but ended up slowly and surely lowering yourself just enough to gain the friction you required. “So, you do think about me?” Spencer asked and with his fingers in your mouth and your cheeks hollow, you nodded. His hand tugged down from your bra, fingers catching at the rim of the cup and snapping back against your skin and making you freeze. You felt the trail of him down over your ribs, destined to touch you. “Hop on, doctor.” He said breathily.

You were nothing if not obedient by now and you teased yourself a little more to make up for the loss of your orgasm. Your eyes opened and you watched him- Spencer was enamoured by the way your mouth worked on his fingers, tasting the sweetness of yourself and you started to move down slowly, his tip stretching just enough for you to hold his fingers in your teeth and pant. His lips fell open more, allowing you the time to adjust and take him inch by inch. The hot stretch was intoxicating and you settled on top of him with a whine. Spencer removed his fingers from your mouth and his hands held you tightly. You were aware of how full you were, of how much he would knock against you when you decided to move. “You can take me.” He reassured you.

Steadily, with your forehead clocking onto his, your hips started to move. Slow at first, finding your centre and reveling in the thickness and fullness that made you gasp with each fragment of movement. You lifted yourself and dropped yourself carefully, his tip pushing deep against your cervix and you felt him start to work on your clit. Fingers unable to gain any purchase due to the sheer wetness you had created. “Fuck, you’re so tight f’me!” Spencer groaned but you retorted, “You’re bigger than I’m used to, Spencer!” With a squeal, you settled against him, moving back and forth instead of up and down where he could hit that mouth-watering spot over and over. Your cries made him moan, his hand on your hip so tight and sharp but it only added to the experience. The grip he had on your skin gestured for you to move more, tugging up, signalling he wanted to feel you rise and fall. The feeling of being stretched and played with in tandem had you incredibly close, oh, so incredibly quickly. Paired with his hot breath that skated down your chest and over your breasts, the only thing you managed to do was weakly grind up and down. “That’s it.” Spencer nodded, his lips now deftly open and the odd groan came from deep within his throat. “Ohhh, good-girl! More.” He instructed, helping lift and drop you with the hold on your skin.

After a while of finding your feet, the cacophony of pleasure rang through your office. Once certain you knew exactly how he wanted you to move, Spencer’s hand felt its way across your back, grappling with the touch of you and you bounced steadily. His curses were music to your ears, his fingers increasing quickly against you and you were fit to burst. You could feel yourself throb and twitch, the hot coil grinding tighter and tighter as Spencer relentlessly fucked over your clit with his fingers. Your hand tugged at his hair for leverage, squealing and whining as he helped in fucking up into you with even more wonderful moans. “Oh, fuck!” You whimpered at the speed he had chosen, the friction he was causing and you were close. So fucking close you could taste it.

“You want to cum?” Spencer asked and took one hand from his hair, guiding it down between your bodies before completely enveloping you in his hold, “Work for it.”

You had to. Your fingers replaced his, his arms around your body tight enough to crush as he moved up into you feverishly. “I’m want to cum, fuck-!” You panted into him, “l-let me cum!” You winced and sent him off on another long groan, “Cum. I want to feel you fucking cum on my cock, doctor!” He commanded and with your fingers moving quickly, a heavy sigh from him sent you over. You spasmed, moaning and wailing his name but your fingers pushing you through it, his cock forcing into you as you clenched with a shudder and your head fell into the crook of his neck with sobs spilling down onto his shirt. Spencer’s thrusts never faltered, however. “You can take another!” He decided and unwrapped one arm to bring your face to his, pleasure taking over his lips, his eyes, everywhere, he looked completely bewitched. “One more, my clever-girl. Just one more.” “I can’t-” You choked with your hand going slack between you.

You weren’t sure how, but he managed to take you to the desk, landing you down with a slow and achingly long drive into you. When did he get rid of his pants? You didn’t remember. Spencer pulled himself from you with abandon and stood you up, “Move.” He commanded and turned you with a flick of your shoulder and with your back to him and stars in your eyes, you felt the stiff wetness of his cock tease between your folds as his hand easily bent you over. You were jelly at this point, prepared to go wherever and however he wanted. Spencer didn’t give any time for adjustments on this go-around. He was quick to slam deep into you, your hands grasping whatever they could on your desk to steady yourself as he pounded deep and quickly with his hands grabbing at your hips and giving him stability. “You’re taking me so well!” He panted against you, everything becoming too much but somehow not enough. Your breasts brushed over pens and papers and your hand finally grappled on to the edge of the desk as Spencer laid you out, “So fucking good!” He moaned and with each snap of his hips, he dragged you closer and closer to that deliciously familiar edge. You gagged and choked and moaned and whined each time his tip burgeoned against you until his thrusts became erratic, infrequent, “Cum on my cock, doctor! Fuck, I-” Spencer panted and he gave three deep and bruising thrusts before stilling and grunting a weak attempt of your name. He was white-knuckling your hips and as he spilled hotly into you, and you cried out once more, a final strained cry and you started to drip down your thigh. As you moved wave after wave through your climax, you felt the throb of Spencer, deep and hot against that perfect spot that had your knees buckling and shaking. For good measure, he continued to pull out and drive back in, all the while he muttered “you did so fucking good!” and variations of “good-girl, clever-girl!” in much softer, breathier tones. With each drawback, he spilled a little bit more down your thighs, dripping and mingling with your own fluids until eventually, he was gone entirely.

You tried to piece yourself back together, exposed and weak but completely high on the feeling of your client. The clarity dawned on you. You listened to the ruffle of clothing, the jangle of a belt and quick-snap of a zipper. “I won’t pay you.” Spencer spoke as he placed your panties that had been cast aside now on your desk by your hand, “That’s prostitution.”

Your voice trembled, body close to convulsing from everything that happened. “Spencer-”

“This will be our last session, doctor.” He said, his hand leaving the panties to gently lift your chin before he pulled away and headed for the door. “Our time ran over. Sorry to keep you.” Spencer informed in a polite voice before closing the office door behind him.

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