#not of anything in particular that's just been the vibe this week
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zzztlk · 9 months ago
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Guys should I be chill today or die of fright
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coveredinsun · 10 months ago
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i’ve seen gimleaf fics where they each try to find out how to court by the other’s traditions. and i love those, so i think they ought to be taken a step further. and i think the way to do that would be, naturally, to make bagginshield real. allow me to explain why. ahem. after the ring is destroyed, girlfailure legolas spends two weeks poring over The Ancient Texts and stressing because his one (1) friend who WOULD help him (that’s aragorn) knows jack shit about dwarves beyond the surface (no pun intended) (well gandalf knows things but gandalf is a bitch) (he would just smile at legolas knowingly and wish him good luck instead of giving him answers).
so alas, girlfailure “shit tier ass elf” legolas is left to like, idk, sulk or something in the garden he starts at the Bestie Residence in minas tirith. and after like 2 days sam’s had enough he’s like “dude your vibes are upsetting the plants.” and legolas is like “my bad bro. it just seems i know nothing about dwarves which i probably should’ve thought about before, by elf standards, getting hitched in vegas.” and sam is like “oh dwarves? just ask mister frodo ^_^ he knows tons about dwarves!” and legolas is like “what the shit? him in particular? why does he anything about dwarves?” and sam leans in reaaaalllllll close and whispers behind his hand, “well you see mister elf, mister legolas, sir, there’s always been a very healthy amount of rumors that go around in the shire about mister frodo’s uncle, mister bilbo, and the letters he used to exchange with a certain king under the mountain.” and legolas, who was THERE, is like
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multifandomme · 2 months ago
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A Dangerous Game
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Summary: Natasha is forced to admit that her feelings for you, an escort, are far more than transactional.
Genre: Smut, (mommy kink, power dynamics, exhibitionism vibes, semi-public sex, pet names, praise kink, light degrading, strap ons, fingering), not suitable for minors.
Word Count: 3k.
A/N: This is a gift for @ionlylikemarvelforthewomen as it's her favourite fic.
This piece is for day 7 of kinktober under the 'semi-public sex' prompt. This is a new and modified version of a fic I wrote in 2022.
More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.
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“You’re so tense.”
A brief silence engulfed the lavish hotel room, your adept fingers digging further into the canyon that separated Natasha’s shoulder blades, softened grunts escaping her.
“Yeah,” she scoffed, her expression disgruntled due to the pain that materialised from your attempt at reducing the knots that hardened her muscles. “That’s not the only place.”
Natasha sighed loudly as you released her from your grasp, jogging her shoulders to assure that you had been steadfast in your endeavours. Over the last few months, Natasha’s visits had fluctuated to the point of concern, appearing at this same hotel room more than thrice a week. 
You couldn’t complain, Natasha a model client, respectful, obedient and left your pockets brimming with wads of cash. Knowing so little about her didn’t help stymie your overriding worry for her and for yourself, a bizarre kind of comfort surrounding you whenever her presence was near. You could not place the feeling, nor begin to describe it, though you did know that whatever it was that you had felt could only spell danger, territories that were better left unexplored.
“You know, you should probably find a better outlet than this,” you advised, the compassion that brimmed in your voice soon passed off as a mindless suggestion. “There’s only so much I can do for you, Natasha.”
Natasha surged upwards, swiftly abandoning her prior position perched on the edge of the bed, the sound of her kissing her teeth in irritation echoing out into the expansiveness of the room. The topic always seemed to incite inflammation, though you were all too wary of becoming too intertwined with a client, knowing the hardships that arose from personal experience.
You had your rules and at first, adhering to them provided no issue, though as the time passed and the frequency of your meetings grew, so did the temptation to shirk the consequences. Thus far, only two rules had withstood the test of time: no personal information that exceeded necessity and no visible markings left behind. 
Even with such boundaries in place, Natasha was undeterred, resolute in her pursuit of abandoning the latter. And when the throes of pleasure engulfed her in her entirety, her mind and desires unencumbered, she would beg, plead, do anything to convince you to reconsider your judgement. You had yet to relinquish, though you feared that one day she would reign victorious and break you, at times, you secretly hoped that she would.
“What I want is for you to do your job," she flared, frustratedly, "that is what I pay for, no?"
The smart remark almost triggered the emergence of a chuckle from you, profoundly amused by her ability to implement avoidance tactics whenever this particular topic was called into question. Instead of permitting her the delusion of her ardent denial, you decided to probe further in the hopes of collapsing her walls.
In an effortless manoeuvre, the black silk robe that shrouded your lingerie from view disintegrated into a velvety pool at your feet, Natasha’s gaze possessed with immediacy as you strutted towards her.
“Are you certain that’s all you want?” You interrogated, sultrily, your voice like honey as you attempted to distract her from the daring nature of the question. “I see the way you look at me. This isn’t just a fuck for you and you know it.”
Tenderly, you reached out to trail the soft skin of her cheek with your thumb, the gesture impeded as Natasha batted you away with intent, her guardedness rebuilding itself before you. Without a word, she travelled to the furthest corner of the room, her attention redirected to the cityscapes that lay beyond the window. An audible sigh exuded and you knew that your prodding had instilled a festering sense of doubt inside of her. 
“So what if it is more?” Natasha challenged, bluntly, the words falling from her lips as if her inner monologue had accidentally blurted its way out of her mouth, unchecked. “I know what I’m doing,” she assured, though the flickering of her eyes conveyed a distinct uncertainty, as if her lips were speaking of a truth she inherently knew she could not uphold.
The last sentence tugged a quirk from your eyebrows, a smug smile plastering itself across your face as you sauntered over, your lingerie-clad form shadowing hers from behind. Instantly, her breath hitched and the boldness that she donned only seconds prior seemed to ebb away until it had dissipated completely. Your smirk seared into the side of her neck as you attacked her pulse point with softened kisses, delicately as to activate the docility that bubbled just below the surface. 
“It’s a dangerous game that you’re playing,” you purred, sexily, your fingers creeping down to cup at her pussy, Natasha’s body tensing in surprise until she surrendered to the glimmer of pleasure that it delivered.
Natasha gasped softly, her legs shifting with heightened impatience as her thighs clamped firmly around your hand to attain further friction.
“I like dangerous games,” Natasha breathed, weakly, and you could tell from the way in which she spoke that her eyes were tight shut, a pliable state beginning its activation.
“Oh, I know, baby,” you whispered, your fingers abandoning her pussy to make quick work of her breasts, the light patronisation in your tone causing her to groan aloud. “But they’re not so fun when you lose, hm?"
“I’ll do whatever you ask of me. I’ll be so good for you.”
“Kneel,” you barked, authoritatively, pleased to discover her immediate compliance, dropping to the floor without a protest nor a sound.
Natasha’s obedience could not be faulted, revelling in the way she stared intently, her beautiful green eyes glazed over as she awaited your instruction. She would ask and beseech to be debased, which often led you to wondering what she was like in her day to day life, wondered what had shaped her into the quaking mess below you. 
“Good girl,” you praised, earnestly, a hand ruffling absentmindedly through her silky locks.
“Thank you, Mommy” Natasha blushed, a feeble smile playing on her lips as her eyes averted to the floor below, a slight glint of  apprehension filling her.
“Let’s see that pretty face of yours, hm?”
Orbs of serpentine raised to meet yours, her beauty undeniable as it captivated you with no means of escape. Delicately, you thumbed the apples of her cheeks, noting how a rosy hue began to appear. The deft touches allowed no prior warning as to what would occur next, though Natasha knew, her eyes tight shut as your palm thrashed against her cheek. Scarlet tinged her cheeks with vigour, adrenaline coursing through Natasha’s veins as she simpered, devoid of thought.
“Thank you, Mommy,” she beamed, dumbly as she excitedly braced for another wrecking impact.
But, you had other plans for her.
“Open that pretty mouth for me, angel,” you instructed, flatly, a hum of approval exiting from you as she promptly abided. “I think it’s time that Mommy put it to good use, hm?”
Natasha inwardly ascended at the idea, nodding avidly with her jaw widening at your request, her tongue slipping out from her mouth. She loved to be at your disposal and her features shone with enthralment.
Roughly, you stuffed two digits into her mouth and hummed in extolment as Natasha laved them generously with saliva, swirling her tongue with passion. Her pink lips blossomed into a deep shade of crimson, swollen below her valiant endeavours. The enthusiasm dripped from her, spurring you on as you pushed in further, a spark of bewilderment flecking her stare.
“Such a good girl,” you cooed, retracting your fingers to find a string of saliva dangling, momentarily retaining connection until it fell away.
“Thank you, Mommy,” Natasha enthused, her teeth peeking out to nip softly at her lips, her appetite noticeable, burgeoning. 
“Is someone getting needy already?” You probed, knowingly, Natasha’s face flushing with sheer humiliation as she pried her eyes from you in aversion. “Tell Mommy what it is that you want.”
A faltering gulp sounded, a pause of silence prevailing until you drew her chin upward and subsequently forced her into meeting your eye line. 
“I want you to fuck me, Mommy,” Natasha divulged, shyly, her blush all but darkening as the words exited her lips. “I want you to take me where everybody can see.”
“What a filthy little slut,” you taunted, unable to bite away the smirk that had subconsciously upturned your lips, more so when you had caught Natasha in a state of utter transfixion, taken by the large windows.
The redhead’s pupils visibly dilated as the fantasies flooded in her mind, robbing her of coherence as she imagined people staring up from the city below and gawking at her nudity, studying her. Unknowingly, a desperate mewl fell from her mouth, her arousal beginning to seep against the material of her underwear.
“Take off your clothes and face the window for Mommy, princess,” you purred, the sound of your voice able to coax her from her state of entrancement. “Don’t make me wait.”
“Yes, Mommy.”
The eruption of hasty movement behind you signalled Natasha’s expeditious compliance with your request, barely a minute having gone by before she quietly reappeared, her exquisite form unveiled, bare. Your mouth salivated profusely at the image of her, clearing your throat as a means of regaining the concentration that had been briefly stolen from you. 
The remnants of sunset light projecting through the window seemed to encompass her physique in gold, her irises boasting a milder green as she twisted to regard you, praying that you would sate her limitless hunger.
Cautiously, you approached, slowly as if you were stalking prey, only Natasha wanted to be captured, wanted to be devoured with carnal desire. Again, you found your place behind her, the soft silhouette of your black lingerie firmly pressing up against her. Natasha’s nakedness allowed for effortless access, taking her breasts into your hands as you played roughly with them. 
Her nipples stiffened instantaneously, perhaps furthered by the slight plummet in temperature her lack of clothing had incited. But she was breathtaking, her head relaxing backwards to bruise against your clavicle, her lips in fatally close proximities.
“It feels so good, Mommy,” she complimented, despite the shakiness of her breath, her eyes settling to a close. “I want more of you, I need it. 
The encouragement that she had offered was not lost on you, and only invigorated you with a heightened sense of accomplishment. Your hand trailed downwards, snake-like, the obstruction of her underwear no longer stymying your efforts as you made immediate contact with her delicate flesh. 
What had greeted you had racked you with genuine surprise, her arousal leaking languidly as you gathered it amongst your digits. Natasha sighed in annoyance as you quickly retreated from her, though her eyes became instantly restored with anticipation when you dangled the glistening fingers before her mouth.
“You’re dripping, princess,” you whispered as you sank your fingers into her mouth to be cleaned. “What a desperate little slut and all for me.”
Natasha cried out in response, the sound ebbing out into a lustful moan the minute your hand returned to where she needed it the most. She bucked sporadically, the volume of her protests only intensifying as you continued to prolong her suffering, rejoicing in it. 
“Please, Mommy,” she pleaded, her voice no louder than a softened whisper, her energy dwindling along with her patience. “I need you inside of me.”
Her pitiful pleas rang out like music to your ears, your free hand wrapping around her from behind to secure itself around her throat. Fixed in place, Natasha’s motion was thwarted, every trace of control stolen from her. A frenzied jolt reverberated through her as she felt you align your fingers against her pussy, an all-encompassing tremor claiming her when you finally slipped inside. 
As you thrust steadily inside of her, you scattered her porcelain neck with pecks, occasionally delivering an aimless bite as she panted. The lewd sounds that emitted as your fingers buried inside of her filled the vicinity, echoing, your addiction to her only reaching new heights. And just when you suspected that Natasha was approaching an orgasm, you removed all contact from her.
“Bend over for me, angel,” you insisted, a devious expression lurking upon your features. “Let Mommy see that pretty pussy of yours.”
Natasha obliged, her cheeks hued scarlet, palms pressed to the glass of the window as she presented her exposed pussy to you. Arousal splayed the area around it, fluttering as it clenched around the absence of your fingers. The woman groaned exasperatedly as you prodded her from behind, a probing digit stuffing itself inside of her just to feel the way she constricted desperately around it. She wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer, you knew that.
“Do you want to cum, princess?” You asked, mockingly, the evidence staring you in the face as she quivered lightly, her face disgruntled in displeasure at being denied. 
“Yes, Mommy,” she sobbed out, her head knocking against the glass, her shallow breaths tainting its clarity with translucent condensation. “Please, please.”
Hastily, you raced to collect her favourite toy but not before landing a quick slap against her ass, earning a squeal from Natasha. In the silence, Natasha could hear the sound of you securing the harness around you, her eyes peering around from her position as she stole a sneaky preview. You could almost see her pushing up to her tiptoes in preparation, her breasts squashed against the window for all to see. Her zeal was unrivalled.
“Aren’t you a good girl?” You praised, noticing the way she had modified her position, your hands ghosting her sides until they settled in firmly against her hipbones. 
“Yes Mommy,” Natasha acceded, delightedly, her palms spread as she gripped the window with a harsher force, readying for what was inevitable. “I’m your good girl.”
The tip of your strap on slid against her pussy as you teased her, before its entire length disappeared into her warmth. Natasha collapsed forward, saved only by the sturdiness of her arms as her breasts rocked methodically against the glass. You held her in place with an unyielding grip around the back of her neck, erratic breaths of oxygen spring from her as she adjusted to the intrusion, delighted in the sensations that it activated. 
“Oh, mhm,” Natasha moaned, shamelessly, the volume exceeding anything you had procured from her to date as she assisted you in rutting against the toy, taking it deeper than you had thought possible.
“You like that, princess?” You growled, breathlessly, tightening your grasp upon her until a brute force incurred. “Do you like it when Mommy fucks you like a whore?”
“Yes, Mommy, oh, fuck-”
With Natasha’s fiery locks wound around your fingers for leverage, you forced her closer, her body solidly against you. A wandering hand sought the apex of her thighs, pinching and rubbing at her clit as she began to convulse in your arms. 
“That’s it angel,” you encouraged, zealously.,“cum for Mommy.”
Natasha craned until her lips ghosted yours, intent on overstepping the boundaries and willing you into a kiss. For once, you did not possess the self-control to deny her, did not want to. She was angelic, the repercussions pushed so far into the back of your mind that they ceased to exist. So, you surrendered to the gravitational pull, claiming her lips as she jolted, her words stifled by your mouth as she unraveled. 
Natasha kissed with undying passion, the flames felt as soon as the contact was made. Her tongue infiltrated your mouth, sharp teeth tugging at your bottom lip as her moans were breathed into you. Abruptly, she broke the connection, staring into your eyes with an expression you could not quite fathom. 
“I like you,” Natasha blurted, her breathing still uneven, though her eyes were more alert than you had ever witnessed as they burned holes into your own, unyielding.
The tension hung in the air like thick cloud cover, an unnerving quiet whipping up and taking you under as you pondered your response to her confession. Toying with her first was always the more enjoyable option and thus, you decided to do just that.
“You like the way I fuck you,” you corrected, feigning seriousness, your gaze narrowing in order to convince her of the facade. “There’s a difference, Natasha.”
“If you don’t feel the same,” Natasha began, moving to collect her clothes from the bed, “then just say that.”
Laughter rumbled inside of you, unable to be stifled as it burst out from your throat, a hand covering your mouth to no avail. Natasha merely glared at you with fury unbridled, dejected, hurt. 
“Why are you laughing?”
You settled upon the edge of the bed, observing as Natasha willed herself into a state of fluster.
“Why don’t you take a look in the mirror, princess,” you suggested, the unexpected segue enough to pique Natasha’s curiosity, though she was still highly perplexed by the sudden redirection.
“I know I look a mess, I-”
“No,” you interjected, guiding her to the full-length mirror beside the bed and studying her features as the situation slowly ebbed out into clarity. “Look.”
Natasha stared mindlessly for a moment, her eyes dulled until she finally caught sight of what you were attempting to unearth. Her hands flew up to survey the skin of her neck, purple little bruises decorating the previously pale skin.
“You broke the rule,” Natasha gushed, wide-eyed, confused. “You marked me.”
You nodded, knowingly as you pulled her to take refuge on your lap. Her mouth was still lightly agape in shock, burning questions flocking to her mind.
“You… don’t mark clients,” Natasha remembered, the words exiting her as more of a question, as if she was confirming your knowledge of its sentiment.
A beam plastered itself upon your face, Natasha’s naivety bringing a warmth that seemed to persist. In that moment, everything seemed to fall into order, unable to take your eyes away from the ethereality of the woman in front of you. Softly, you pressed your lips against hers, hoping that the act would be enough to convey the words that you had struggled to find.
“I know,” you mused, “but I think it’s time that we both admit that we’re more than that, hm?”
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 11 months ago
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“Are you gonna be a good girl?” || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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Summary: Coryo's friends have always been and probably will always be condescending towards you. When you refuse to stay home when he invites them over for dinner, you become aware of the intricate control that Coriolanus has skillfully woven around you, highlighting a sense of submission in your actions.
Warnings: reader smoking, age gap (r is 18 and Coryo is 25), manipulative, controlling, toxic!coryo, power dynamic, condescending behaviour,
Wc: 740
A/n: crap summary but i kinda got inspired by Priscilla and I lowkey imagined cailee as Priscilla in this but u don’t have to. I LOVE THIS MOVIE SM 😭 also pretend Arachne is still alive.
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"I want to visit my family later today, Coryo," you mention, casually flicking the ashes from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. Coryo looks up from his newspaper, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”
"I want to see my family later today," you repeat, "I haven’t seen them in weeks." The sentiment is laced with a tinge of longing. With a cigarette delicately held between meticulously manicured nails, your painted lips articulate the words, the smoke swirling into the air.
A hush settles in the air until Coryo’s voice breaks the silence, his tone void of emotion. “You can’t. Not today,” he asserts, his attention returning to the newspaper. Your eyes fixate on him. “And why not?” You try not to raise your voice, but a hint of urgency slips through.
"Because, sweetheart, we have guests coming over for dinner." You roll your eyes. "And I want you here, yes?" he adds, pointing to you. “Who’s coming?” Coriolanus sighs deeply, dismissing the question with, “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does matter. Who’s coming, Coryo?” Your tone grows more agitated. He casually shrugs, “Just a few of my friends, that’s all.” The harsh stubbing out of your cigarette emphasizes your displeasure.
"Your friends?" you question, annoyance evident in your tone. Sensing your irritation, he casually discards his newspaper to the side. “Yes, does that bother you?” he spat in response, his words carrying a tinge of defiance.
You let out an exasperated laugh, “You know how I dislike your friends, Coryo. They’re horrible to me!” You grip the armchair tightly, leaning towards him. You can practically feel the irritation radiating off you.
Coriolanus dismissively rolls his eyes. “Please. They’re not horrible to you. You’re being dramatic—” The room is charged with tension as your hand forcefully slams on the table. “Yes. They are. They belittle me, Coryo!” The weight of your words hangs in the air, your chest heaving from the emotional intensity of the outburst.
It's true. Whenever you're around Coriolanus' friends, it's hard not to notice the condescending vibe they throw your way, the snarky comments about anything and everything about you.
The memory of your wedding day remains vivid in your mind, etched with indelible images of raised eyebrows and skeptical glances from all of Snow's friends as you walked down the aisle. The collective gaze left you with a lingering sense of embarrassment. You were only 17, and he was 24.
You were well aware of the swarm of thoughts buzzing through their minds every time they saw you with Coriolanus. According to them, you were too young, too naive, too quiet, and perhaps even too unintelligent to hold the title of First Lady.
The unsolicited opinions seemed to echo a common sentiment: Coriolanus should have chosen someone closer to his age, someone who shared more similarities with him.
Conversations with his friends were always filled with subtly belittling comments that Coryo either didn't notice or chose to ignore.
Arachne stood out as the harshest among them all. Her comments, in particular, were cutting and had a way of driving you out of the room, often leaving you with tears streaming down your face.
In their eyes, you were just weak. A wife who sat there and looked pretty. But you were more than that, you knew that, hell, even Coriolanus knew that, but he never spoke up.
"They just like to tease you. Don't be so sensitive," he scoffs, the nonchalance in his tone amplifying your frustration. You gnaw at your lips as Coriolanus rises with a sigh, leisurely stretching his neck before heading to the nearby table to pour himself a glass of alcohol.
"I don't want to be here," you whisper loud enough for him to hear you. "I want to see my family, Coryo," your voice trembling with the urgency of your plea. "You can't deny me of seeing my own family," you exclaimed, the words escaping your lips with an urgency that surprised even you.
His response was swift, harsh. He took hold of your chin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. "You are to stay here, do you hear me?" he commanded, his voice cutting through the air.
The forcefulness of his grip left you momentarily breathless. Your attempt to pull away was futile as his gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and expectation in his eyes. Tears welled up, blurring your vision as a wave of helplessness washed over you.
As your gaze meets his with glassy, doe-like eyes, Coriolanus can't help but be overcome with a sense of remorse. His hold gently eases, his fingers transitioning from your chin to delicately trace the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and stay, hm?" His voice was softer now. You swallow hard and you find yourself nodding, silently surrendering to the intricate web of control that Coriolanus deftly wove around you.
Coriolanus tenderly brushes away a stray tear that had dared to escape, his touch as soft as a fleeting whisper. Leaning in, he draws closer to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. The warmth of the kiss lingers for a brief moment, a delicate embrace, before he gently withdraws. "Now, go get ready," he says, his back turned to you as he pours himself another glass as you wordlessly leave.
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buckymorelikefuckme · 4 months ago
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what a wicked thing to do
vampire wanda maximoff x fem reader
words: 4.2k
warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** lesbian vampires yes GAWD, fantasy au, inaccurate historical au, smut, fingering, implied soulmates (?? kinda i guess), biting 👀, mention of blood, does this count as hurt/comfort? we shall see!! and uhhh it's kinda spooky ooky vibes but it's not really dark? i think. pls let me know if i missed anything!
a/n: listen..... i've already got spooky season in the brain and i really wanted to reshare this fic. i've edited it a little but i've also left the link to where i orphaned it on ao3 in the title if you prefer reading there~ any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged pls and thank ♡ xoxo
wanda maximoff masterlist || main masterlist
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It’s that time of year in between autumn and winter where it’s only getting colder and colder, no reprieve even during the sun’s highest point of the day. Part of you worries it’s a mistake to wander through the woods like this, especially so close to sunset.
But then you remember the briefest moment when you saw her, when your eyes met hers; it happened so quickly, but also felt as if time stopped. Something flashed in her gaze before she looked away and disappeared in the busy crowds of the village.
That moment, as brief as it was, leads you here. You hug your arms tighter to your torso, cursing the bitter wind whipping around you. Your dress had been a bright idea when you’d first thought of it. Now, you’re wondering why you thought such a plunging neckline would be smart, considering the seasonable chill in the air.
Although, you think with a flutter in your stomach, that’s not exactly true. You know exactly why you chose this dress.
There’s hardly any light left in the sky by now. You’re kicking yourself for getting lost in the woods, wondering if anyone would notice, or care, whether or not you return to the village. You have no family, no money, nothing tying you to anyone or anything. You work odd jobs to be able to make ends meet. The people knew of you, but you are sure they hardly concerned themselves with your well-being.
But then, when your gaze had met her own, you’d felt seen for the first time in ages. It was like she could see everything inside your mind, every ounce of longing and every bit of loneliness, even in the split second she held your stare. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since then. Nearly two weeks have passed, and you’d finally decided to find out if the stories that follow her hold any truth. They are quite colorful, full of fantasy and myth, surely decorated to sound more elaborate as the years go on. Fantasy and myth, perhaps, but one particular piece of information continues to remain the same.
She hasn’t seemed to age in the fifteen years she’s spent living near your village. Not one line or wrinkle to be seen on her pale skin. Not one gray hair on her head. Some of the elders even swear they'd seen her when they were children.
Her home is a mystery, one that stays that way out of fear. There is something about her eyes, some say, something off, not quite right. Because of this, no one has felt compelled enough to try finding her home.
At least, not until you.
You’re beginning to think you are truly lost, feeling hopeless, when you finally spot something in the distance. But just as relief washes through you, the rain starts. Each drop feels like sharp, stabbing pieces of ice landing on your exposed flesh, soaking into the thin fabric of your dress. It takes mere minutes for you to become drenched. Your dress is now clinging to your body uncomfortably, the cold even more biting than it already had been.
It comes into view, what you’d spotted several meters back, easier to make out. A looming castle breaks through the trees, windows lit with candles.
Your arms and feet are going numb, but you push through, stumbling your way to a cobblestone path that leads to tall, wooden doors. With a trembling hand, you raise the door knocker and bang it against the door as loud as you can manage, praying whoever is inside will hear.
Your wait is short lived, thankfully. The door creaks open loudly to reveal the very woman you’d been searching for. If she’s shocked to see you, she hides it well. She looks as regal as ever. A black dress hugs her lithe body, her hair perfectly brushed and styled. This close to her, you can see what the people mean. She looks ageless.
“E-excuse me, madam,” you begin, trying your best to keep your teeth from chattering. “I-I’m terribly lost and I d-don’t think I can find my w-way back to the village.”
The woman lets her eyes roam your shivering frame, lingering on your glistening chest for a second, then meets your pleading gaze.
“Of course. Please, do come in. I’m sure you’re cold.”
“Th-thank you,” you reply earnestly.
She steps aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze by.
“Think nothing of it,” she assures you. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, at least until the storm passes.”
As the door closes behind her, you take in as much of the space as possible. With it being nighttime, the candles can only do so much. For a castle, it is rather large, but it’s not quite as foreboding as you would have imagined. Though, you surmise, you hadn’t really known what to expect at all.
“Would you like something dry to change into?”
You whirl around, almost tripping over your feet as her voice registers, so close to your ear.
She smiles, amusement tickling the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps a cup of tea?”
Swallowing roughly, you nod, offering a smile of thanks in return.
“Very good. You should go sit by the fire to warm up while I get everything sorted.”
She points toward a room where you can see flickering light dancing off the walls. You nod again, letting your tired feet follow the promise of warmth. The closer you get to the large fireplace, the harder you shiver, goosebumps rising along your skin. You stand as close as you deem safe, hands held out to thaw them. For the second time, she sneaks up behind you.
“This is all I could manage to find.”
You gasp as you turn to face her. She’s still smiling as she holds up the proffered item of dry clothing.
“You frightened me,” you state dumbly, huffing a quiet laugh.
“I did not mean to,” she replies.
“It’s okay.” You glance at the clothes in her hand, a frown forming on your face. “A… dressing gown?”
She makes a sympathetic face. “It was all I could find,” she repeats.
Her eyes dip down to your chest again. They flash, just like in the village, but you’re sure it could have just been the fire reflecting in them. You look down to see what she’s staring at and heat rushes up your neck. Your nipples are clearly outlined against the wet fabric of your dress.
“Oh,” you murmur as you lift your arms to cover yourself.
She clears her throat delicately. “Take this. You’ll get sick if you keep your wet clothes on.” She pointedly holds the dressing gown out to you again until you gingerly take it. “I’ll go get the kettle started while you change.”
“Thank you,” you return quietly.
When you’re sure she’s gone, you undress as quickly as you can, more shivers wracking your frame as you stand naked in her drawing room for a few seconds before pulling on the silk dressing gown, tying it securely around your waist.
While you wait you decide to get a better look of the room. A few paintings hang on the dark walls, but mostly they’re covered with floor to ceiling shelves and stuffed to the brim with books. You take notice of a few spots where the dust hasn’t seemed to settle in front of them, figuring those must be her favorites. A plush chaise sits in the center of the room with two chairs on either side, atop an ornate rug that rests on most of the floor. There are a couple small tables between the chaise and chairs with candelabras on them, and a wide, lower table in front of them. You spot a desk by the only window in the room.
There’s nothing particularly personal about the space. It almost feels as if she’s newly moved in. But you know that can’t be true, especially since so many people in the village have seen her visit town for years now.
A piece of parchment on the desk catches your eye. You debate over whether or not you should let your curiosity get the better of you, your feet slowly carrying you over to where the paper lay. There’s writing on the top piece, and you get as far as the addressed “Brother,” but then hear her round the corner and quickly back away.
“I wasn’t sure if you took cream and sugar, so I brought them just in case,” she tells you, setting a silver tray on the low-lying table that held the teapot and teacups.
You walk over as she pours the tea into both cups. You pick one up and carefully drop two lumps of sugar into yours, stirring it with your teaspoon until you’re satisfied it’s melted. A careful sip as you sit down and you hum happily.
“Better?” she asks, smiling and taking a sip of her own tea, sitting beside you.
It occurs to you suddenly that you hadn’t asked for introductions. You scold yourself internally, knowing you had better etiquette than that.
“I must apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I never introduced myself,” you say, then offer your name. “And what is yours, madam?”
“You may call me Wanda,” she replies.
“Well, I owe you a great deal for helping me, Wanda. I cannot thank you enough.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Please, there is no need. I’m glad I was here and that you aren’t in danger of freezing to death.”
“As am I,” you respond, laughing lightly.
Silence settles between you. Your mind whirls with hundreds of questions, but you don’t know where to begin. Your plan to find her only consisted of just that— finding her. Now that you’re here, you aren’t quite sure what to do. Or say, for that matter.
You can feel her eyes observing you like a caress. You struggle not to squirm or shiver, though you are no longer cold. No, there is no chill clinging to your bones anymore. Her stare alone provides enough heat. You chance a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, but she catches it. She purses her lips to keep from smiling in amusement.
“So,” you blurt, cheeks pinking, “have you lived here long?”
You bite the inside of your cheek as soon as the words leave your mouth. Stupid, stupid girl.
Thankfully, Wanda laughs.
“Quite,” she says teasingly, like she’s letting you in on a joke.
You nod. “I see. Is it a family home?”
She tilts her head consideringly. “Of a sort.”
What is that supposed to mean? Miraculously, you don’t ask that question aloud.
“Do you… Do you live alone?”
You’re not sure why you ask. Perhaps it’s that you haven’t heard any other movement throughout the castle that indicated a waiting staff of some sort. Afterall, she was the one to fetch the tea.
“I do,” she says.
You don’t want to examine it too closely, but you’re positive you note a hint of longing in her tone.
“S’a lot of space for one person,” you muse in acknowledgment.
She nods. “Indeed. However, I’m sure I’ll find the right companion soon.”
You take another sip of your tea to avoid replying, but are not able to avoid meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes is something you’ve never seen directed at you. You’re hesitant to think it could be want, open desire. Not from a woman like her.
Wanda still cannot believe that you’d shown up at her door.
She’s spent months watching you from a distance, never allowing herself to be seen by you—not until she felt it was time. From the very first moment she caught sight of you, she knew. You are hers. Her mouth watered when the wind brought your scent to her. There was not a doubt in her mind about whether she would have you; she simply would.
She had waited, ever so patiently, watching you as you roamed the streets of the village. You didn’t seem to have very many acquaintances, if any at all, and you were always alone. Wanda quickly figured out that you were without a family as well.
Selfishly, she’d been happy about these facts.
Finally, Wanda allowed herself to meet your gaze. It was quick, but she knew her eyes flashed, knew that she piqued your curiosity. It would only be a matter of time.
After nearly two weeks had gone by, however, she had started to think it hadn’t worked. She’d planned on returning to town to purposefully cross your path again, but as luck would have it, you came to her. As soon as she heard the knock on her door, she smiled.
Now, as she sits next to you on the chaise, your skin glowing in the firelight, she finds it harder to maintain her control. This close, your scent is even more intoxicating. Wanda can tell that you’re curious about her. The questions you want to ask are swirling behind your eyes. And now that you’re here, she decides she’ll answer whatever you ask, give you anything you want.
You’ve gone quiet, though, so she does some prodding of her own.
“What were you doing out in the woods?” Dressed like that, blessedly, goes unsaid.
You shyly glance down at your lap. “I, uh, I like to take walks,” you mutter into your teacup as you go to take another sip.
Wanda hums. A plausible excuse, indeed. You carefully lean forward to set your cup and saucer on the table and when you sit back you move your hair over to one shoulder. Wanda’s eyes zero in on the pulsepoint of your neck. If she focuses hard enough, she can see your heartbeat throbbing beneath your skin. It makes her teeth itch, makes her control waver even more.
When she drags her gaze away from your neck, she finds you already observing her. Her desire is clearly reflected in your eyes and the feeling is heady.
“Are you warm now?” she wonders.
“Yes,” you whisper, your breathing picking up, making your breasts heave alluringly.
You’d go as far as saying you are overheating. The dressing gown, where you’d been unsure and embarrassed of being nude underneath it before, is now a blessing. Your body feels alight with an unseen, growing fire. Shifting on the chaise, you don’t notice the sleeve slip down your shoulder, only registering the air skimming across your collarbones. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel something cold on your bare arm.
Peering down reveals it to be Wanda’s hand carefully sliding the sleeve back up into place. Your brows pull together in a frown.
“Your hand…” you mumble, trailing off.
She lets it linger on your shoulder for a moment, then slowly traces down your arm, her thumb grazing the side of your breast. Your nipples tighten, thighs clenching together as you watch her fingers stop at your wrist. Though her touch is cold, it feels like a relief against the searing heat of your flesh. You peek at her through your lashes and find her expression to be one of complete hunger.
Feeling emboldened, you hold her stare as you shift to pull the sleeve down again.
Her lips lift on one side, her teeth glinting dangerously. “Are you sure of what you’re doing?” she asks.
You blink, faux innocence shifting behind your eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Wanda takes a deep, steadying breath, though it only helps in inhaling your scent more. She says your name. “Why do you think you are here?” The question catches you off guard. Wanda shifts even closer to you, watching your throat bob as you swallow. “We both know it isn’t because you accidentally got lost in the woods. You were out there with a purpose. What was it?”
You lick your lips, noticing her gaze immediately drop to them. It makes your heart pound in your chest.
“I don’t know,” you reply, unsure.
She leans in, her nose nearly touching yours. “You do,” she whispers, without doubt. “Why are you here?”
Your eyes flutter closed, head tilting back without you being aware of it, exposing your neck. You feel her presence mere centimeters away from you, her breath puffing out along the column of your throat.
“I… I felt drawn here. It feels like I was meant to be here,” you say, quiet, almost hoping she doesn’t hear you.
It feels ridiculous to say it out loud. It’s one thing to have that thought sit in the back of your mind where you could pretend it didn’t exist, but to admit it aloud is entirely different.
“With me?”
You shiver at her words, her lips having softly dragged across your skin. Helplessly, you nod.
“Are you afraid?”
That makes you frown, but you adamantly reply, “No.”
“Open your eyes,” she pleads.
You follow her instruction, wary, but gasp at what you see. Sharp fangs peek out from Wanda’s lips, her eyes so pale they’re almost white now. Though your heart continues to race, it’s not out of fear. It should scare you, it should send you running, but you find your hand slowly rising to carefully trace a finger down one of her fangs, amazed that she even lets you.
“You’re…” You start, meeting her patient gaze once more. “Beautiful,” you finish in a whisper, because she is. You go to reach for her face to stroke her cheek, but she lurches backward. In a blink, Wanda’s on the other side of the chaise. Disbelief paints her features.
“You think I’m… beautiful?”
“Of course,” you state plainly, brows furrowing. Wanda continues staring at you in wonder. “You said I was here for a reason.” Ironically, she’s now wary of you as you shuffle closer to her. “I know what that reason is now.”
“Which is?” she asks apprehensively.
“You,” you murmur, cupping her cheek. “I’m here for you.”
Wanda looks as if she’s scared to accept this, to hope for it to be real. You steal away those worries by leaning in to place a soft kiss to her lips. She inhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut, her cold hands gripping your wrist almost painfully. You give her a moment, kissing her forehead as she gathers her emotions, keeping her gaze down.
“Are you sure?”
Her voice cracks softly, but her grip on your wrist loosens as you move it. You lift her chin so she’s looking at you.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
She stares at your lips for a few seconds, and then, as your words sink in, they seem to send her into action. She surges forward and captures your lips, more sure, more eager than before. You respond in kind, pulling her as close as possible, sighing into her mouth.
You quickly find yourself on your back on the chaise, Wanda above you, bodies slotting perfectly into each other like lost puzzle pieces. You feel her hand slide down from where it was in your hair to graze along your sternum. Then her hand cups your breast, thumb swiping across your nipple, and you gasp. It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and Wanda takes it.
Her tongue slides against yours and you whine, clutching at her like she’s the only thing tethering you to this earth. It becomes so easy to let her settle between your thighs, to arch into her touch and slide your tongue in her mouth, delicately tracing over her fangs. Wanda shudders, grunting inelegantly before wrenching herself away, panting heavily into the space between you. You blindly chase after her, opening your eyes in confusion.
Wanda’s gaze is intent on your neck, full of desire. The weight of the moment hits you, then. What exactly it would mean if you give in to her. So, with full faith in your decision, you tilt your head ever so slightly and she goes perfectly still.
“Go ahead,” you encourage.
She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
You huff. “I do. I want you to do this.” You know she won’t look at you just yet, so you lace both your and her fingers together and squeeze hers as you continue. “I need you to do this.”
“If I do,” she starts, swallowing thickly, “I won’t be able to stop. You’ll end up like me.”
You duck your head to catch her stare. “And what’s wrong with that?”
She closes her eyes and falls silent for a moment. The weight of your words fall over the two of you like a winter blanket.
“I’ve waited so long,” she confesses, voice quiet, shaking and timid.
“For me?” you ask. She nods. “I’ve been looking for something, or someone, to make me feel whole all my life.” You use your free hand to stroke her cheek. Even with her eyes closed, she leans into you. “I’ve waited for you, too.”
When she finally looks at you, you know there’s no going back for either of you.
“It’s going to hurt,” she warns.
“That’s okay. It will only be temporary.”
She smiles then, slow and teasing. “I can ease the pain, you know.”
Her free hand tugs lightly on the ties holding your dressing gown closed, raising her eyebrows in silent question. You bite your lip and nod, shivering in anticipation. She undoes the careful bow you’d tied, easing it open and exposing your body to her hungry gaze.
If you felt heated before, you’re an inferno now. Her hands reverently map out every curve of your body. She leans down and plants a kiss above your belly button. It makes your stomach clench in want, but you make yourself lie there and take whatever she plans on giving you. Her kisses lead up your torso, until she’s eye level with your breasts, and before you can comprehend her movement, she’s taking one of your nipples into her mouth.
“God,” you whimper, head thrown back as you push your chest into her face.
“No,” Wanda giggles, “just me.”
You try to laugh, but it turns into a gasping moan when she pinches your other nipple between cold fingers. Your thighs attempt to close around her, yet it’s futile. Her free hand begins its descent down to the warm heat between your legs. Your hips buck into her touch, crying out when her fingers make contact with your clit.
“I’m going to do everything I can to make this feel good, okay? Let me take care of you.”
You nod quickly, your mouth going dry. When a single finger enters you, you forget how to breathe for a second, but then she’s sliding it out and back in, setting a steady rhythm, and you’re back to panting and whining. Only a few minutes later, though, you’re wriggling around, begging for more. She adds another finger and picks up the pace.
“Oh,” you gasp, your legs falling open wider.
Wanda buries her face in your neck, inhaling loudly, groaning. She licks across the skin there, nipping at you.
“Wanda,” you whimper.
“I know, my love,” she rasps. “You’re so close.”
Your hands have drifted above you, clutching at the pillows on the chaise, your hips moving in tandem with her fingers. Her thumb meets your clit, adding to the building warmth in your belly. It swells and swells, until finally, it has nowhere else to go and explodes within you.
You feel her teeth sink into your neck at the very same moment, and you can only yell brokenly into the air. Pain and pleasure war inside you, both white hot and searing, marrying themselves into a delicious and lethal combination. You can feel blood trickle down your throat, the same way you can still feel her fingers thrusting into you. It seems to never end and you grow limp beneath her, unable to handle the sensations flowing through you.
She finally slows, removing her teeth and licking over the wound. As her fingers slide free, she brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead with her clean hand.
“Sleep now,” she instructs, kissing you softly.
You can’t even attempt to argue, your body listening to her and promptly sending you into a deep slumber.
When you wake, before you even open your eyes, you’re aware of a few things.
To start, you’re no longer on the chaise. You’re on a luxurious bed, which is presumably Wanda’s. Your hearing is significantly better, as is your sense of smell. There’s a low thrum of energy coursing through your veins, like you’re on edge but don’t know why. But the more important thing you’re aware of is the feeling of eyes on you.
“I know you’re awake now.”
You crack open one eye and see Wanda smirking at you from the other end of the bed. You smile and sigh happily.
“How do you feel?” she asks.
You carefully sit up and stretch. You notice her ogling your still naked body and give her a smirk of your own. Shifting onto your knees, you crawl over the bed until you reach her and straddle her lap.
“Hungry,” you answer before grasping her face in your hands and attaching your mouth to hers.
With a force she hadn’t used before, she tosses you backward and is on top of you in a flash, a devilish smile on her tragically beautiful face.
“Good.”
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gladiatorcunt · 8 months ago
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summary: feyd rautha x emperor’s afab oldest child!reader
cw: feet stuff, piss kink, implied eventual knifeplay/blood play, cannabalism, arranged marriage, feyd being so weird but reader lowkey loves it, facesitting but the kind where feyd would beg you to break his neck, spanking/mild painplay, very likely ooc feyd since i haven’t seen part 2 yet, use of “princes” and “wife”, wedding hunt and black cum hcs taken from @valeskafics , reader doesn’t really know what’s going on but they’re vibing
wc: 1.4k
block & move on if uncomfortable !!
do not repost, translate, or give ai my work
kinktober masterlist
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Collapsing in relief has never been more appealing. You finally have a moment of respite after vigorous and exhausting wedding festivities, and you need to collect yourself. This marriage to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was only brought to your attention a week before it would take place.
Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind the man himself. It was just so sudden, is all. During any visits with his family, you had to be mindful of how you reacted to his cocky displays of ruthlessness and violence. Your father would have your head if he saw how tight you squeezed your thighs together or how much you panicked at the thought of leaving a puddle on your throne. Feyd always marked his departure with a cliche kiss to the back of your hand and a hissed promise that you couldn’t make out.
He would protect you at the very least if he didn’t love you. You’re not even sure that you love him, but this shameful crush could grow into something untamable if you lose your footing. Something… unbecoming of a member of the royal family. You wonder if it already has.
The wedding was as grand as could be, glittering decorations and finery followed by archaic rituals to please your in-laws. The Wedding Hunt in particular sent your heartbeat into overdrive, but the satisfaction on your betrothed’s face when he caught his “prize” was intoxicating. Feyd Rautha kisses like he kills, you were quick to discover, fiercely and uncaring of any blood that might be shed.
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You’re brought out of your reminiscing by your now husband closing the door to your room behind him. You only have another day with your family before you’re to leave for Giedi Prime. There has hardly been time to get to know the man you will lie beside for the rest of your life, until now.
“Wife.” He bluntly greets you, awkwardly nodding his head in an effort to maintain his “tough” image. You won’t tease him about the barest hint of blush on his cheekbones, but you treasure it nonetheless.
You humor him, “Husband.” Your nod mirrors his and you take a seat at the long table in the middle of the room after Feyd pulls a chair out for you.
This was the next part of the ritual, where the newly married couple must eat a meal that one partner made for the other. It sounds simple enough that you don’t think anything of it.
Feyd makes a gesture and your food is placed before you by one of your family’s servants. They look a bit queasy and green in the face but they’re gone before you can ask if they’re alright.
“I hope you like it, princess.” Feyd says with a barely there smirk, pointing to the… pie in front of you. “I cut down many people for it.”
You raise an eyebrow at that but bring your knife to take a slice of the pie anyway. Upon lifting the piece onto your plate, you notice eyeballs, flesh, tongues, and some sort of black liquid running throughout the filling. You freeze in place, not even meeting your husband’s eyes. One blue eye seems to twitch and the black substance makes a sick sound as you move it around with your fork.
“The other men who your father considered, my concubines….. I actually can’t tell you which of them are in that slice, but they are all there.” He whispers in your ear, having gotten up from his position opposite you to feed you himself.
You respect the ritual despite your urge to throw up, so you swallow what he gives you. He grins, swiping a thumb down to your throat to feel the food travel. He squeezes your cheeks when you’re done, and you open your mouth to show him that you ate it all.
“That’s my princess.” He condescendingly croons, bending down to run his tongue all over your face before standing up and pushing you to lie flat on the cold table. “But I'm afraid that it’s time for me to have my meal.”
Your elaborate wedding gown is slashed to shreds, the cool tip of his blade moving down your flesh until it reaches your lace covered mound. He taps the hilt of his weapon on your hood and unceremoniously tosses it on the floor.
You didn’t expect the reveal of your wedding night attire to be under such unorthodox circumstances, but can you say you expected any of this?
“A worthy bride with a body to match, thank you for this gift, your highness”. He says in a half joking manner, grinning with too many teeth as he runs his hands along the delicate material. He toys with the idea of cutting this little number to pieces too, but your holes are left conveniently exposed. Maybe he’s fallen too in love with it, he’s been in love with you since you met years ago anyway.
The lingerie is a custom designed piece littered with straps and sheer fabric that leave nothing to the imagination. Your tits are accentuated by a seashell-like pattern bra and there’s even a little black bow above your pussy. The frilly strips of material wrapped around your thighs do nothing to keep your curves contained and the tiny tulle skirt frames your ass beautifully.
Your husband drinks in the sight of you before pulling your ankles to rest on his shoulders. You watch in arousal and shock as he broadly licks the sole of your right foot. He groans unabashedly, nuzzling at your heel and then dipping his tongue in the spaces between your toes. You wiggle at the ticklish feeling but you don’t kick him away.
He really gets into it when he starts sucking your toes, bobbing his head and making sure you’re watching as curls his tongue around each one. His eyes roll back in pleasure once he reaches the last toe on your other foot, and drool trickles down your leg when he’s done getting acquainted with the taste of it. He presses a kiss to the top of each toe but then the weird softness is ruined by the bite he adorns your ankle with.
Feyd’s mouth makes a slick popping sound as he pulls away from your feet. You’re at a loss for words when he proceeds to lie down on the table beside you. He gropes your breast quickly and leans over to give you a surprisingly chaste peck. The look on his face is a smug one but his eyes say something unknown to you, soft and obsessive all at once. It’s as if he knows something you don’t.
“Now sit on my face, claim your new throne, princess.”
You don’t know how long he keeps you hostage there, your cunt soaking him as he devours you to the bone. He doesn’t let you become too relaxed, nipping your clit as he sees fit and clawing the skin of your ass. Eventually your gut aches and though at first you think you’re about to cum already, the second heartbeat in your clit feels different. You come to a horrifying realization that you need to relieve yourself.
“H-husband, what the fuck- I… I need to pee.” You’d rather be dead than doing what you are and saying what you are, but nature calls.
“Yes, that’s it.” He growls and digs his nails into your ass, jigging the globes in his hands before sharply slapping them. “Piss all over my face, get me wet with it like a good wife.”
The shriek you let out when you do just that is abhorrent. Your legs shake as you spray hot pee on your husband’s skin, the gold mixing with the white of your simultaneous orgasm as it drips down his body. You try to move off of Feyd but he tightens his grip on your ass and yanks you back down. The sensation of a hungry mouth desperately sucking the fluids from you drives you wild.
“You have…… fuck- y-you have to stop, hah- i’m going to break.” You sob.
He chuckles into your piss covered pussy and then pulls away to speak, “Then break, a wife of House Harkonnen doesn’t need to be put together.”
You think you hear him say something about using his blade on your body later, but that might just be your own perverted idea.
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awrkive · 1 year ago
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[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.
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you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)
WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)
WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)
NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️
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‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE
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You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.
Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.
You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.
It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.
When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.
That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.
Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?
You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!
Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.
Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.
"God."
As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.
"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.
Oh my god. You wanted to cry.
You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."
Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.
Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.
You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.
Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.
He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.
Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.
"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"
You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."
He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.
"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.
"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.
Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.
Ugh.
"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.
But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.
You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.
"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.
"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.
You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.
But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.
"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.
Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."
"Hm?"
"Can I suck your dick?"
"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.
"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.
So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.
"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.
"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.
"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.
You shrug. "Yeah, well."
You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.
"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.
"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.
"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.
"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.
"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."
"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.
"So…?"
You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.
"Okay, sure." You shrug.
"Fuck, you're the best."
This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.
You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.
"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.
Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."
You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.
"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.
"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."
You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.
Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.
He stops kissing you.
"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."
Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.
"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.
You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."
"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.
"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."
You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.
But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."
You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.
Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.
Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.
It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.
Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."
You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.
When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.
As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.
What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.
"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.
"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."
He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.
The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.
"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly
"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."
And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.
"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.
"Good girl."
And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.
"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.
"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.
Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.
Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?
"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."
You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.
"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.
And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.
So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.
When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.
"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.
He only let out a non-committal hum.
"Jungkook."
"Yes, baby?"
"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.
"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.
"Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.
"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."
You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.
Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."
"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."
Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."
"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.
"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."
You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?
"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"
Oh god, your essay. Right.
You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.
Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."
That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.
"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."
You think you'll start doing it more, too.
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all rights reserved © AWRKIVE , 2023
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sugaryplum · 4 months ago
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𓏲⋆. THEODORE NOTT FICS HALL OF FAME 𓈒 ⭒ ݁ .
so this summer marks a year since i started obsessing over this stupid stupid handsome beautiful amazing of a character and it is actually insane. i always used to have phases for different characters and it changed like every two weeks but for the past year it's been him and him only. embarrassing. but well – i've read a lot of amazing pieces of fiction about him so here i am to give some appreciation! these are my favourites with top notch writing and plot and portrayal of the character and everything else!!! in no particular order
spring breaks loose by @fangisms GOD i love her work!! she also wrote darling socialite which is possibly even more amazing (and i actually requested it hehe and i love it so much)
next we have @cassiopeiasdaughter (this is really just a list of my favourite authors here) with mirrorball (requested by me again, this is also maybe just a list of stuff i requested, i am shameless with this) and this cute little drabble about theo and the reader's cat <3
honestly i could just write everything i said before about everything that's coming next. i looove when @veryberryjelly does these events and here's my favourite one of these!!
this is smut and i feel weird recommending something smutty but its a really really well written thing so you need to read it if you like this type of thing
so i don't normally like to read series but i loooooved kiss with a fist by @theostrophywife!!! (sorry i can't find the og masterlist post in my likes to link it but you'll find it)
@patrophthia has some amaaaazing fics! love is sour grapes and take you to the basics and these plot bunnies and genuinely anything else by her! there's i think this fic set in the summer that i can't remember the name of. and the one based on "bewitched" by laufey! so good! and my favourite way of writing theo's character like ever
laughs in the courtyard is the cutest ever and i think one of the first fics i've read about theo?
these headcanons are straight out of my dreams!! often reread them just to have him more visualised in my head and some parts feel literally straight out of my brain
so i don't read angst almost at all, i like sweet and nice and happy things but moonlight & masks as well as mio, both in kind of the same vibe i just adore! i guess war angst i don't mind. especially when it's so good!
now this is kind of toxic and manipulative theo but i loooove control freak<3 i linked part two but obviously start with the first. both awesome
and last by not least @artytaeh is probably my favourite author here right now!! this masterlist has no misses only hits <3 you gotta read it all right now. again, this portrayal of theo and everything else is just perfect
okay thank youuuuuu for reading and i hope you read everything on this list because it's all fantastic! bye bye kiss kiss goodnight
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Will Graham X Reader: Academic validation
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Warnings: smut, switch reader x switch will, use of pet names (darling, baby), drinking, fluff, making out, penetration (p in v), cowgirl, oral (f receiving), handjob, female anatomy, gender neutral reader no use of y/n.
Word Count: 2,5K
You really should be paying attention to the lecture. And boy were you trying to but his fucking hands. His fucking hands were driving you insane. Every time he fidgeted with them as he spoke or used them to point out a particular aspect of the crime he was analyzing you found yourself distracted.
It wasn’t hard to have a crush on Will. He was an attractive guy. An attractive slightly older guy who passed off a sort of touch starved vibe. You had a thing for guys like that. The only problem was that he was your teacher. All though you didn’t think that should matter. You were an adult who was capable of making your own choices and so was Will. The real issue was the way that your little crush had started affecting your learning. You tried to pay attention to what Will was saying but as soon as your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips you could help but think of kissing him. You were so deep in thought you didn't notice him finish his lecture. And you didn’t notice as your colleagues shuffled out of the classroom. Your head snapped up at the sound of someone calling your name. Your eyes found Will's frame. He was sitting on top of his desk, eyes locked onto you. You stared at him in silence.
“You okay?”
His brows furrowed in worry as he continued to observe you. Gosh he was cute like this. You shook your head letting out a small laugh.
“Yeah. Sorry Mr.Graham must have gotten caught up in my own head.”
“Will’s fine.”
“Sorry what?”
“Oh uh you can just call me Will.”
“Oh okay Will. I’ll get out of your hair.”
You picked up your textbook, shoving it in your bag before moving down the steps towards Will's desk. You gave him a small smile as you made your way to the door.
“Are you sure you're okay?”
His question made you freeze. You turned around so that you were facing him. His hands were pushed up against his desk drawing attention to his muscles. You bit the inside of your cheek forcing yourself to focus on his face.
“Why do you ask?”
“I just noticed you haven’t been yourself lately. You usually participate a lot in class. But you’ve been really quiet this past week. It got me wondering.”
“Can i be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days and I'm having trouble keeping up in class. I didn't want to say anything because I know what everyone will say.”
“What will they say?”
“That I'm not cut out for this.”
Will let out an understanding hum. He pushed his body off the desk, turning his back to you as he made his way to his chair. You watched him, taking in how his body moved.  On instinct you found yourself moving towards his desk. It was as if there was some invisible force pulling you to him. 
“When I started teaching people thought I wasn't gonna last a week. They thought I was too odd. Too sensitive to handle a classroom dynamic. Do you know what I did?”
You shake your head. 
“I proved them wrong.”
Will grinned at you and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. A moment of silence passed over the room. Will was deep in thought. You could tell just by looking at him. You thought of going on your way but before you could move Will started to speak once more.
“Show me what you’re having a hard time with.”
“Oh no, I couldn't possibly do that. You have to go home and i-”
“Do you have plans?”
You didn’t, not unless you count eating dinner alone and watching a movie before bed as plans. 
“You’re sure I won't be a bother?”
“Not at all. Believe it or not I actually enjoy teaching. Could you just do me a favor first?”
“Yeah sure, what do you need?”
“Close the door will you?”
You placed your bag on Will’s desk before walking to the door. You stuck your head out looking at the empty hall. You shut the door carefully before turning around. Your eyes fell on Will's frame. He was sitting on his desk, his hand slicking back his hair as he waited for you.
You were stuck in a room with Will Graham. 
What had you gotten yourself into?
It turns out there was a lot more you’d missed then you had anticipated. Will didn’t seem to mind though. He went over every case you didn’t remember and never judged you for missing any clues. Even if they were kind of obvious. After a while the two of you drifted into other topics. You told Will about your life and he shared stories of his dogs. At some point Will had pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his desk and everything seemed to go downhill from there.
You were currently sitting on the floor desperately trying to breathe in between laughs. Will had just told you about the time Winston had run away and gotten sprayed by a skunk. 
“ I couldn't get the smell out of the house for a week. And the other dogs didn’t want to go near him. They treated him like he was contagious.”
“You’re kidding!” “I swear!” 
The sound of yours and Will's laugh filled the room again. He let out a deep sigh, finally managing to regain his breath. When you met his gaze he had a smile plastered on his face.
“What is it?”
“Oh nothing. It’s just been a while since I've done something like this.”
“What, gotten drunk in a classroom?”
“Had a fun time with someone.”
Your stomach did a flip at Will's words. You knew he wasn’t a typically social guy but you imagined he had friends. You’d seen him talking to Dr.Bloom a couple of times and couldn’t help but notice how he looked at him.
It was the same way you looked at him. 
“Hey.”
Will placed his hand on yours leaning his head to the side.
“Did I say something?”
“No. Sorry. Just having a hard time believing you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nevermind. I should get going. It's getting late.”
You rose from the ground. Will mirrored your movements, rising to his feet as well. You downed the last of your drink, placing your cup down on Wills desk. You accidentally knocked your bag down in the process, causing your things to go spilling out everywhere.
“Oh fuck me.”
“Here let me help.”
Will crouched down beside you helping you gather your things. The two of you moved without paying too much attention,  the alcohol in your system making you clumsy. Somehow you managed to knock your head into Will's nose.
“Oh shit sorry Will.”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. You might be bleeding. Here let me take a look.”
You guided Will to his chair, your things forgotten on the floor. He sat down, his hand still applying pressure to his nose. You placed a hand on top of him, guiding him to let go. He understood your request. Your fingers moved carefully over his nose, trying to see if anything was bruised. Will hissed as you touched a tender spot.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m not a doctor but i don't think anything is broken. And you're not bleeding so you should be fine.”
Instinctively you placed your hand on Will's cheek. You watched him close his eyes, learning into your touch. Slowly Will opened his eyes. His blue orbs bore into you. He was looking up at you with puppy eyes. Your breath sped up at the sight. His lips parted slightly to whisper your name. Will's hand moved to the back of your leg. He pushed your body closer to his, hand wrapping around your thigh. You lifted your leg allowing him to guide you onto his lap. Will moved his head to the side, moving to kiss your wrist. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as he continued to kiss down your arm. A gasp left your mouth as Will pressed his face into your chest, his arms wrapping around your back as he desperately tried to be closer to you. You could feel his tongue though the fabric of your shirt. The feeling caused you to throw your head back as your hands made their way into Will’s curls. You heard him call your name again making you look down at him. He had his head against your chest, his beautiful blue eyes staring up at you.  
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
Will pulled you down into him, allowing the two of you to be face to face. The kiss was gentle and far too quick for your liking. Your lips parted for each other. Will put his hand on your cheek. His thumb moved over your lips, caressing them. You opened your mouth, tongue darting out to lick the tip of his digit. Will let out a shuddered breath at the action. You smirked at him. 
“You should be careful darling. You don’t know who you’re playing with.”
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me?”
The grin that made its way onto Will's face could only be described as wolfish. Before you knew it Will had risen from his seat and placed you on the ground. He wasted no time working his way into your pants. You gasped as his fingers played with your folds.
“This wet already?”
“In all honesty i’ve been wet since we started talking.”
“Jesus baby.”
“I think about you a lot. In class. In bed. Anywhere really.”
“Oh yeah? And what do you think about?”
“Your hands, your back, what you’d look like naked.”
“So that's why you’re behind? Been to busy thinking of fucking me to pay attention.”
“Yes…”
Will tugged at your pants, pulling them down your leg. You lifted your hips to help him out. He lent down, placing a kiss to your thighs and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. Will grazed his teeth against your skin and then continued to kiss the spot.
“Will, please.”
“What do you want?”
“Anything, just please give me something.”
“Only cause you’ve been good.”
A moan broke from your lips as Will's tongue moved over your folds. You placed your hand over your face, head turning to the side as Will ate you out. He was skilled. A lot more skilled than you’d imagined him to be. The way his tongue moved over your pussy had you screaming out for him. Your sounds seemed to spur him on because whenever you let out a yelp, Will would focus all his energy into that spot. His palm was splayed against your chest, fingers gripping at your breast.
You wrapped your hands around Will's wrist dragging his hand up to your face. You placed two of his fingers into your mouth sucking on them eagerly. Will let out a grunt at the feeling, his hips moving against the carpet for some much needed friction. You watched him hump the carpet like a dog in heat and you couldn’t help but want to pleasure him too. You wanted to make him feel as good as he was making you feel because he deserved it. But at the moment you were far more focused on cumming.
“Will, baby, I'm so close…”
“Yeah. You gonna cum for me?”
“Ah Will-shit ugh-please.”
Will seemed to know exactly what you were begging for. He placed a kiss on your clit as he inserted two fingers into you. The combination of his fingers inside you, his tongue on you and the sight of the blissed out look on his face had you cumming in seconds. You yelled out his name, your hand tugging on his curls as you came. Will laid down beside you as you came down from your high. His hand went to his dick, tugging at his pants in an attempt to get some relief. You tried to catch your breath, tilting your head to look at Will. You noticed how he fidgeted with his hard on. You called out his name, making him tilt his head to look at you. 
“What is it?”
“Touch yourself for me.”
Will hesitated for a moment, eyes searching for your approval.
“It’s okay baby, you can touch yourself. It’s your reward for making me feel good.”
It was funny how quickly you managed to switch roles and by the look on Will's face you could tell he enjoyed it. Will opened his zipper, his hand moving to free his member. You inched closer to him, nuzzling your face into the croak of his neck. Will whined as he started stroking his dick. You unbuttoned his shirt, placing your hand on his skin. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he continued to pleasure himself.
“That’s it baby.”
“Oh fuck. Want to…”
“Tell me what you need, Will.”
“Need to be inside of you.”
“Okay, since you’ve been a good boy. I’ll give you what you want.”
You pushed your body off the ground, moving to be on your hands and knees. You crawled over Will's body maneuvering yourself so you were hovering over his dick. You placed your hands on his chest bracing yourself. Will humped into you causing his dick to nudge against your cunt. 
“Ah ah patience Will.”
“Sorry.”
Slowly you sank down onto his dick. His hands gripped your hips instinctively. You let out a breath, trying to adjust to his size. You clenched around Will, making him grunt at the feeling. You lifted your hips before dropping back down. Will moved in unison with you, his hand playing with your nipples as you continued to ride him. Your nails dug into his chest as you moved, the sounds he was letting out only spurring you on. You could feel your upcoming orgasm causing you to fasten your movements. 
“Fuck i’m gonna cum. Gotta get out darling.”
Will moved to tug you on him but you sank your nails into his shoulders. He looked up at you with a startled look. 
“I’m on the pill. Cum inside just please…fill me up. I want you to fill me up.”
You had no idea what your words did to him but it became clear a few seconds later. You barely had time to register Wills orgasm before your own ripped through you. You sagged onto his chest exhaustion finally catching up to you. Will placed a kiss on your neck before nuzzling his nose into you. You caressed his chest as you two tried to recover.
“Think you’ll be able to pay attention in class now?”
“No fucking way.”
Will's laugh filled the room, his chest vibrating against yours. You couldn’t help but grin at the sound.
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readsaboutreid · 4 months ago
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Permanent Solution | S.R.
cw: big big warning for suicidal ideation (first person POV so you get some of the full on thought spiraling) typical criminal minds violence (reader gets kidnapped by an unsub and tortured but it doesn’t get too descriptive), extreme angst, Morgan being a dick at first (I love him but he was the only person I could really see for the role he fills in the plot with his tell it like it is vibes) but he gets his redemption in pt 2 i promise
no request for this one i had a real bad day and needed to use my thought spiral in some sort of creative outlet to get myself out of it so i took it out on spencer and reader sorry in advance y'all
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"None of us like you."
The words rattled around in my brain as I walked absent-mindedly, my destination already in the back of my mind. I hadn't made this walk in five months. The five months before that had been focused on reducing the number of times I took this path.
First, the goal had been to reduce the number of times I felt compelled to take this particular walk. Walks overall weren't out of the question, and were actually encouraged. Especially walks where I shared the company with someone else. But this specific one was different. It carried a different weight. The initial goal set with my therapist had been to reduce how often I walked this path from nearly every night to no more than two or three times a week, substituting it with a different path through a different and more active part of town. After that, the goal was to move to only walking this path once a week. Then, ideally, none at all.
Ten months. Ten months of twice-weekly therapy sessions down the drain. With five measly words. I started to wonder what Spencer would say if he knew where I was headed, but shook my head free of the thought. He'd be better off in the end, anyways. The wind bit into my cheeks and I tugged the green cardigan that hung loosely off my shoulders so that it was tighter around me, the only protection from the cold that seeped down into my bones. I began to walk faster as I shivered, trying anything I could to warm up my body even just a little bit, and thought back to the encounter from earlier that had caused me to spiral so suddenly and severely.
"—none of us like you," Morgan said to me, cutting me off right as I was attempting to defend my previous decision to turn down the previous drink night invitations in the twelve months since I'd been at the BAU, resulting in Spencer also turning them down and going home with me, instead for the last eleven out of twelve of those months. The expression on his face matched the complete and utter disdain dripping from each and every word. "Not even Hotch, who got you the job in the first place, seems to want you on the team anymore. The only person who ever wants you to be around is Reid, and none of us can figure out why." When he finished I took a look around the table to see everyone else just looking down and avoiding my gaze, including Penelope, who had become somewhat of a sister to me in the past year.
"You—," my voice caught in my throat at that point and I cleared it, trying to sound as steady as I could as I asked, "A-all of you share this sentiment?" Despite strength I had tried to muster to ask that question, my voice only came out thick and wavery, and it was all I could do to keep my lip and lower jaw from trembling. I had tried as hard as possible to overcome myself since starting at the BAU, to believe that the people around me genuinely enjoyed my presence and didn't secretly roll their eyes and sigh in relief when I left the room, but apparently I had failed to make them like me and that's exactly what they felt.
"You'll have to excuse me, please," I gasped as the information presented to me sank in. I then stood, my eyes swimming with tears, and ran from the table they had all situated themselves into at the bar, only to run head on into Spencer, who grabbed my by the shoulders with a soft laugh and gentle smile.
"Easy there, (Y/N)," he chuckled while steadying me. It was only then that he realized something was wrong and his smile was immediately replaced with a concerned frown. "Hey, what's wrong, angel?" I shook my head, shook free of his grasp, and kept making for the door, my head slowing down a bit as I finally was able to take in a breath of fresh air as I made it outside.
Spencer hastily followed after me, right at my heels. "(Y/N)! (Y/N), wait!" He called after me, pushing his way through the crowd and finally out the door as well before wrapping me tightly in his arms. "Hey, now, what's wrong, love?" He cooed as he pressed my head into his chest and wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders when he felt me tremble.
I hesitated, debating what to say to him. I could either tell him the truth and earn the further ire of our colleagues by snitching or I could do what I do best: blow every thing up so there would be nobody else to blame but myself. I opted for the latter.
With a deep, shuddering breath, I finally managed to force the words from my throat. Each one stabbed into my chest with the force of a dull butter knife. "I— th-this—," I stumbled, "th-this isn't working, Spencer." My voice was barely above a whisper by the end when I finally met his eyes, which quickly filled with tears at hearing my words.
"Wh-what?" The word came out as nothing more than a breath but within it I swear I could hear the crack in his chest that echoed the one in my own. "Why— wh-what— I don't— where is this coming from?"
"I'm sorry," I said through soft sobs before I turned and ran off, leaving him standing on the sidewalk with tears slowly beginning to fall down his cheeks.
I had broken his heart, ensuring that he, too, would hate me. That was the plan. I had to push him away and make him hate me as much as the rest of them so that it would hurt him less when they found me. I made the last turn and found myself at my destination - the 11th Street bridge.
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Spencer stood on the sidewalk, staring after her long after she had disappeared around the corner up ahead. He ran through the events of the past hour, trying to figure out what he could have done.
"You can go without me, Spencer," she protested as he tried to convince her to go out for drink night with the rest of the team.
"Please come with me? It will be fun, I promise!" It was a strange reversal for him to be the one trying to coax someone else into going out. Usually it was Morgan trying to convince him to go out (Garcia had literally forced him to go out with her after a particularly rough case or two), but now he decided to pay it forward to get his girlfriend to come out with their team and have some much needed fun. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"What if they don't actually want me there?" She asked, her voice small and timid.
"That's ridiculous! Why wouldn't they want you there? You're amazing," he smiled at her, starting to pepper her face with kisses in an attempt to cheer her up. She giggled quietly, not really trying as she made to push him away. He continued his assault, kissing her cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips, over and over with light pecks. When she finally acquiesced, he was giddy with excitement and felt a swell of pride in his chest at the progress she had made since they met.
As they stepped out of his car he grabbed her hand and saw her face twist with anxiety. He gave her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze before his phone rang, the number for the mental facility his mother currently resided in showing on the screen. "I need to take this, head on inside and I'll be right there, okay angel?" She swallowed nervously and walked inside, and he took the call.
5 minutes and 29 seconds.
That's how long he had been on the phone. Whatever had happened had taken only 5 minutes and 29 seconds. And it ended his relationship.
Spencer found himself pushing the door open and walking back inside the bar. His blood rushed in his ears as he approached the table and stared at all of his coworkers.
"What happened?" He asked, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the music.
"Reid," Morgan started, but Spencer cut him off. "Don't look at us like th—"
"Whatever was said in the 5 minutes and 29 seconds I was on the phone with my mother's hospital resulted in me getting dumped on the sidewalk outside when not even 30 minutes ago (Y/N) was laughing, and smiling, and happy. So what. Happened?" He seethed.
"Alright, you want to know what happened, Reid?" Morgan snapped, preparing to stand up and tell him off before being stopped by Penelope, who looked as though she was still on the verge of tears. 
“Reid, I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stood up instead, standing in front of Spencer. “I should have stopped him,” she continued, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have let him talk to her like that.” 
“What did he tell her?” Spencer turned to Garcia, interrupting Derek as he opened his mouth to interject. 
“I told her the truth,” Morgan slurred, finishing off what the rest of them knew was his fourth glass of whiskey. Spencer opted to ignore his clearly drunk colleague and continued to address Garcia. 
“Garcia, what did he say to my girlfriend?” Spencer insisted, his anger being slowly replaced by a sense of growing dread. 
“He— he told her nobody wanted her around,” she admitted, her eyes closing and her face twisting with guilt before she hastily added, “which of course that’s not the case! I love (Y/N) like she’s my own sister...” Spencer felt his heart drop into the pit that had become his stomach as his fears were confirmed.  
“But?” Spencer added, tilting his head to the side, his voice growing quieter as the conversation continued. 
“...but the rest of us miss you, Spence,” JJ finally spoke up. “We haven’t seen you in ages outside of work! If she’s keeping you from spending time with your friends, that's a little bit of a red flag, isn't it?” She reasoned, standing to put a hand on his bicep to calm him.  
He angrily shook her off, the anxiety coursing through his veins shifting back into an icy rage. “She hasn’t kept me from doing anything, Jennifer,” he spat through gritted teeth as he held her gaze, which was a mix of shock and hurt at his tone.  
“Spence, I just meant that—” JJ started, but was immediately interrupted by Spencer, whose rage was steadily growing to the point where he was certain he was visibly trembling. 
“In fact, she has been continually insisting that I leave her behind to come out with you all, but given that I don’t drink much to begin with I usually just opt for a night in with her. I didn’t realize I needed permission from the rest of the team to make that decision for myself,” he bit back before turning to leave. 
“Where are you going, Reid? Reid! Come on, man, be reasonable!” Morgan called out, only for Spencer to ignore him and keep walking. If he stayed there any longer, he knew he would end up saying something he’d regret, and with the way most of them were talking about his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—he figured they’d find some way to blame her for his outburst if he did.
When he finally exited the bar, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and he turned on his heel, preparing for another round of arguing, only to be met with the now tear-streaked cheeks of Penelope Garcia. 
“What do you want, Garcia?” He snapped, his face softening as he took in her apologetic expression. 
“I— I’m sorry, Spencer,” she whispered. “I should have told Derek to shut up, I’m so sorry! I just— I hate when the people I love start fighting like that! I shut down and— and I know I should have stood up for her but I just— I just froze like a coward and—” her voice grew more frantic and upset before Spencer cut her off. 
“Garcia, it’s not your fault,” Spencer sighed, his anger fading away until the only thing he felt was the ache in his chest. “Derek was drunk and belligerent. You’re not responsible for his actions.” He paused as he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just wish I could have been there to put a stop to it. She’s so sweet, and kind, and utterly terrified of people. I shouldn’t have sent her in by herself knowing that." His voice cracked as a fresh wave of tears started to fall down his own cheeks. 
“Spencer, you had no way of knowing any of this would happen,” Penelope wrapped Spencer in a tight hug, and he finally broke down. His body shook gently with soft, nearly silent sobs and he cried into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I know how much you love her.” Garcia’s own voice cracked as her heart ached for the crying boy in her arms.  
“Wh— what do I do, Penelope?” He mumbled into the sleeve of her sweater. “I just want to help her feel better.” That’s all he’d wanted since he’d first laid eyes on her. He’d never forget how emaciated she had looked, her skin pallid and her eyes nothing more than dim, lifeless pits with dark bruise-like rings underneath them.  
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Dr. (Y/L/N). She just graduated from the academy and has expertise in psycholinguistics as well as a doctorate in neuropsychology, so I have no doubt she’ll be an excellent addition to the team.”
Spencer had tried his hardest in the two months after that initial introduction to get to know her, to understand why she looked like a reanimated corpse (albeit a very beautiful one) who had just wandered out of a morgue. Over those two months, the two of them had grown closer and closer, thanks to much insistent pushing from him. At first, it came in the form of attempting to get her to join the rest of them for drinks at their bar of choice (the others would never invite her themselves but Spencer would insist to her that it was okay, that she was a part of the team), but quickly he realized that all might be a bit too much for her. So, one night, he told the team he wasn’t feeling up to going out and instead privately asked (Y/N) if she’d want to join him for pizza and a movie at his place since he wasn't feeling up to big crowds and he had a feeling neither was she. He had been prepared to be turned down but was pleasantly surprised when her face showed the slightest expression of piqued interest and she agreed.
He then started to skip out on pretty much all of the future invitations to go out for drinks with the rest of the team, opting instead to go home for pizza and Doctor Who or Star Trek marathons with her, and he started seeing a whole other side to her that no one else had even suspected could have existed. She’d slowly opened to him, occasionally letting out quiet and restrained laughs at his goofy jokes and puns at the beginning of their friendship.
Eventually, those soft titters grew into ebullient, beautiful laughs that were like music to his ears. Her smiles went from being forced and never meeting her eyes to lighting up her entire face, at times so brightly that Spencer swore she could illuminate a dark room with nothing but her smile. She showed that there was a side to her that was goofy, outgoing, and full of life.
It was around then (November 17 at 11:57 PM) that their relationship had started officially with a soft, tentative kiss goodnight; but from the very first time he heard her let out a soft, breathy giggle at his goofy joke about Spock having three ears (‘a left ear, a right ear, and a final front-ier!’), Spencer knew that he would marry her someday.
Or at least he had thought so, until tonight.  
“Give her some space to sort out her emotions, Spencer,” the voice of Penelope Garcia in his ear dragged him back into the present, her arms still wrapped tightly around him. “She loves you more than anything, and we both know that.” She let go and gave him a teary smile before wiping her cheeks.  
“You’re right,” he replied, taking in another deep, shuddering breath. “Plus, she walked away with my cardigan, and we both know she’s a stickler about returning borrowed clothing!” He attempted a joke, but the laugh he tried to give after cracking it came out more like another choked sob.  
“If I were you, I’d just give her a quick phone call and let her know that you love her no matter what anyone else says or thinks, okay? She needs to know that more than she needs anything else right now.”  
“Right. Yes, you’re right,” he muttered, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “Thank you, Penelope.” 
“I’m always here for you, Spencer,” she smiled at him before adding, “both of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go tear Agent Morgan a new asshole for getting you dumped and hurting my best friend.” She took a second to shake her head and rub her own cheeks to dry them. “Call me once she makes it home safely to you, okay? Promise?” He nodded quietly. “Uh-uh-uh, what was it that one kid had told you a while back? ‘A promise doesn’t count unless you say it out loud,’ right?” 
“I promise,” Spencer felt a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. He then walked down the block to his car, got in, and drove home to wait for (Y/N).  
When he arrived and had walked through the doorway, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed her number. It rang four times and then went to her voicemail.  
“Hi, you’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. (Y/L/N), I can’t come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number, I’ll return your call as soon as I am able. Thanks!” Beep. 
“Hi, (Y/N). So, Penelope filled me in on everything that happened,” he began shakily, and took a deep breath before he continued. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to stop Morgan from saying all of that, but please, please know that no one hates you, I promise. Penelope assured me that she was going to tear him a new one for what he said, and I promised her that I’d call her once you made it home safely.” He paused, searching for his next words carefully, and settled on, “I love you so much, angel. Please, please never forget that.” And then he had to hang up the phone, his eyes filling with more tears.  
He made his way to the couch and sat down, turning the TV on and finding a marathon of Buffy the Vampire Slayer playing. Knowing it was her favorite show, he left it on and patiently waited. On the couch sat a small stuffed cat with a blue and white spotted mushroom for a head that he had gifted her on a whim, Dr. Mewshroom, as she had taken to calling it. He grabbed Dr. Mewshroom and hugged it close to his chest as he leaned back on the couch and eventually dozed off. 
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I paced up and down the 11th Street bridge for an hour before I decided to hop up and sit on the railing. My walking had warmed me up significantly, so I shed the cardigan Spencer had wrapped around my shoulders. Hopefully, it would be returned to him when they eventually found me. I stared down into the dark water beneath my dangling feet and tried to find the courage within me to jump, but I couldn’t give myself the final push I needed, just like all of the previous times I’d made this trip.  
I must have sat there for fifteen more minutes or so before I decided to give it up and go home to Spencer. Maybe, if I begged and pleaded with him, he’d take me back. I checked my phone to see that I had a missed call from him. Weird, I hadn’t even heard it ring. Before I could turn myself around to hop off the railing, I was grabbed from behind and a cloth was pressed to my mouth and nose, blocking me from screaming. My nose and throat filled with a burning sensation before everything faded to black... 
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icarryitin · 5 months ago
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Episode 24: Trade Deal
spencer reid/gn!reader
i started this bc i was ill and feeling sorry for myself and it turned into a very not to me not if it’s you kind of vibe, mostly bc i frankensteined a couple of my favourite translations of That Scene so they could have their own version🥰🥰
series masterlist
word count: 1.5k // warnings: reader has a cold and all the grossness that comes with it, spencer is so Cute™️ it causes me physical pain
summary: In which Spencer Reid, known germaphobe, pretends he doesn’t know exactly how many pathogens have made their home in your sinuses.
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It starts with a scratchy throat on a Tuesday morning.
You don’t think much of it, blame it on seasonal allergies, knock back a multivitamin - you’re not about to be bested by a cough of all things. That is, until it gets to Friday afternoon. You’re trying, you really are. Your immune system has other plans.
“You stay right there, Patient Zero.”
Rossi’s comment would be funny if you didn’t think that laughing might trigger a coughing fit that could very well be the end of you, right there in the doorway of Hotch’s office. That’d be one hell of an epitaph - too stubborn to take a sick day, choked to death in boss’s office. Hotch, at least, already seems to know why you’re hovering.
“I’m-“
“Going home, I hope.” He interrupts you with all the fondness of a concerned father. You don’t have the energy to argue, or to hold up an unaffected front. The men standing by the window soften a little as they watch you visibly deflate. Dave promises to send you his Nonna’s minestrone recipe, there’s nothing it can’t cure; right now, though, you’re only thinking about your bed.
The well wishes follow you through the bullpen, old wives tales and family cures that have never failed. JJ tells you to sweeten your tea with honey, Derek swears that a hot water bottle on your back will work magic. Even Emily pipes up from behind her germ shield, the folder held across her face so you can only see her eyes, and tells you to take a hot shower first thing in the morning - the steam will clear you out for the day. There’s a chorus of agreement, or disagreement you’re not sure. It’s a struggle to hear much over the cotton wool in your ears.
“We’ll see, with any luck I’ll die in my sleep. Love you!” You sniffle as you back out of the office, feeling all kinds of sorry for yourself, and determined to make it as far as you can without touching anything. Lest you actually start the next plague.
Spencer watches you go, shuffling backwards out of the office and turning towards the elevators. He’d elected not to add his own suggestions to the plethora of options supplied by the rest of the team. Unable to focus on much beyond just how tired you look. You’ve been fighting this thing all week, he’d passed over his own supply of hand sanitiser only that morning when you ran out. Ultimately, you put up a good fight, but there’s no cure for a virus. It just has to run its course. Just like his own feelings.
Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be comparing a virus to whatever it is he feels for you. Has felt, will feel - if there’s an end to this tunnel, he can’t see it yet.
“What about you, Spence?”
JJ’s voice pulls him from his thoughts before he can start spiralling down that particular hole. It takes him a moment to recall what they’d been chattering about before your long overdue exit - drinks, right. Yeah, that’s not happening.
“I’m busy, actually.” He shrugs, content to miss out on one night in favour of the plan currently coming to fruition in his mind. They won’t miss him too much.
“Busy? You weren’t busy when we talked about it last week.” Emily makes no effort to conceal her surprise. To be fair to them, it’s not like him to blow them off. There’s just something that’s come up, something decidedly you shaped, that’s far more important.
“Yeah, I forgot. Sorry.”
Spencer doesn’t miss the look that JJ and Emily share, he doesn’t miss the eyebrow that Derek raises in his direction. He simply chooses to ignore them.
At least the walk to your apartment is short, there’s still heat leeching from the plastic bag around Spencer’s wrist as he fumbles with his keys. You’d given him a bright pink key cap, so he’d know which one was yours, as if he wouldn’t know anyway. Eidetic or not, that’s one he would have committed to memory. The excuse had been because he was helping you out whilst you were down an arm, takedown gone wrong, you’d dislocated your shoulder. And then you’d insisted he keep it, because someone should have your spare key, and he’s the least likely of the lot of you to lose it.
He thinks you might be asleep at first, open plan living area lit only by a salt lamp and a set of fairy lights draped over your kitchen window, it’s cosy. And then you appear in the bedroom doorway, wrapped in a jewel toned blanket. The low light is forgiving, but Spencer would be able to spot the bags under your eyes from a mile away. Without his glasses.
“I brought noodles.” He says as he turns back to set the steaming bag on your kitchen counter.
“I’m so gross right now.” As if to demonstrate your point, another cough racks your body. You just about manage to catch it under the swathes of blanket clutched in your fingers, but at least he can’t claim you’re not truly disgusting in this moment.
“I don’t mind.”
You’re so set on denying him entry that you don’t even really register what he said - Spencer Reid doesn’t mind that you’re ill. He doesn’t mind. A younger, healthier version of you would swoon. You might anyway, although that’s probably the vertigo talking.
“You’ll get sick.” Your rebuttal is weak, resolve crumbling. Warm noodles do sound pretty good right now.
“Will you let me help you, please?” It’s the firmest he’s ever been with you. No room for argument, doctor’s orders. So you have to relent. Not that you have much of a choice, he’s already pottering about in your kitchen in search of bowls. As if he doesn’t remember where they are.
“Did you get me a number three?” Your voice is brighter than he’s heard it all week.
“With extra toppings, of course.”
And those extra toppings go down a treat, of course they do.
Spencer watches you carefully as you eat - usually he’d be a little more subtle about it, but there’s not a lot that could pull your attention away from the bowl in your hands. You’re cross legged on the couch, blanket bunched around your middle, happy as a clam. Something his mother would say. He wonders what else she might say, what she might think about the abandonment of his germaphobia. Convenient, probably. Diana would say it with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile, the one that’s just for him. She has always liked you.
He promises he’ll be back tomorrow, once dishes are washed and leftovers are tucked neatly in your fridge, to make sure you get that hot shower Emily mentioned. The steam will definitely help, he’s read about it. Arguing with him would be pointless. You don’t have the energy, he’d only show up anyway, and it’s kind of nice to feel looked after. Spencer’s never failed to make you feel like that. You’re far too delirious to start thinking about that, not while he’s still standing in front of you at least. So you let him tuck you into bed, let him leave a glass of water on the table, let him dote. Pretending is a comfort when you feel as awful as you do. You’re already drifting off before he’s even ready to leave, content enough in your bed with the sound of him in the other room. Just, tinkering.
The sound of your front door opening rouses you the next morning, just about. Just enough to raise your head from your pillow and witness the sorry sight in your bedroom doorway.
Spencer’s trying - key word, trying - to suppress his sniffles, but the red rimmed eyes and tissue clutched in his fist give him away. It’s impossible to keep the sad little smile off of your face.
“Oh no.” You reach out a tired arm to pat the space beside you. There’s enough room for the two of you in amongst the blankets, and Spencer’s so far gone that he doesn’t even argue. His shoes and bag find a home at the foot of your bed as he lets himself collapse into the nest you’ve built. Tension leeches out of his body the moment he hits the mattress.
You have to lean across him to get your phone, right arm outstretched over his back - you can feel the heat rising off of him through his sweater and yours. Fever, that’s day two. Which means he spent yesterday evening taking care of you whilst he began to feel worse and worse. Softie.
“Egg or no egg?”
There’s an affirmative grunt from where his face is buried in your blankets. Egg it is, then. You dial the number mostly from memory, elbow still resting on his shoulder blade when you put the phone to your ear. You feel a little better than you did, but dragging yourself to the front door is still probably all you’ll be capable of today. At least you won’t be suffering alone. The line rings for a moment, then clicks, and a grainy hello sounds from the other side.
“Hi, can I place a breakfast order for delivery, please?”
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i’m stuck on which chapter to work on next, do we want angst or yearning or fun flirty activities????🧡
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tan1shere · 22 days ago
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Are We Still Friends
Billie Eilish x female reader !
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A/n: thought I'd do some angst again cuz im in the mood for it turday - I don't know if there's a happy ending tho... SORRY !
Summary: she didn't mean to hurt you, never wanted to. But she ended up doing so. Badly and unfixable.
Warnings: ANGST ! No happy ending, idk if there's anything else ?? Get tissues babes
Masterlist
She wasn't herself recently and it worried you, knowing her past. But it wasn't exactly like that. You began to think that at first when she started isolating from you. But then you saw how cold she had gotten. You started to wonder if it was you, who had upset her. But you've never done anything except love her. She had been out all day, like she has been alot recently. You understood because she has to work ofcourse, but it was always later in the evening when she got home.
You two were seated for some dinner, things being silent like usual. You watch her mess around with the food, not making eye contact with you. "So, how was your day?" She shrugs. "It was alright." She replies. Her tone dry as anything. Your heart picks up in speed, not liking this side of her. It was not only worrying but frightening you. What had you done, what had anyone done to upset her this much?
Whenever you'd ask if she was ok, you'd just get a hum in reply. But it was far from reassuring your concern for her currently. So you ask her properly tonight, usually leaving it be whenever she'd hum. "Baby are you sure you're ok, you've just been so off recently." Her eyes look up at you slightly for a second, then immediately back at her food. "I'm fine." You're surprised by the full answer. "Are you s-" "I said. I'm fine." Your heart sinks at the way she talked to you, was she angry?
"Oh, ok." You slowly grab your plate, going to put it in the sink without another word. That is, until she speaks up. "I'm sorry." She sighs. But you just think it's best to leave her right now, heading up to your bedroom. "Baby." She says timidly, still holding a slight anger in her voice. You knew something was clearly going on, and all you wanted was for her to talk to you. Or atleast figure out what was happening. Is She tired? Did you say or do something? Or maybe you hadn't said or did something.
It was eating at you, stressing you out. All you wanted was for your true love to be ok. It's all you've ever wanted. You couldn't work properly, it invading your mind like a bad smell. All you wanted was to get home and sleep, especially with her. But that also died down along with her happy vibe. No cuddles at all, you felt unlovable. Her mood was killing your own, and causing all your friends to notice. But that was the thing. She seemed to be semi ok with them, still having a tense tone.
But actually making an effort to talk. Maybe it was you, maybe you weren't as interesting anymore. Maybe she'd grown from you, was she getting over you? Night time rolls around after a long, long day. You get into bed, her not long after. Immediately going to get some sleep. "Night baby." You said, softly. "Night." Again, dry. Desert dry. You sigh, turning over on your side. Facing her but closing your eyes. You hadn't noticed, but she was looking at you. The guiltiest look on her face.
A few weeks past and nothings changed. She's still in the same exact mood. It made you wonder if it will always be like this. You were at work currently, going to scroll on your phone while on your break. You lean back in your chair observing. When you see a particular photo. One that made your heart sink. You look at it carefully. But you didn't want to, you wanted to puke. It was Billie, she was kissing another girl. You were trying to rack your brain on when and where this happened.
The caption said "Billie with - some girl." Your brows furrow. Her fans knew about you, you didn't know exactly how well but when you opened the comments it was clear.
'That doesn't look like Y/n'
'Did Billie cheat'
'That isn't her girlfriend'
'Who is she kissing'
You had the exact same thoughts, except there was more of them. Flooding your mind. "Who is she." "Whyd she do this." How could she, you really didn't want to believe it. She would never. Your heart sinks further realizing that it was you. But at the same time it wasn't. She cheated on you. You were still in pure shock, deciding to go home early.
You doubted she had even seen the photo, she hardly ever went on her phone these days. But then that got you thinking, the only time she did was at night. But she'd only go onto text messages, you know. Because her phone would constantly ding. You figured it would be Finn, or a family member. Or even another friend. But now you were starting to think otherwise. You plop down on your bed when you finally get home. Staring at the ceiling.
You thought it over long and hard, and you were picking between confronting her and getting it over with or letting her come clean. But it's been so long you worry she wouldn't. Did she care? But you couldn't bear it, the thought of loosing her. And if you confront her that would be the result. You just hoped deep down she'd come clean and you could try working this out. Right?
The door opens hours later, you see her placing her phone down on the nightstand. "Hey, what're you doing back early?" She asks. "Didn't feel too great at work today." You reply, turning over. "Oh, sorry." You knew she said that to be somewhat sympathetic, but in a way it's as if she was apologizing for more. You shrug slightly, just wanting to take another nap. "Me and Finn finally got done with something we had been struggling on for months." She says a tad bit happier than she had been.
You nod. "That's good, Bills." Now it was your turn to be dry, she wanted to leave you be. Noticing your mood. Going down to the living room. You look over at her phone that she had left, considering looking at it. Was that wrong.. you don't even know if you can trust her after the photo, you were almost certain you'd find what you really hoped not to find on there. When it dings. You just had to, reaching over to grab it.
She hadn't changed her password. Did she think shed get away with it or something? Did she want to just pretend it never happened? All these new questions in your head overflowing. You go to the message and it was from a girl, that girl who was feeling her up at a party way back. You knew Billie didn't like her and found her to be very annoying. What changed? Billie was always a kind person to everyone, never mean to anyone's face. Especially considering this girl was friends with some mutual friends.
But not that friendly. You felt your eyes water, thinking of what to do. You read more of the messages. Reading one of Billies saying to leave her alone in the end. Did she regret it? Why hadn't she told you if so. You bite your bottom lip, feeling the tears pour. 2 years wasted. Down the drain. That was all you could think now. How much of a waste this whole thing was. Slight anger rises in you. Not much because you never got angry, but this. This was the thing to be mad about.
You walk downstairs, little scared for what's about to come. She was sitting on the sofa, when you let her phone fall into her lap. Her head looks up at you, confused as anything. Her eyes move to her phone seeing what was on it. Her head instantly looks at you again, noticing the tears. "Baby-" "Don't. Baby me. You don't have any right to call me that. When you've hardly been doing such for a few months. Why start now." She was stunned to say the least. Even though she shouldn't be, she knew you'd find out eventually. But she honestly hoped it'd fade away and that you wouldn't have to.
"Please let me-" "Explain?" You finish. "Theres nothing to explain. You've been talking to this girl for God knows how long. Kissed her!" She didn't realize you knew that. "How'd.." You scoff slightly. "When your famous Billie. Cameras never leave you. I saw on one of your fans accounts." She sighs, cursing to herself. Now she really felt guilty. She had been this whole time and wanted to tell you. She just never knew how and decided to forget it all. "It was a mistake." You chuckle. "Yeah, a massive fucking one." Her hands go to grab your shoulders as she quickly gets up.
You push her back. "No Billie, don't touch me. Please." The Please breaks her, she finally felt everything. All that she had been ignoring and pushing down until she didn't feel as guilty. That was truly pointless now. "Ba- Y/n. Just let me tell you what really happened." You shake your head. "How am I suppose to trust you. You've been lying to me this whole time." She nods. "I know I know, I don't know why I didn't just tell you. I should've." - "You're a liar. You're a fucking cheat." You go to leave the room. But she goes after you.
"Let me talk, please." You turn to look at her. "What's there to say? That it was an accident. You had been drinking, she came onto you. And that you were intoxicated so you obviously couldn't stop her. Did I miss anything?" She looks at you, that was half true. "Just let me-" "No, save it. Because if it's remotely close to what I just said I don't want to hear it." You go over to the closet. "I had been drinking, and no that's no excuse. I was trying to get away from her. I promise." Your tears come back. That promise was broken to you.
"I have no excuse for what I did. And I should've told you but I didn't, because I was trying to protect you. I didn't want to hurt you especially with how work had got you. I couldn't, I decided to when things eased. Then it started weighing on me. I felt miserable because it was all I was thinking of. The fact I hurt you, the second she kissed me." You grab a suitcase as she waffles on. Her eyes filled with worry. "You have to believe me, I know you won't but please. Please." It had been forever since you heard any emotion in her voice. And now it was need, desperation. "I cant stop you." You say sadly.
She looks at you confused. "I don't like her at all." You shrug again. "I don't know what to believe at this point." You pack a few things, starting to fully sob now, feeling shakey. She comes over going to gently touch your arm. "N-no." You attempt to move her. "Stop." But she now cries ever so slightly, bringing you into a hug. You wanted none of it. But with your weak state, your pathetic hits to her chest were doing nothing. You did need comfort right now but she was the last person you wanted it from.
When you muster up some courage you push her away. Scurrying with the suitcase down the stairs. You needed to get away. You had to.
"Are we still friends?.."
You don't say another word, knowing you both knew the answer to her question. It was the end you just couldn't keep doing this anymore. You didn't want to hurt. This was the only option for now. Closing the front door...
Maybe thats the sign it just wasn't meant to be.
Can't say goodbye..
Can't say goodbye.
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whore4gwen · 2 months ago
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Can I request a Smut with Alcina and reader where reader was actually sent to eliminate Alcina but then Alcina kinda like catches and hate fucks her? Only consensual ofc but something akin to enemies to lovers?
🐰-anon
𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙・゚・。
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A/N: I LOVE this idea omg?? I’m so incredibly sorry for how long it actually took me to write this. With my classes starting up again, I’ve been so overwhelmed and busy.
This may not be exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!
Tags: Enemies to lovers dynamic, talks of death & torture, teasing, blood, fear play (?), praise kink, submissive/ dominant dynamics, top Alcina, bottom reader, unwanted yearning, delusions, fingering, degradation if you squint, hand riding, daddy Alcina vibes, ambiguous ending, I think that’s it lmk if I missed any!!
Word count: 2.4K
I apologize for any grammar mistakes, as of current it’s unedited, but I’m so tired so I’ll do it later tomorrow.
———————————————————————-
You had one mission. One seemingly normal, manageable mission.
All you needed to do was observe her, and gather as much information as you could about her.
Alcina Dimitrescu.
That name did wonders. It almost excited you as much as it infuriated you. The damn nerve of that woman was what drove you so impossibly close to the edge.
Her heated gaze burnt into the back of your mind. Gold ripples clouds your vision.
You didn’t have time for this. Any of it really. Chris, along with several other BSSA members would be there any day to take them out. Every monstrosity they call ‘family’.
In the four short weeks at Castle Dimitrescu, you unintentionally became Alcina’s head maiden.
How you managed to accomplish that was beyond you. It did make you wonder. You hadn’t exactly done anything in particular to acquire such a position from the mistress of the castle. Your mind buzzed with possibilities. Was she onto you? No. Of course she wasn’t, she couldn’t be, could she?
With shaky hands, you took a deep breath trying to further compose yourself. The portable tray in your hands suddenly feels like a ton of bricks.
The lady was expecting her afternoon tea and isn’t too keen on waiting. Her patience grew weary by the moment.
Slowly you brought your right hand and gently knocked on the brooding wood that distinguishes right from wrong, safe and dangerous.
A muffled “Come in,” filled the unorthodox silence. Leisurely you opened the door, making sure to keep your eyes lowered as you approached the ornate vanity, and set down the tray.
Lady Dimitrescu’s predatory gaze burned holes as she watched you intently. Seemingly lost in her trance, she doesn’t realize when you’re standing right in front of her, tea cup in hand.
“Lady Dimitrescu?” you said questioningly, curious where her mind might be.
“Yes, sorry, dear. Thank you.” She replies quickly, taking the seemingly hand painted tea cup. A faint metallic smell infiltrated the small space between you. It was no secret what the lady of the castle preferred in her afternoon tea. Regardless, a shiver ran down your spine at the mere thought of who that could be.
“Is that all my lady?” You asked as you made your way back to the vanity to retrieve the silver tray.
“Actually, there is something I wanted to discuss with you.” She said slowly. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
As if you even have a choice in the matter. Alcina Dimitrescu, always playing with her food. Utterly ridiculous.
“Something makes me think it’s not really up for debate, is it?” You ask knowingly, growing a bit bold.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She responds teasingly, while smirking. Vague as ever.
Even though she’s a ruthless vile woman, whos committed several dozen atrocities, you have to admit, she’s painfully attractive
Beauty and confidence radiate off her, making her all the more alluring. The air around her is absolutely intoxicating. You know it’s wrong, but you just can’t help yourself.
Tirelessly, you try to derail your mind that convinces you, you need more, that you need her..
Each and every humaneless act she’s committed plays before your eyes, yet the image of a broken woman stuck in her own mortality alway wins.
“Well, I hope I can acquire whatever you desire to know.” You reply plainly.
She eyes you almost cautiously. Observing you shamelessly. Her heated gaze makes you all too aware of the situation you’re in. The danger, the unknown, the claws of a monster.
Red paints your vision. For a moment, you feel you might just lose consciousness. A terrible feeling churning in your gut. This could go one of two ways. Either you talk and she miraculously lets you go or you talk and she uses your blood as wall decorum. One option seeming more likely than the other.
“Oh don’t play coy with me, darling. I have a brain, you know.” She says suddenly breaking the silence. “I must admit though, you do have a good facade. Dare I even say, you almost fooled me.”
Option two then.
Your heart beated rapidly at the confrontation. A dull ringing sounded in your ears. This is as close to death as you ever want to get. If you make it out alive, Chris will never hear the end of this.
You opened your mouth to speak, but just as fast as it opened, it shut. You were genuinely at a loss of words. She’s a clever woman, sure, but how did she know? Or even better, how long has she known? And if awhile, why hasn’t she sent you to the cellar?
Your impending doom hung above your head as your mind scrambled to find any sort of excuse, or anything really to get yourself out of this situation, with all your limbs intact.
“Don’t go all shy now, pet.” Lady Dimitrescu says as she leans closer, filling the gap between the two of you.
Pet? Your brain nearly short circuited at the nickname. “I.. I..” You mumbled lamley, still trying to formulate a coherent sentence. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t anything you could say or do to protect yourself. All you could do now was draw your inevitable death out for as long as you can.
“You know, I considered killing you when I found out. Or maybe sending you to the cellar to be my daughter's newest plaything.” Lady Dimitrescu says lowly. “But..” she drags out slowly, anticipation and fear consuming you as you waited for what she would say next.
“But?..” You repeated slowly, wondering what else she could possibly say.
You subconsciously leaned forward slightly, hanging on each and every word that spilled from her crimson lips. Exactly as she wanted. Eagerness coursed through your body like electricity.
“But, I thought something better. After all, it would be a shame to dispose of such beauty.” She finally responded, once again leaving suspense in the air.
Like a pole nailed to the ground, you were so impossibly still; you even forgot to blink. What exactly did she mean by that, you thought to yourself.
Lady Dimtrescu throws her head back in laughter at the apparent confusion painted along your face.
“Come here, now.” She demanded, no longer laughing as she was momentarily.
Quickly, deciding to keep your head as long as you could, you were standing in front of Lady Dimitrescu in seconds.
“Good.” She praised with a fond smile, and by the Gods, was she a sight to see.
“Now then, I’m going to tell you exactly how this is going to go. Do you understand me?” She asked authoritatively, leaving no room for retort.
While maintaining eye contact, you haphazardly nodded your head in understanding.
“Oh no, sweetheart. You’re going to have to do much better than that. Use your words like the big girl you are.” She responded.
Nervously, you swallowed the lump residing in your throat, “Y-yes, Lady Dimitrescu.” you whispered.
“Good girl.” She praised in return.
Her affirmation made your head fuzzy and core ache with want. There was absolutely no way this was happening right now. Whatever happened to her being the enemy?
Smirking, she grabbed the side of your face and ran her pale, slender finger down the expanse of your jaw, hooking two fingers under your chin and forcing your eyes to meet.
Your skin felt hot. Feverishly so, almost like you were lit on fire. Her burning gaze keeps you trapped in a fevernet daze. There’s no going back now, not even if you really wanted to.
“How about we play a little game?” She asked slyly.
A game? What kind of game? One wear she ruthlessly tears my head off? Or maybe chases me around the castle for sport? I’m not sure I'd like to play any ‘game’ with her, you thought to yourself.
“What do you have in mind?” You asked cautiously, but curiously.
For a moment, she was silent. Her eyes tracing your figure up and down. It was hard to read her, she had an impressive poker face, but as the lady of the castle you didn’t expect anything less. Alcina was a force of nature, which was what made her so incredibly dangerous.
A beat.
The palpable silence was consuming.
Then suddenly Lady Dimitrescu raised her hand and firmly patted her curvy thigh, “Sit.” she said indifferently.
Strangely, you’re more scared of sitting on her thigh than her slicing you into millions of bits and pieces. There was absolutely no way you were about to sit on Alcina Dimitrescu’s thigh.
Wide eyed, you stared at Lady Dimitrescu astounded. You almost couldn’t believe what was happening, no, you couldn’t believe it. Surly, this is some sick and twisted dream your mind conjured to torture you. You weren’t exactly into her, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least morbidly curious about her.
“I don’t like repeating myself, dear.” She said mockingly, your distress clearly fueling her. She wasn’t quite sure yet, but something reeled her in. She was almost certain had you been anyone else you’d be long gone by now. But this was different, you were different.
Slowly but surely you made your way to the large pristine chair, and hoisted yourself onto the expanse of her leg. Embarrassed, you faced away from her and diverted your gaze to the floor.
Expertly, Lady Dimitrescu wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you flush against her front. Heat burns your cheeks at the quick action.
“Much better.” She purred in your ear as she slowly licked the shell.
Heat went straight to your core as you tried to close your thighs. You couldn’t help but squirm at the feeling of her hot breath down your neck.
Her hand drew lazy patterns on your leg as she slowly bought her hand up to where you desperately wanted her.
“Do you want it?’ She asked in a hushed voice as if she didn’t already know the answer.
Yes. Of course you wanted it, even if it was against your better judgment. Figuratively and literally, you undeniably fucked. There was no way in hell you’d be able to tell Chris about this. You’d most likely lose your job and any shred of dignity you have after this.
A groan slipped past your lips, “yes.”
“Yes what? What do you want?” She replied teasingly. She wanted to poke and prod till you burst. She knew exactly what buttons to push to evoke a reaction.
Your brain fogged with indescribable want. The neurons in your brain failing to cooperate and make any logical response.
“You.” you said needily, almost like a whine. Oh how pathetic you looked. She hadn’t even done anything and you were already ever so desperate for her. She loved it, craved it even.
So submissive, so compliant.
“What do you want me to do, darling?” She asked in response. Of course she knew, but how amusing would it be to make you voice it to her?
“Anything, just do anything, please.” You begged while clenching your thighs once again. You were sure your core was absolutely dripping by now.
“Begging are we?” She asked rhetorically. You could practically hear her shit eating smile.
How she loved it when you begged. The sound was addicting to put it plainly. She could definitely get used to hearing it.
Finally, she brought her hand all the way up your thigh to your aching center. Her slender finger rubbing your folds through the fabric of your underwear.
You gasped at the sudden contact as you pushed yourself closer to her.
“Oh my, you’re absolutely drenched.” She teased. “Is this all for me?” She asked breathily in your ear, just as before,
All you could do was nod in response., your mind too taken with the way her fingers felt against you.
Seemingly tired of the foreplay, Lady Dimitrescu pushed the side of your black lacy thong to the side, exposing your glistening core. A chill ran down your spine at the sudden change in temperature.
“Absolutely beautiful, darling.” She praised as she ran her middle finger through your folds. A low moan erupted from your chest at the notion.
“More, I need more..” You begged, feeling yourself grow impatient.
A smirk plastered on her face as Lady Dimitrescu had a borderline evil idea. “As you wish.” She replied as she quickly plunged two fingers into your soaping core.
You threw your head back onto her shoulder at the rough treatment moaning loudly. Her pace was bruising, but the stretch was undeniably delicious. There was something so attractive about Lady Dimitrescu man handling you.
As she continued,your moans were near pornographic. You were sure anyone in the castle knew what the lady was up to. Not that you care all that much, but it’s still a bit embarrassing.
Your hips jerked up into her hand as she used her palm to apply more pressure on your swollen clit. You felt euphoric. There was nothing in the world you could compare to the way Lady Dimitrescu was making you feel. Even if she did kill you when she was finished, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” She asked while prepping kisses down your neck.
You moaned in response, not being able to form a coherent response.
“Good girl.” She uttered whilst kissing your cheek. “You’re doing so good for me, darling.” She encouraged.
“Come undone for me, show me how much of a needy whore you are for me.” She said as she curled her fingers into your sweet spot.
As if her plethora of praise wasn’t enough, she was so precise, so experienced with her fingers.
With one final thrust, you came all over her fingers. Your juices running down her hand, and ruining your underwear.
She finished with a few slow thrusts while you rode out your high. Once your breath evened out, she skillfully removed her fingers from your core.
“You did wonderfully.” She praised once again while placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
This Lady Dimitrescu was foreign. Incomprehensible even. And yet, for some reason, you adored her this way. Soft spoken and light, she almost seemed human, almost.
What’s to come after this is completely beyond you, all you can do is pray it’ll all come full circle.
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sometimesanalice · 3 months ago
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just thinking about “like I can” bradley on this fine Thursday evening (and every other day)
Oh my god, you and me both! (He’s never not on my mind, let’s be honest 😂) Cozy, domestic Bradley has been both the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires of late.
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Delicate Sensibilities
Summary: After a long week and having spent too many days apart, Bradley gives his girlfriend quite the eyeful.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 1.5k
Bradley’s lounging on his couch half watching the game on tv and half aimlessly scrolling on his phone waiting for you to get home.
You’ve been having to work late most days this week because of some tight deadlines with a difficult client. He feels like he’s barely seen you in the past four days.
And it didn’t help that you’d slept at your place last night.
Alone. Without him.
Coyote had even accused him earlier tonight of moping and bringing down the vibe at the Hard Deck. Which he wasn’t wrong and Bradley can own up to it. He was definitely guilty of sulking.
He just missed you.
It’s all he can do to try and play it cool- the game completely forgotten- when he hears open his front door, letting yourself in with the key he’d given you.
You’d technically had one since you first moved to San Diego. One that had been for emergencies back when the two of you were just friends. But he���d made a big show of giving you a new one a few weeks back when he’d realized that he’d wanted you to have one as his girlfriend. It was a distinction he’d felt was important to make, it wasn’t a step he’d wanted to miss out on taking with you.
As he’d expected, you’d taken the opportunity to tease him about. “Oh, you love me,” you’d practically sang, as he took the old one off your keychain and replaced it with the new one. But he’d seen the look in your eyes as you traced the shiny new key with your finger when you thought he wasn’t looking.
Bradley hears you drop your things to the floor with a heavy thunk, he can practically feel the withering glare you’re probably giving your work tote and laptop as you kick off your shoes with a clatter one by one.
He counts your soft footsteps, knowing each one brings you that much closer to him. His torso already turned towards the entryway to see you the moment you step into frame.
And then there you are.
Your face just as familiar to him as his own. He’s known every version of you. The girl he’d grown up with, his best friend, the woman of his dreams. Still his favorite person, then and now.
He thinks he sees your shoulders release the slightest bit when your pretty eyes meet his.
Bradley didn’t realize just how parched he’d been for you until he’s drinking you in. It still knocks him in the chest sometimes, that you’re here and you’re his.
“There’s my best girl,” he greets you, hoping to see those dimples of yours.
He can tell you’ve had a long day, an even longer week. You look tired, but you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Jesus, Bradley,” you groan.
He sits up straighter, alarmed. “Sweet girl? What’s wrong?”
You heave a full bodied sigh. “I feel like I’ve been hanging on by a thread all week and then I come here and see you like this? It’s like you want me to have a full blown Victorian Crisis.”
The melodramatic way you fling your arms out to the side would make snort under normal circumstances, if he wasn’t still bouncing between confused and concerned.
Bradley looks down at the comfortable clothes he’d thrown on once he got home from being kicked out of the bar for being- as Fanboy called him- a straight up bummer. All he was wearing was his favorite pair of jogger sweatpants and a soft, worn shirt that he’s pretty sure has a hole under the armpit.
But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. In fact, you’d stolen this particular shirt on more than one occasion. Which now that he thinks about it is probably why he’d gravitated towards it in the first place.
“I- Huh?”
“I mean, look at how much above the ankle skin you’ve got on display over there, Bradshaw.” You point a finger towards his feet, his eyes follow to where the elastic cuff of his pants is slightly pushed up on his calf. “Frankly, it’s indecent.”
He’ll never get tired of that teasing gleam in your eyes. You’re such a menace, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Bradley tips his head back against the couch and laughs. “Should I be worried about your delicate sensibilities, kid?”
“That would be nice since you clearly have no consideration for my poor nerves,” you lament, bringing the back of your hand up to your forehead.
“Should I cover up then?” he asks with a smirk.
“Let’s not make any rash decisions. We’re close enough to the seaside that I should make a full recovery. Salt air and all that jazz.”
He lifts an eyebrow and then tugs up the pant leg on the other side. “How are your poor nerves now?”
Bradley sees you fighting to keep from giving into that grin he knows would take over your whole face if you let it. One that would be wide and bright and just for him.
“I toil all day to earn a living and to help the government fund my boyfriend’s paycheck-” Bradley snorts, amused. “And you tease me? In my delicate state?”
He toys with the hem of his shirt before he shucks it off and tosses it to the side. “How about now? Does this make things better or worse?”
You purse your lips together as if you’re pondering, but he doesn’t miss the appreciative way you’re looking at him.
“Unclear,” you say after a minute. “I think I’m too far away, but also I’m pretty sure my distance vision is officially shot.”
“Can’t have you dealing with a Victorian Crisis and eye strain.” Bradley pats his thigh in invitation. “Why don’t come on over here, that way I can catch you if you have a fainting spell.”
“Such a gentleman,” you say, finally walking towards him.
He bites back a moan at the sight of you shimmying up your skirt in front of him, just slightly higher than it needs to be for you to settle yourself on top of him.
His hands come to rest on your hips as you run your fingers through his hair. And low rumble escapes him as your nails gentle scrape against his scalp. The way he’s so gone for you, just one touch and you basically have him purring like a cat.
You lean in and nudge your nose against his.
“I’ve seen too much of a computer screen and not nearly enough of you this week. And all of this, a lot,” you say, gesturing at him. “You’re too damn handsome for your own good. You’re easily the best thing I’ve seen all day, Bradley.”
He feels his ears get warm at your words and the affectionate way you’re gazing at him.
“Think you’ll need some smelling salts if I kiss you?” Bradley asks. He cups your face in his hand, letting his thumb skim over your cheekbone.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“C’mere,” he murmurs.
Bradley slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you close. You lean into him easily, pliantly, easily. Like being in his lap- in his arms- is the only place you want to be.
There’s no sun flares or orchestral strings, none of the things in those movies you like to put on when you’re stressed or sick. But he knows he can give those ones a run for their money. If there’s one thing he knows how to do, it’s how to kiss you.
He shows you with his mouth just how much he’s been longing for you. How much he needs you. How much he wants you.
Bradley smiles to himself when he hears that hitch in your breath, the way you do when he skims his tongue under your bottom lip. Your arms tightening around his neck as you press yourself against him until there’s not an inch of room between the two of you.
“Missed you,” you hum against his lips. He feels his fingers flex on the soft swells of your hips.
“I missed you too, sweet girl.”
Bradley watches as the corners of your mouth curl upwards, as you twirl some of his hair around your finger. “Oh, I know. Nat texted me a photo of you earlier tonight, you looked like a sad puppy sitting there in the corner by yourself.”
He groans and scrubs a hand down his face.
“But clearly, I didn’t fare much better. The slightest hint of a manly ankle bone and you almost sent me into a state of female hysteria.”
“So, the ankle is what does it for you then, kid?”
“Amongst other things,” you allow, trailing a finger down his chest.
He catches your hand and tangles your fingers with his. “And how are you feeling now? Should I order those smelling salts?”
“I think I’ll manage without them,” you say. “But you should probably kiss me again for good measure”.
“I can do that”, Bradley grins.
He drops kiss after kiss on your cheeks, your nose, your forehead until you’re laughing and smiling with those dimples on full display. Just the way he likes you to be.
Happy and here with him.
306 notes · View notes
hwaslayer · 5 months ago
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love you in slow motion (psh) | five.
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♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡
—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.
—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 9k
—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, implied sexual content, lots of overthinking, crying, mentions of death and death anniversary, friends & family being like ?? 😭, flashbacks, mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex — sorry if i missed anything & if it’s all over the place! i tried to edit as much as i can while im away!! but enjoy & ty for being patient with me 🫶🏼 if you need something different, here is part one of yeosang’s fic!
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Seonghwa doesn't remember when exactly he fell in love with you.
It might've been when you watched all of his football games growing up.
It might've been when you beat up that one kid because he wouldn't stop bothering Hwa for the answers to the homework and called him out of his name unnecessarily.
It might've been when you'd come to his house and sneak through the back door just so you could lie down on his bedroom floor and listen to new music together until you fell asleep.
It might've been when you first got your license and drove him to the hospital and stayed by his side when his fever didn't go down.
It might've been the trip to Hanoi with his family.
Or, it might've been when you sat with him during his first day in 3rd grade at your school, even though he was a child and didn't really know what love meant. He was surrounded by it, and so he was familiar with it. You gave him the same vibes. It must've been, right?
Of course, he had been in relationships. Those relationships did make him feel like maybe, those feelings for you were a fleeting moment; something that would pass, especially since things hadn't changed between you two. He wasn't gonna force it. He might've believed at some point that it was probably all a lie, that he wasn't meant to be with you in the end.
An idea that was way too good to be true.
But, then those relationships would end and he'd be back to square one. And he'd sit there and reflect on everything, revisiting the idea if he was saved for someone else [you]. Truth be told, he did love his exes. They'll always have a special place in his heart. But along their journey, he always felt like this wasn't his end goal— that this instead was the fleeting moment, that particular something that would pass.
In the end, it was always gonna be you.
"So, what happened with Makayla?" Wooyoung asks as he cleans his table and starts unpacking some new supplies that had just been delivered.
"Nothing." Seonghwa shrugs. "Y/N came that morning, ran off, then Makayla kinda knew. I feel so fucked up about it cause she's so nice and understanding."
♡ FLASHBACK
Seonghwa smiles when Makayla steps into his car, her sweet perfume immediately filling the air. Earlier in the week, he had asked Makayla if she wanted to go to a casual dinner and she instantly replied saying she'd love to. It put a smile on Seonghwa's face, which felt nice after the gloomy and upsetting days he'd been having.
He takes her to a casual ramen restaurant in town; it's small, cozy and intimate. They sit at the bar next to each other, taking the time to get to know each other over some hot, comforting bowls of ramen. He finds that Makayla enjoys a lot of similar things; she's outgoing, likes to go on adventures and explore new places, try new foods, would always be down to try something thrilling like skydiving or zip-lining in a tropical place.
Shit like that.
Seonghwa isn't as adventurous but he'd be down, and he likes that about her. On top of that, she's really sweet and laid back. Seonghwa doesn't feel like he has to try and paint this certain image to impress her. He doesn't; he can be himself for the most part, despite the fact that he's still having to try and keep it cool since it's the first time they're hanging out. Even when they finish their ramen, they sit there for another 30 minutes or so just chatting it up— learning more about likes and dislikes, past relationships, you, even.
"Yeah, so there's me, San, Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Y/N. I met San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong in college, and Y/N—" He pauses a bit as he twirls the straw in his cup. "She's been my bestfriend since the third grade."
"That's sweet. So, you guys are all close and everything? Y/N probably knows you the best, hm?" Makayla chuckles.
"Yeah, she does. I guess. We've been through a lot together." Seonghwa looks at her and nods. Makayla isn't one to press more, but she can tell there's a little more to you and what you mean to Seonghwa. Of course, he's not gonna divulge now. Makayla doesn't expect him to. But there's a pause, a silence that falls between them that says there's more to it than he's letting up.
She'll let it be, though. She can tell you are special to Seonghwa.
"That's nice, though. To have someone by your side after all these years. You two are still going strong. I feel like a lot of friendships crumble, or people just get distant because we grow and become different people over time."
"Mmyeah. I think we are. We're just.." Seonghwa shakes her head. "Yeah, nevermind. We're just in our fighting phase but it's not anything we haven't experienced before." He lies to skip out on details. He's torn between telling Makayla the messy ass truth or keeping it on the low— cause honestly, this was a harmless dinner. Seonghwa didn't expect anything out of this.
Maybe he should've just been honest from the beginning but his head is fucking everywhere right now, and he doesn't wanna think about it.
"I see. I hope things get better."
"Yeah, same." Seonghwa lets out a pathetic chuckle before sipping the last bit of his water and standing. "Anyway, ready to get out of here?"
"Sure. Thanks for dinner." He smiles and takes her hand to lead her out of the restaurant.
"Course. Thanks for joining me." It's a bit of a chilly night tonight, Seonghwa and Makayla can see their breath in the air as they walk back to the car together. Seonghwa truthfully is having a good time with her and he doesn't necessarily wanna part ways so soon. He might take this as a distraction, he might use this as a way to get even closer and have something to build off of— he couldn't really tell you what exactly goes through his head at this next moment. He can't lie that it is a good distraction from the bullshit he's been dealing with, and although he doesn't mean to compare Makayla to you, he can't help but say she's been making him feel way better about himself than you lately.
He hates that it even has to come down to this because at the end of the day, life clearly still revolves around you.
Seonghwa tugs the passenger door open and lets her get settled before he hops into the driver's seat. He tugs on his jacket a bit before starting the car and turning up the heat, pulling out his phone to quickly see if there's any notifications he needs to tend to from the boys [you].
"Any plans for the rest of the night?" She shakes her head.
"Nope, none at all. What about you?"
"None. Should we find something else to do then?"
"I'm down!"
"Anything specific come to mind or.. we can hang out at my spot, if you want? No pressure. I can take you home, too. It's whatever you wanna do." Seonghwa looks at her from the driver's seat.
"No, we can go to your place. I'm fine with that."
"You sure?"
"Mhm." She smiles, giving Seonghwa the green light to start up the car and drive back to his apartment.
When they get back to his place, he grabs a bottle of wine and little snacks before popping on a thriller movie she suggests. He plans to keep it chill for the evening. He doesn't plan for anything specific to happen, he doesn't plan for the night to go a certain way. He lets it be; even when Makayla scoots next to him and cuddles up under his arm. Even when his fingers seem to be tracing circles on her arm, even when he suddenly feels the urge to kiss her.
To feel something.
And so one kiss eventually turns into another, and another deep kiss. Then, it eventually turns into Seonghwa tearing off her clothes and vice versa as they rush to his room and get in his sheets. He quickly rolls on a condom and gets her laid out underneath him. He enjoys this, yes— he's not gonna lie. He's a man and he's got needs, that's why he's indulging in every second of this. He fucks her good, deep into the mattress. Makayla's moaning his name and digging her nails deep into his shoulders, whining right into his ear and begging for more of him.
It's an ego boost, and it's making him feel ten times better about himself.
He makes her cum twice that night, from missionary and from behind. He hopes his neighbors don't complain about the noise— headboard lowkey banging into the wall with his name being called out like a mantra.
He has a good fucking time, though. He doesn't kick her out. He lets her stay the night, handing her a shirt to sleep in to feel more comfortable. He holds her and falls asleep quickly, the morning coming not too long after they had fallen asleep together.
Seonghwa planned to sleep in a 'lil bit that morning since he wasn't needed at work until 10am. In his head, he had planned to wake up at his own liking, prep a small breakfast for him and Makayla before offering to take her home on the way to work.
But, his plan is completely ruined when he hears a loud knock on the front door that also startles Makayla awake.
"Are you expecting someone?" Seonghwa's brow turns up as he ponders for a bit. He isn't expecting any packages and he doesn't remember putting in any maintenance requests. So.. no?
"No." He gets up, but Makayla does too and he feels a bit bad her sleep was ruined. "You don't have to get up, you can stay in bed if you'd like."
"No, it's okay. I should probably get up and get ready." He gives her a small smile before walking out, throwing on a white tank top to cover his indecency and tidying up a bit for whoever the hell is on the other side of the door. Who he expected, he wasn't sure. But he sure as hell wasn't expecting it to be you on the other side this early in the morning.
He swings the door open and he's not sure what to say or do, and it doesn't help that Makayla is brushing past behind him in his shirt to gather some of her things.
"Oh." Is all you say, and Seonghwa feels his heart break to a million pieces when he sees the look on your face. You're trying your hardest not to show how much it hurts you, but he knows you. He knows you well, that's for damn sure.
"Y/N—"
"It's good, I didn't meant to interrupt, I'm sorry— I'll catch you later."
♡ END
"I mean, it's not like you were expecting Y/N to come on that morning. Plus, you didn't necessarily lie or do anything behind anyone's back. You tried." Wooyoung feels a little silly knowing he knew about your plan, but he definitely didn't know Makayla spent the night until now. He took a 'harmless dinner' for what it really was; not Seonghwa taking her back home for good times and good vibes in the sheets. Or else, he probably would've prevented you from going on that morning and lied about Hwa's shift time to keep everything as smooth as possible. But, it doesn't make any sense when Wooyoung really thinks about it. Because even if he did tell you Hwa had an early shift and that it'd be better to see him later, would that help fix anything? Which exactly is the lesser evil?
For Wooyoung, he thinks it just had to unfold the way it did, unfortunately.
"Mm. Yeah." Is all Seonghwa says before finishing up wrapping some KT tape on his client. "Makayla was cool, though."
"Took her out and took her home, ey." His client chimes in, making Seonghwa shake his head.
"Thought I'd move on." Seonghwa shrugs.
"Clearly not." Wooyoung snorts, tossing in some fun to brighten the mood. "No, but, honestly. I think it had to happen this way? Instead of it getting too deep with Makayla and Y/N comes back around? Less mess."
"Less mess is always nice." His client chimes in again. "So, what are you gonna do? Does Tyson know about the whole thing with his cousin?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. He hasn't mentioned anything. If he asked, I'd be honest about it." Seonghwa shrugs. He wasn't entirely hiding anything and he likes to think he tried to go about this as normally as possible. It wasn't like he was out to intentionally hurt Makayla. He could never. He just didn't expect things to play out the way that it did, and he could never lie either.
"Well. What're you gonna do now?"
"Somehow talk to Y/N."
"You haven't heard from her since then, huh? Well, I guess since the club." Wooyoung corrects himself.
"Nope. I have not." Seonghwa's bottom lip pokes out into a pout before patting his client on the shoulder to signal that he was finished with the KT tape.
"Damn, Hwa." Is all his client says before walking out of the room, making both Seonghwa and Wooyoung chuckle.
"I really wanted her to take the lead on this one."
"Technically, she did. It just happened to be at the wrong time." Wooyoung shrugs. "Give her a little bit of time before you reach out again. She probably feels really defeated after that. And don't get me wrong, I love you both and the situation is unfair for both ends. But I think right now you two just need the space."
"Yeah. I'm not gonna force anything right now. I just hope she's able to talk to me before jumping to more conclusions."
"Mhm."
"Have you been able to talk to her recently?" Seonghwa fully turns to Wooyoung.
"Yeah, but she's not really saying anything about it. I think Sannie—"
"Sannie.. what?"
"She called Sannie after the whole thing and cried to him about it."
"Oh." His heart breaks hearing that you've cried over him yet again. Maybe Wooyoung was right— maybe you both needed this space after all.
♡ FLASHBACK
"San? Sannie?" You repeatedly call his name over the phone and San is confused. He has just woken up, but he's immediately alert when he hears you crying, your voice trembling on the other line.
"Hey Y/N?" He says in a questioning tone as he sits up in bed and rubs at his eyes. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"I'm so fucking stupid." You quickly start your car and reverse out of the spot to drive off.
"Don't say that, what's going on? Talk to me."
"I just tried to talk to Seonghwa about everything. I was gonna tell him everything, I was gonna be honest. Sannie, I was gonna be honest—"
"Slow down, where are you?"
"I'm going home." You cry and San starts to get up and get ready.
"I'll meet you there and we can talk more, okay? Just please get home safely and I'll be there." You nod even though San can't see you, trying as best as possible to race home in a safe manner. All you wanna do is crawl into bed and cry everything out so you can put on a brave face for work later.
When you get home, you immediately toss your pajamas back on and curl up on the couch. You put on a random movie for background noise, picking up your phone to see the missed calls and texts from Seonghwa.
[seonghwa]: y/n where are you?
[seonghwa]: can we talk, please?
[seonghwa]: just text me back or call me.
[seonghwa]: y/n please talk to me.
You let out a sigh and set the phone aside, not knowing how to respond to him right now. Your thoughts are all over the place, and you're regretting everything that's happened between you and Seonghwa recently. You were too late and this was the price of your actions, reactions, everything.
This is exactly what you were afraid of— losing Seonghwa, even as your bestfriend, for good. Because now, things seem irreparable. Your relationship won't feel the same and it's truly awful.
"It's me, San." You suddenly hear at the door before he lightly jiggles the doorknob. "I'm coming in, okay?" You don't say anything and he proceeds, eyes instantly landing on your form on the couch. "What happened?" San positions himself on the middle of the couch, looking down at you with sympathy. He really does hate seeing you cry— he's hated it since he's known you and grown close to you.
"It's too late. I'm too late. I'm so stupid." You cry, explaining to San about how you finally gained the courage to talk to Seonghwa. You tell San you woke up early and tried to put yourself in a good mindset in order to work through things properly. You tell him about how you got yourself there, ran up the steps and knocked on his door without turning back. You explain the look on Hwa's face, you explain how surprised he was to see you.
You explain how you ran off when you saw her in his shirt.
You explain how your heart dropped, you explain how awful the feeling was hearing him call after you, seeing his texts and missed calls.
"But, he was calling after you. He wants to talk to you Y/N."
"No. I ruined it. He's probably just gonna explain how he needed to move on and tell me shit that's gonna hurt like hell."
"Why don't you hear him out, hm? It could be entirely different, and he might wanna work this out with you."
"We kissed at the club. So after all of this— the kiss, the argument after the fight with Mingi, today—I don't think Seonghwa and I will ever be the same again. I fucked it up." You ramble on and San's slightly having a hard time keeping up cause he's stuck on the fact that you just told him you and Hwa kissed. It's not like he's entirely surprised, it just makes sense as to why things feel too fucking complicated.
He sees why now. But truthfully, as both your friend and Seonghwa's, it's not his place to say anything. The best advice he has is to just let it play out how it should. You'll get your time to talk to Seonghwa. Whatever unfolds from there is what will unfold.
"Hey, don't say that. Please don't." San says softly. "I know everything feels messed up and all over the place right now, but I know Seonghwa wants to fix things just as badly as you do. You're his bestfriend before anything, he'll never let that happen."
"I don't know what to do."
"Why don't you give yourself more time and space? Talk to Seonghwa when you've had a chance to clear your head and gather your thoughts properly." He gently rubs at your back. "This is the best thing you can do for yourself right now. For you and him, maybe." You dig your head into the pillow and release a sigh, almost finding the need to scream at how frustrating everything is.
But, he's right.
Time.
♡ END
"Heard you two kissed at the club." Wooyoung teases Seonghwa, causing him to toss a roll of gauze at his head.
"Shut up."
"Ow, what? It's cute!" Seonghwa glares at him before letting out a sigh.
"It just seems like everything's against us right now." Seonghwa laughs a bit, but deep down, he isn't sure how he feels. He's sad. He's heartbroken. He's not sure if he wanted the kiss to happen purely because of what you two are now. Because even though he knows it's not the only problem, it is probably the biggest.
"Give it time, yeah? You two will talk it out when things settle and it'll get better no matter what that looks like. I know you mean a lot to Y/N, and she wouldn't just drop 16 years of friendship over a silly little squabble."
"Mm." Seonghwa hums.
"Have you talked to Makayla since then?"
"Yeah, and she still wants to be friends. There weren't any expectations so.." Seonghwa shrugs. "At least she doesn't fucking hate me even though I deserve it"
"Dude, again. You weren't intentionally trying to hurt her. It's just a complicated situation."
"Yeah. Anyway. You're coming to my dad's thing right?"
"Of course, the fuck?" Wooyoung laughs. "This weekend, right?"
"Yup."
"Yeah, I'll be there."
"I wonder if Y/N is still coming."
"She will." Wooyoung gives him a small smile. "I know she will."
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The weekend comes quick and Seonghwa is hauling ass from the wee early morning hours to get ready for his dad's retirement party. He's helping fix up the house and the backyard before running to the store to grab more things his mom needs. Though he's not trippin' about being tasked with errands alone, he'd usually have you tag along for company and extra hands. He feels it a lot today, and it's killing him how he can't even do this with you.
He doesn't even know if you're coming, or if you remembered, even if Wooyoung reassured him.
"You're done?" Seonghwa's mom asks, peering over his shoulders as he hauls in grocery bags and a cake.
"Yeup. Why? Don't tell me you need more, ma. I told you—" She playfully pinches him on the arm and furrows his brows while he lets out a low 'ow.'
"Told me what, hm? That's all! I'm not adding to the list! Where's Y/N?"
"What do you even mean?" She crosses her arms.
"You normally do these things with her. Where is she? Is she okay?" He shrugs.
"Sorry, she's busy." She eyes him, taking note of the way he shrinks and avoids eye contact. "Where do you want me to put the groceries and cake? Fridge for now?"
"Mhm. Thank you."
"Where's dad?"
"Showering and getting ready for his special day."
"I probably should do that, too.”
"Y/N is coming, right?"
"Mom, yes." He says in a slightly exasperated tone because he doesn't know the real truth. He honestly just wants to stop talking about you for a second. Just one second. "I'm gonna get ready." He walks off to get ready, sorting through his duffle bag of clothes that he brought over.
His mom likes to tease him, even though deep down, she gets sad when you two fight. It's not even just the fact that you welcomed him so warmly when he was the new kid in town, it was the fact that she has never seen Seonghwa connect with someone so well. You've always pulled the best out of him, and you were always there to make him laugh, to make him happy. Despite all the troubles you've endured, you've always treated them with respect and you've always shown love even if your own life felt like it was lacking of such. This didn't feel like any other fight she's witnessed between you two— call it mother's instinct, but she knew there was way more to it than Seonghwa wants to let on. She just hopes that whatever it is, you two can pull through. She knows you both are stronger than that.
When Seonghwa gets showered and throws on some better clothes fit for the occasion, he helps his mom and dad get the house clean and tidy for the party. His dad had officially retired, and Seonghwa was happy he could finally rest. Enjoy the things he loved doing. Spend more time with his mom. He helps put up the decorations around the house, fixing up the backyard and getting the grill ready for the food. Wooyoung, Hongjoong and San are one of the first to arrive, along with his relatives. They immediately start drinking and enjoying themselves, playing music and grilling meat to start kicking things off as more people trickle in.
Wooyoung briefly offers to take over the grill while Seonghwa heads into the kitchen to pull out more of the fruits and non-alcoholic drinks for his cousins and relatives that don't drink. He's busy setting things aside when his mom's loud scream startles him, his eyes immediately diverting to the source near the front door.
"Y/N's here with Yaya, Soyeon and Charli!" Seonghwa's mom lets out an excited yell when she sees her favorites walk through the door, throwing her arms around you for a big hug. Seonghwa turns from the kitchen, watching as you greet his family members that immediately swarm you at the entry. You happily greet his dad near the living room, giving him a big hug and congratulations for his retirement. It's the first time he'd be speaking to you after everything, let alone seeing you. He tenses up a bit, but he doesn't ignore the excitement he feels seeing your face, your smile. You're in a white denim maxi skirt and a black off-the-shoulder top, and Seonghwa can't help but stare.
"Hey!" Soyeon playfully punches him on the bicep and pulls him out of his thoughts, with Chacha screaming at the top of her lungs right next to her mom. "Chacha, jeez." Yaya laughs when she hugs him first.
"She sure loves her Uncle Hwa."
"Uncle Hwa!" She continues to scream, making Seonghwa laugh and swoop her into his arms. He gives Soyeon a one-armed hug before placing a kiss on Charli's temple.
"Chacha!" He matches her excitement. "Missed you, pea." He turns to Soyeon. "Junseo's at the restaurant?" She nods.
"Yep! Holding it down like always." She laughs. "He wanted to be here, though." She turns to Charli. "Baby, let's go eat first? You can play with Uncle Hwa after." Charli whines but doesn't fight it, making Hwa promise time after time that he'll play with her after she finishes her food. He does, anyway. He'll do anything to keep that smile on her face.
At this time, you finally make your way to the kitchen and Seonghwa isn't sure how to act. You give him a tiny, toothless smile before throwing one arm around him, clearly avoiding eye contact as much as possible.
"Hey." Seonghwa says, hugging you back. "You drove with Soyeon and Yaya?"
"Mhm."
"Should've told me so I could've picked you guys up."
"It's okay, Hwa." You give him another reassuring smile before grabbing a cup to fill up with some of the fruit juice his mom made. "Is everyone else here?"
"Yeah. Outside in the backyard. Food is out there, too."
"Thanks." You say, sipping your cup before walking out to the backyard. Seonghwa lowly groans to himself when he realizes he's being dumb, maybe slightly afraid, to talk about everything that's been happening.
Maybe it isn't the right time, either. But, he hates being this way with you. It feels terrible, and he wants nothing more than to just be okay with you.
"Are you and Y/N okay?"
"Ma, we're fine. I promise."
"Park Seonghwa if I find out that you've done something to her—"
"I didn't do anything!" He almost squeaks when he responds. "What about me, mom? How about 'are you okay, Seonghwa?'"
"I ask you all the time and you always give me the same answer!" She responds in a higher tone, but Seonghwa knows she's teasing just to push his buttons. "You never want me in your business anyway!"
"Whatever." He sighs and shakes his head, walking out to the backyard to hang out with everyone. Everyone old enough to drink [and isn't driving] raises their cups high for a big toast before knocking some soju back. Seonghwa catches up by taking the shot Wooyoung hands him to the neck, making a face at the bitter brand of soju they've decided on.
You've parked yourself in between Hongjoong and San, with Yaya, Soyeon and Charli sitting nearby as they eat their food. You have a plate in hand while you laugh along with San, Hongjoong and Wooyoung poking fun and making faces at Charli nearby. Seonghwa plops onto the empty bench space next to San, sipping on his drink while watching his cousins play in front of everyone. San sees you shift in your position a bit, now paying more attention to Charli, Wooyoung and Hongjoong, while Seonghwa continues to quietly sip on his drink. San isn't gonna lie— he feels a bit awkward since the tension is coming from both ways. But, he brushes it off anyway; trying to keep everything as normal as possible to keep the party running on a smooth note.
"Uncle Hwa." Charli comes in front of him with a huge smile on her face.
"Yes?" He gives her the same smirk, setting his cup down onto the table. "Finished eating?"
"Ya. But, mommy says I can't play yet."
"30 minutes!" Soyeon yells from her seat.
"She's right. You need to let your food settle." He pokes at her tummy and pulls her onto his lap. "Here." He hands her his phone to play on.
"Uncle Hwa." She calls for him again as she watches him pull up her favorite game.
"Mhm?" She puts up her tiny hands near his ear to whisper something so incredibly confidential:
"Are you and Titi Y/N fighting?" He chuckles.
"A bit, but we'll be okay."
"Why?" She pouts at him.
"Just grown up things, Chacha. We'll be okay." He repeats.
"You promise?" She's still whispering and Seonghwa's heart melts when she puts up her pinky for a pinky-promise. "Titi Y/N loves you. Don't be mad."
"I'm not mad." He wraps his pinky around hers. "Promise, okay? Here." He passes her his phone once the game loads.
"Uncle Hwa, I wanna play with your legos." She plays Mario Kart Tour furiously on his phone.
"Which one do you wanna play with?"
"Any." Seonghwa laughs and nods, carrying her as he stands to grab his legos from his stash in his old room.
"Let's go find one, hm?" You watch as Seonghwa carries Charli with ease into the house, remembering the night you two spent with Charli a few weeks ago. Feels pretty distant, and it hits you how sad your situation with Seonghwa is right now. You quickly shake off your thoughts and stand from your seat to throw your trash away and grab another drink, grabbing more trash from the group when they see you making your way inside. You toss the paper plates away, engaging in small talk with Seonghwa's cousins as they pass in and out of the house. You pour yourself another cup, getting slightly startled by Charli zooming out of the house screaming in pure happiness while holding one of Hwa's small lego sets.
"That girl talks in screams." You mutter to yourself. "Oh shit." You look at the small spill to the side of your cup, letting out a sigh when you reach over for a napkin—
"Here." Seonghwa cocks a brow up when he hands you a napkin. "Can always count on you to make a mess, I guess." You roll your eyes at his sarcasm and snatch the napkin out of his hand to wipe up the spill.
"Thanks." Seonghwa continues to stand there, awkwardly watching you clean up the spill. You turn to him once more, furrowing your brows in confusion. "What?"
"We're just not gonna talk about it?"
"We're not doing this right now." You look at him. "Not at your dad's retirement party."
"Then when, Y/N? You're just gonna leave everything like this?"
"I don't know, Seonghwa! I guess so, cause I'm definitely not doing this now." He lets out a hefty sigh before slowly nodding his head.
"Wow, so you're fine with—"
"Stop." Seonghwa licks his lips and purses them together before breaking eye contact first. It's the easiest comeback he has, and he's not sure why he feels so angry, so triggered, right now. It's probably because he wishes you had just talked to him before the party. It's probably because it's been too long and he's not even sure where this leaves you two anymore. It's probably because he misses you and wishes he could just hug you. Call you. Text you. Do everything that he used to. Regardless of the kiss.
"Alright." Seonghwa says, surrendering and waving the white flag. You catch the way his jaw slightly clenches when he tears his eyes away from you and breaks eye contact. It does break your heart, and you hate that this is what you two have become. But, you weren't gonna do this on his dad's special day. Not at his dad's party.
"Excuse me." You grab your cup and Seonghwa steps aside to let you walk out first. He follows suit, shutting the sliding door behind him. Your friends and Soyeon don't fail to catch how bothered you two look even though you try to keep it under wraps, continuing to keep distance even as the afternoon goes on.
While Charli continues to play with the lego set in between playing with Seonghwa's baby cousins, you, your friends, and Seonghwa's relatives engage in more drinking and karaoke. Seonghwa and his mom take a moment to say little speeches over the cake, congratulating his dad for his retirement and for reaching a milestone in his life. You go about the party as normal as possible, keeping the energy and the good vibes alive even though it truly feels the worst not being able to genuinely be happy around the people you love the most.
You knew it was time to talk to Seonghwa soon, and that he was waiting for you to do it. He had been waiting for you, and god knows how disappointed he must have been in you.
Everything just feels so fucked up, and you feel so torn about everything. You wish you could just run away and hide from it all, even though you equally wanted to fix this and figure out where you two lie in all of this.
What about Makayla?
Was he still seeing her like that?
That's probably the one thing you were most afraid of. Seonghwa was your bestfriend. Despite all of this, you should be happy with whatever he chooses. He deserves it. He didn't deserve what you gave him at the club or how you failed to be honest about your feelings. This was all because of you.
As the evening arrives, you and Soyeon plan to leave in the next half hour due to Charli getting restless. As you pack some food to go for the both of you, Seonghwa's mom rushes over to you and puts her hand on your back. She looks at you lovingly like she always has, a soft smile on her face.
"Come here really quickly.” Her hand laces with yours as she shows you to their room. "I was cleaning up the garage the other day and found these photos and videos." She hands you some old photos of you, your dad, and Seonghwa and his dad while out. You flip through them, feeling the tears welling up in your bottom lids.
You missed your dad so, so much.
There were even photos of you and Seonghwa on the playground, photos of you and Seonghwa laughing while on a family trip, photos of you and Seonghwa hanging out in each other's backyards. Photos of you, your dad, Seonghwa and Seonghwa's dad together.
"This, too." His mom slips an old VHS tape into the VCR and you giggle a bit at how long it's been since you've watched something on tape. A huge wave of nostalgia immediately rushes over you as you gently place the photos down and watch the video of you and your dad during the fourth grade trip to the local zoo.
"He truly adored you more than anything. You will always be his little girl." She says and you start crying. Seonghwa's mom leans her head on your shoulder, and you lean onto her; silently enjoying the footage together. All of this was perfect timing, and you knew Seonghwa's mom did it for a reason. Your dad's death anniversary would be coming later in the week and it was everything you needed to find some comfort.
"I miss him."
"I know he misses you, too."
"Thank you." You look at her and give her a toothless smile. "Can I take these pictures?"
"Of course! Want the tapes, too?"
"Is it okay if I keep it here? I don't have a VCR." She laughs a bit and nods.
"Yes, absolutely." She rubs your arm before pulling you into another hug. "I'm glad you came out today."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"You and Seonghwa seem to be fighting." She makes a face that makes you laugh. "What happened? What did he do?"
"Nothing. It was me. We just got.. into a disagreement, I guess. It's my fault though, and I just haven't been able to talk to him to apologize."
"You two will be fine."
"I know." You give her another tiny, toothless smile. "I hope." The two of you sit together for a little longer, taking in the rest of the photos before you wrap it up and head back out to the party.
At this point, your friends are taking their leave, with Charli laying on Soyeon as her mom holds her. She hands you the bags of all the food you packed for yourself, Yaya and Soyeon, saying your goodbyes to everyone still around. You save Seonghwa for last, giving him a tiny smile as he pulls you into a full-armed hug. You embrace the hug, pressing your cheek against his chest before he pulls away and looks at you.
"Wait." He says, holding you by the shoulders. "Have you been crying?" He looks deeply into your eyes and takes note of your wet eyelashes. You brush it off and look away, shaking your head as a response.
"No, I haven't." You brush past him to finish saying bye to his parents before rushing out the door to your own family. Seonghwa furrows his brows and looks at his mom, realizing she also has wet lashes and just looked like she finished crying.
"Were you and Y/N crying together?"
"I showed her some photos and videos with her dad that I found in the garage." She shows him the date on her phone and it’s enough for Seonghwa to understand what it means.
"Oh. I see." Is all he says. "Was she okay?"
"I think so. She can always say she's okay even though deep down, she's not." She puts her hand on Seonghwa's arm. "I don't know if it'll ever get easier for her."
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"Goodmorning Hwa! Have you heard from Y/N yet? I wanted to ask her something but she hadn't texted me back and her phone is off. I think I might know why, though." Seonghwa lets out a breath and licks his lips before responding.
"I see. I'll check." He says. "I got you."
"Thanks. If you do see her, tell her to call me later when she's up for it."
"I will." And with that, Seonghwa cuts the call. He looks at his watch before devouring the rest of his breakfast, grabbing his bag and heading out the door much earlier than expected. It's a crisp, cold day. Somewhat of a drastic change compared to the days they've been having. Seonghwa can see his breath in the air, and he's regretting the light windbreaker jacket he grabbed as he rushed out the door— hoping it'd get warmer.
But, it doesn't.
He has to be at work in a bit, and he's probably even gonna be late. He's just concerned about you, and even though things still feel weird, awkward— he knows he needs to be here for you. Especially during this time.
And Seonghwa's timing couldn't be any more perfect. Because although today isn't the exact day of your dad's death anniversary, it's in two days and you never know how to prepare. Lately, you've found yourself avoiding the exact day, visiting your dad’s grave a few days earlier to say some words, say your peace. Cry and reminisce. When the day comes, you try to keep yourself busy. You work and you work, and you spend time with Yaya, or Soyeon, or even Seonghwa's family because it's the love you need to surround yourself with. As much as you love them all dearly, they aren't your dad and it never gets easier. It's an unbearable pain you can't even describe. It doesn't go away. It just sits there, leaning onto your already-broken heart and weighing heavily on the surface.
You've been quietly sitting at your dad'd grave, fingers tracing over his picture. You smile whenever you see his bright smile, his eyes holding all the irreplaceable love in the world. You're not even sure how long it's been since you got here, maybe an hour or two. It's cold, but you don't want to leave. You want to spend as much time as you can being here even though it is hard.
You continue to cry and slowly fix the flowers around his grave and other offerings. You set one of the framed pictures of you, Seonghwa, and your dads onto his grave before crying, and crying some more. Suddenly, you feel someone drape a jacket over your shoulders, and with the circumstances, you would've been spooked if it were any other day. But, you feel at ease. You feel comforted. You feel completely fine because everything feels familiar. Your feelings are confirmed when Seonghwa wraps his arm around you and pulls you close.
"It's cold, how long have you been out here for?"
"Awhile."
"You should've called me." Is all he says before there's a brief silence that falls between you two.
"I always think it'll get easier." You mumble as you wipe away at your tears. "When a new year comes, I always feel like it'll be the year I'll finally be able to process this and say my peace to it." You start breaking down again and Seonghwa sits still, silently listening to you cry. "But, it never turns out that way. It just gets harder."
"It's an unbearable pain that doesn't go away. I'm sorry it had to be you, and I wish it didn't turn out this way. I wish it wasn't like this for you." Seonghwa says lowly as he continues to hug you and keep you close. "Your dad is always here, watching over you. And I know he'd be so proud of you for being so strong and overcoming all the adversity that came your way."
"I just miss him, Hwa. I really wish I could hug him again. I'll never forgive myself for taking advantage of all those chances and for being too comfortable."
"Y/N, this is the sort of tragedy that you can't control. It's awful, but you would have never known. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. You did your best as his daughter, and I know he appreciated every moment until the end. I know he felt your love through everything." You cry onto his shoulder, letting everything that you still have left in you out. Seonghwa continues to hold you close, hand rubbing up and down your arm as his cheek rests on the top of your head.
"You really didn't have to come, pichu."
"And let you do this alone? I don't think so." You shift in your position to look at him. He gently takes a thumb underneath your eyes, wiping away at your tears.
"Can we talk? At my place?"
"Yeah. I'll come as soon as I'm done with work, okay?" You nod and Seonghwa gives you a tiny smile. The two of you sit in silence for a little longer before you're saying your goodbyes and heading your separate ways.
"By the way, Soyeon wanted to ask you something." He dips his head. "Call her when you get home." You nod again. "Drive safely for me." He taps your door frame before shutting it close and heading to his own car. You watch in your mirror, waiting for Seonghwa to step into his car before you drive off and head home.
Getting home, you immediately wash up, get into comfier clothes and call Soyeon to check in with her when you see her texts. You agree to picking up a few extra shifts throughout the week to cover for Jini finally taking some time off for personal reasons. You hang out on the couch, putting on a reality TV show you had already finished— you figured it'd be good for background noise. Filling up the emptiness of your space. You end up taking a long nap, waking up close to dinner by Yaya calling you into the house to share some food with her. It felt nice catching up on sleep, since you weren’t able to get much the night before. You spend most of your early evening with Yaya, helping her clean up around the kitchen before you retreat back to your place and pick up your phone when a text goes off.
[seonghwa]: need anything for dinner?
[you]: no i ate already, ty. just get yourself something!
[seonghwa]: okay. i'll be over in a few mins
You tidy up even more as if it's the first time Seonghwa is coming over. But, you feel nervous all over again. You feel like every inch of your apartment has to be clean in order to prep; overall, it feels like nothing can really prep you for whatever will go down tonight between you and Seonghwa and this is only helping distract you from that thought. You just hope it ends on a good note.
"Sorry it took me a little longer, had hella shit to do for the trainees today." You shrug as you look at him from the couch, wrapped up in your blanket.
"It's okay."
"What'd you do when you got home?"
"Hm, clean. Nap. Eat dinner with Yaya. How was work?" He shrugs.
"Tiring." He plops next to you on the couch. You notice he's drinking a protein shake, with nothing else in hand.
"You didn't get anything to eat?" He shakes his head.
"I'm not really hungry."
"Hm, okay." You hum. "Thanks for still coming over even though you had a long day." He looks at you and gives you a toothless smile.
"Course." You scoot a little closer and he continues to watch you. He watches the cute little frown on your face build— staring at him all doe-eyed and it makes his heart flutter.
"I'm sorry for everything, pichu. I didn't mean to get mad at you that night the fight broke out. I just didn't wanna see you hurt and I'm stupid for not pushing Mingi away. For finding excuses. You shouldn't have to save me every single time and I'm sorry it has been that way over the years." You tilt your head. "I really am sorry, and I didn't mean to make things more complicated especially with the kiss. I probably ruined things with Makayla—"
"We're just friends." He chimes in. "We're just friends and you didn't ruin anything."
"She was at your place? In your clothes?" He nods and chuckles a bit.
"Yeah, cause things escalated for one night. I'm not gonna lie. But, that's really it. She knew.." Seonghwa looks at you and shakes his head. "Nevermind."
"No, tell me. She knew, what?" You place your hand on his and gentle shake it.
"She knew the way I felt about you, especially after that morning."
"Oh."
"I guess she could just tell."
"I'm sorry, Hwa." He clicks his teeth and caresses your cheek.
"Stop saying sorry. Nothing was ruined. Everything's good between us and we're still friends."
"Where does that leave us?"
"You know what I want. What do you want?" You look at him for a moment, really look at him, and he's patiently waiting for your response. His big, brown eyes are holding hope, holding love, holding every bit of affection he has for you— even though he's trying his best to keep it at bay. At this moment, you couldn't even question how Seonghwa felt for you because it's overflowing from his look alone. He really wanted you. He really wanted to give you the world, if you'd let him.
"I'm just scared, Hwa." You say, close to a whisper— bottom lip trembling. He lifts your chin as he scoots closer, keeping you close and warm while his big, brown eyes peer into yours with pure adoration. There's a mix of worry, concern, but he knows better than this. He knows you two are better than this.
"I am too, I have been for a long time. But, please trust me when I tell you that I'm here and that I'll never leave your side no matter what. I'm here, Y/N. I want this, I want you. I have always wanted this."
"Don't lie."
"You know I hate liars." He chuckles a bit.
"I feel the same, Hwa. I do.”
"Yeah? You're with me? Genuinely?" You nod. "I need you to be sure of us, Y/N."
"I'm sure. I'm sorry I ever doubted you or questioned it, but I'm sure." You shed a few more tears while Seonghwa chuckles a bit. "Hey." You whine. "I'm serious!"
"I am, too." He smiles. "Stop crying, you look ugly when you cry." He teases and you smack his arm. "Just come here." He says, pulling you closer and lifting your chin up. "I got you, okay? I got us.”
"Okay."
"Is it okay if I kiss you?" Seonghwa asks, close to a whisper. You quietly nod, watching as he dips forward and closes in for a kiss. It's soft, it's sweet, it's light. It makes your lips tingle, it makes you feel all sorts of butterflies. Before Seonghwa can pull back, you immediately chase after his lips— asking for another, just deeper, more intense. It quickly builds without having to do or say much; Seonghwa's large hand cupping your cheeks right before you straddle his lap, careful not to break the kiss. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, background noise now also being filled with the sound of wet kisses. Small whines and whimpers. Seonghwa's hands fall to your ass, giving it a good squeeze when he feels you slowly rock against his already-hard cock.
"Fuck." He hisses just as you suck onto his bottom lip and tug back on it. "Hold onto me." He demands as he swiftly carries you, letting you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He drops you onto the bed and continues to kiss you, making his way down to your jaw. Neck.
"Gonna ask again.” He places a kiss on your jaw. “Sure about this? Us? If you want me to stop, I'll stop." You shake your head as Seonghwa continues to plant kisses wherever he can, thumb fiddling with the hem of your shorts.
"Keep going." You reassure him through a quick cheek caress when he stops and stares. "Please. I’m sure."
"Okay." He whispers before dipping in for a final kiss on the lips. The both of you continue to shed off your clothes, tossing them at different points in your studio. "You're still on birth control, right? I'm clean."
"Mhm." You barely respond before you let out a small gasp when Seonghwa's thumb run down your folds, feeling for how wet you are already. He presses at your sensitive nub, biting onto his bottom lip when he sees how you easily respond.
"So wet already." Your mouth waters when Seonghwa finally sheds off his boxers and pumps himself a few times. When Seonghwa tugs the covers up and slightly hovers over your body, he teases you for a few minutes by running his tip up and down your folds. He lets out a small moan before slowly breaching your entrance, sliding in with ease because of how wet you are.
This whole thing feels so raw, feels so new, feels so.. meant to be.
So perfect.
Like fitting in the last piece of a 1000-piece puzzle.
Seonghwa slowly works himself into you to adjust to the feeling, his mouth slacked open against yours at how good, how perfect, you feel. He finds a steady rhythm, your legs cocked open for him as he dives deeper, and deeper— hitting you in all the right spots. Seonghwa thinks the feeling is indescribable. It's the fact that the person he genuinely loves is underneath him, the person he genuinely loves has admitted in feeling the same about him, about this. It's the fact that everything feels so, so right.
It makes everything about this exciting, more pleasurable.
"God, you feel so good—" He groans. "Baby, fuck." The pet name sends shivers down your spine, eliciting a loud moan to slip from your lips. He picks up the pace, fucking into you rougher, faster.
"Seonghwa—" You whine. He sits up, hands splayed out on your thighs to keep them spread open while thrusting into you. He watches as you shut your eyes, back arching in pleasure, teeth biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from moaning too loud. "Mm'close." You mewl as Seonghwa's hips become a little sloppier, his movements rough and hard. You start to move your hips to match his movements, tipping closer and closer over the edge with every move, every moan, every kiss. Suddenly, you still as you let out a loud moan of Seonghwa's name— a huge wave of pleasure, ecstasy, washing over your body. Seonghwa takes the opportunity to chase his high, hips stuttering just as he releases his seed into you shortly afterwards. A strangled, deep moan leaves his lips as he presses wet kisses against your neck, jaw, lips.
"Y/N." He looks at you, brushing the hair away from your face.
"Hm?"
"I love you."
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♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @laurenwidjaja @taz-97 @asjkdk @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs
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butmakeitgayblog · 5 days ago
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Hi yes hello help me I have a new fic idea for this picture
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And it's giving me brainrot because I have too many wips and yet... I must write this ficlet. It's very soft. Friends to lovers.
Lexa owns a little holistic shop that always smells like incense and fresh herby plants. Fresh sprigs of flowers and dangley charms everywhere. Not quite "nature child/granola sister" vibes because it has too many sleek and modern details to it, but still very earthy and calming. Clean and fresh. It's tucked away in a sleepy little town along the coast that's just a short walk to a pier, so the fresh scent of the ocean's spray always mingles with all the perfumes of her shop.
Clarke moves there following the death of her father. Not running from anything, but more just trying to find herself in her new found peace. She's faced her own mortality and come out the other end understanding who she wants to be vs who she thought she should be. Exchanging her med school white coat for cable knit sweaters. Sneakers for deck shoes. Reading glasses for wayfarers.
Chaos for calm.
Which of course leads her right into Lexa's shop a few weeks into getting settled, deciding a new skin routine may be in order as well. Maybe a new lotion and a few handdipped candles to line her fancy new bath tub too, if the hand painted sign outside the shop is to be trusted.
Of course all chances at being the chill, solitary new girl in town who lives quietly and keeps to herself kind of fly right out the window when she hears the little ding of the bell overhead and looks up to see brilliant, soft green eyes already crinkled at the edges in a welcoming smile. Seeing all that sun kissed brown hair pulled back in a delicate crown of braids, the waterfall length of untamed curls falling over strong but slender shouders. Hearing that lyrical voice that's not at all chipper like she'd expect from someone peddling holistic wares. Instead it's soft and vibrant, more like too-warm honey that's been left out in the afternoon sun. Feminine but sure of itself as she merely bids a simple, "Hello, can I help you find anything in particular?"
All that chill is also nowhere to be seen when this freaking angel made of droplets of sunshine and chamomile takes it upon herself to squeeze a dollop of the lotion she'd been eyeing into Clarke's palm and start massaging it in with hands that are so fucking soft Clarke forgets how to breathe. Her intense eye contact as she gently explains the ingredients and why they're so good doesn't help either. Not that Clarke could be PAID to recite any of it, not having taken in a single damn syllable.
She could easily tell you the exact slope of the woman's eyelashes though. Could probably draw the freckle on her upper lip from memory too.
Of course Clarke would leave 2 bags and the shopowner's business card heavier, $70 lighter, and with absolutely no qualms about trading in at least part of her medical knowledge for giving this holistic stuff a try.
And that's it! That's all! Just a pretty girl who is maybe slightly nuts but beautiful and sweet who runs a little holistic beauty shop.
Nothing life altering or anything for Clarke, obviously.
Clarke being new and so in her head about everything and all the changes? It's just A Lot already on her plate. She doesn't have the space for anything else.
But... then there's just Lexa. So unassuming and mild and calming in her presence. Undemanding of Clarke's attention despite always seeming to have it. That slow fall into each other over too prolonged eye contact and friendly waves as Lexa glances at her through the arching windows of her shop, Clarke seeing those plump lips tug up into a grin that mouths an amused but unheard "Hi" as Clarke walks past for the third time that day.
Total coincidence.
But the friendship blooms just like the little plants and sprigs around Lexa's shop. Taking shape and growing as the season changes.
Passing glances and friendly waves turning to chance meetings and slipping away to sit on the bench at the end of the pier, splitting batches of seasoned fries and garlic aioli that Clarke has no idea where Lexa manages to put considering all her halter tops and sundresses that, whew, just leave not much to the imagination.
Walking through a local garden/woodsy path and talking aimlessly for hours as she watches Lexa collect little wildflowers and clovers along the way, stowing them in a satchel she keeps in her long flowy pants, only to drop by the shop the next afternoon and find that the tiny wood nymph-turned shopkeeper has braided her treasures from their outing into her hair that day.
Walks along the rocky beachside and lunches sat huddled together in the park. Lexa sharing how she got into her business and Clarke relaying her past in the medical world just to falter, only to breathe a sigh of relief at Lexa's lazy grin, "Don't worry, Dr. Griffin. I still believe in the power of penicillin."
Lexa showing Clarke where she makes her wares while standing far too close than what's necessary as she lets Clarke peruse everything. Always catching Clarke's gaze in her excitement at Lexa's creations, holding them with that soul-quieting smile of hers.
Clarke noticing how Lexa's scent changes slightly with the seasons because of course Lexa only works with fresh product. Noting how as the months get colder, she goes from airy, delicate lilac scents to heavier sage and sandlewood notes. Fresh pine, peppermint, and holly. Noticing how cute little painted toes trade in their freer sandles for more sensible uggs and the occasional snow boot, seeing how dresses and spaghetti straps get exchanged for cardigans and knitted sweaters big enough to juuust effortlessly slip off her shoulder...
(Still no bra)
(Not that she's... keeping track...)
Lexa is just so unexpected and so... not at all anything Clarke would've ever thought she'd be attracted to. Beyond just her stunning face that is, obviously. It's her personality. She's not someone Clarke can easily "put in a box". She's not quite a hippie, she's not exactly new agey, she's certainly not weak, but she's not overbearing. She's maybe a liiiittle bit nuts, but also so fuckin smart and not cocky about it at all. But absolutely is cocky about the silliest things, like being good at Scrabble and knowing how to fold a fitted sheet. (Again, liiiittle bit nuts.) She's kind, but not a pushover. Soft in ways Clarke can't even begin to fathom or calm her heart over, but so deceptively strong, both in body and spirit.
And she's quiet. Quiet and reserved in her perfectly Lexa way. Yet, when she does open up, there's so much there. So many layers to her, and every time Clarke thinks she's gotten to the bottom of the question mark that is "Lexa", there's a whole new labyrinth to uncover.
The connection between them expands and blooms and becomes something entirely its own. And it kind of just gradually dawns on her that Clarke has somehow managed to find her best friend in the entire world... and has promptly fallen in love with her.
Now.
If I wrote this obviously very short ficlet (😤), would anyone read it?
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