#so i took one day off to wait on line for the rose and one day off for two doctors visits and a band concert all in one day

[roseband]

going to nola in a couple months to expunge the stupid hoard of pto i have (cheapest week for flights of the year too! and it didn't affect either me or my fiance's work's busy time)

bc of my roll over next year i'm gonna have 5 weeks.......oops? i'm going to have to spend 4 weeks of it next year

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Picture of a Cat.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After months of emailing back and forth, you finally meet the person you've been chatting with every day. Then you realize that Spencer is not just a girl's name.

Words: 2,7k.

Warnings & Tags: forensic!reader. with spencer of the early seasons very much in love in mind. the reader has a cat and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and maybe lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This is pretty chaotic and not particularly serious😭 It might be best not to try to make sense of it. They're just two idiots in love, really.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

To say that Spencer was dying of nervousness was not enough to describe his true feelings.

From the moment he woke up this morning without any mail from you in his inbox, he began to feel that his day was going wrong and that it was becoming an endless nightmare. He had lost count of all the times he had checked his mail at work, hoping to see even a one-line message from you to calm his anxiety.

As someone who had received your good morning every day without fail for the last four months that you had been talking to each other daily, he was completely taken aback and couldn't quite put his finger on why. Perhaps he had said something to offend you, or maybe you were just not feeling the spark anymore. But astonishingly, none of your numerous emails that he had taken the time to reread on the jet indicated any cause for concern.

Everything had been so positive with you recently, and he was grateful to have someone to talk to, even if it was through a computer, every time he finished a challenging case and his mind just wanted to focus on something else. He found great comfort in reading about your day and your thoughts every morning, as if it were his newspaper. Even the pictures you always sent him of your cat sleeping in cute poses, eating, or doing anything else made him smile and gave him the idea of adopting a pet, even when he had never thought about the possibility of it before. You always helped him realize some desires he hadn't previously considered.

But suddenly he didn't have any of it. Nothing at all.

Reid's gaze fell once upon the computer on his desk, and his face was illuminated by its light as he reopened his email page for what might have been the thousandth time that day. His fingers tapped over and over on his knee in an attempt to calm his nerves as the page loaded at a slow pace. He took the opportunity to look at the time on the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. It was ten o'clock at night, and yet, once again, there was no trace of you among his messages.

His heart stopped for a second when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, and he had to close the page he had opened on his computer at full speed before he could even realize who it was.

“Hey, take it easy, kid.” Derek said gently, removing his hand from his shoulder and stepping back a step. His eyes fell on the computer screen, and he was intrigued. “What were you watching?” He asked, with a playful smile.

“N-nothing.” Spencer's voice trembled beyond his control, and he quickly rose from his chair, trying to shield the computer with his body.

You had been his best-kept secret for quite some time, and he was content with that. He enjoyed the idea of maintaining a certain level of privacy in that aspect of his life, as something just between you two. It was more special and romantic that way.

“Nothing? Is that what they call those things now?” Derek inquired, his tone teasing but not unkind. The boy blushed a little, unsure why. “I must admit I'm surprised.”

Reid had to think for a few seconds to figure out what his colleague was talking about, but even before he could understand, Morgan had started speaking again.

“Anyway, turn that off.” He said, pointing to the computer and settling his bag over his shoulder, ready to go. “Someone's waiting for you in the boardroom.”

Almost automatically, Spencer frowned and watched him, waiting for him to provide more information or at least laugh if he was making a joke. However, that didn't occur. Derek didn't laugh at him or anything of that nature.

“Go, Reid. It might be best not to keep the girl waiting.” He gave his friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile before heading off on the way to the elevator.

A girl? Waiting for him? How?

Spencer took a moment to collect his thoughts, attempting to grasp the meaning behind Derek's words and the circumstances surrounding the supposed visitor. With a measured pace, he stepped away from his desk and proceeded down the hallway, heading for the boardroom with a contemplative demeanor.

As he opened the door and cautiously stepped inside, he was met with the most glorious sight of his life, the one he had waited so long for, the one that now quickened his pulse and seemed to bring him back to life after feeling dead all day.

You.

Standing at the table, looking intently at the various maps and data scattered around the round table in the center of the room. So deep in thought that you were not even aware of his presence. As pretty as in the pictures of you that he had seen.

He couldn't help but let out a little "oh my" at the sight of you. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he could hear it from across the room, or maybe his ears were just ringing from the blood rushing to his head. Reid stood still, looking at you, amazed. He could see how the light touched your hair and how you bit your lip as you concentrated on organizing the papers and a folder in your hand. It was real. It had to be real.

“Hi.” His voice suddenly startled you, making you realize that you were no longer alone and that the door was now open.

You look up from the documents you are examining and see him by chance. It takes you a moment to realize that he works there, and only by the FBI badge in his pants pocket.

“Hi.” You responded after giving him a very obvious visual scan.

Your voice.

It was the first time he'd heard you speak, and it was just as he'd imagined it would be.

“I’m-” You extended your hand in a cordial manner to introduce yourself, but he interrupted.

“I know who you are.” He spoke quickly, smiling at you. “I...I...you are...” Reid cursed himself for stuttering the sentence as his tongue suddenly felt too heavy in his mouth.

“Okay…I'm waiting for someone.” You said it politely, but your tone showed your anxiety.

Oh, you didn't know it was him.

Spencer let out a laugh to relieve the growing tension, but it came out sounding like a cough. He wanted to hit himself. Why was he acting like a child? He was an agent, for God's sake. His job was to talk to complete strangers every day and do entire profiles without getting nervous. He found it hard to understand how that was changing so much now. He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak more clearly.

“Yes, I know.” He replied, sounding a bit nervous. His voice was a little shaky, as if he was straining to get the words out.

“Do you know if this person is coming?” You were standing there with your arms crossed, trying to see if anyone else was coming after him.

At that moment, a look of confusion came over his face. It had not even crossed your mind that it might be him. And although it was to be expected and totally understandable since you had never seen a picture of him, Spencer still felt a twinge of pain and insecurity inside. Perhaps you expected him to look different, or at least not look like a kid playing federal agent.

Maybe it would have been helpful if he had sent you a picture of himself when you sent yours. That way, you might have had a better idea of what to expect. But you were very understanding of his insecurities and lack of comfort with the photos at the time. So he thought everything would be fine anyway…he was so wrong.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before speaking up. “Actually, it's me.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to hide how nervous he was, with little success.

As soon as he said it, you looked surprised, your mouth slightly open, and then you laughed.

“That's pretty funny.” You said it with a slightly uncomfortable smile. When you realized he wasn't laughing, you added, “Good joke.”

Seeing your reaction, Spencer felt the urge to shrink back and disappear, as if that action could erase the last few seconds of your memory and also erase the feeling he suddenly had of having screwed up in an unfamiliar way. He felt his chest tighten as you asked him again if the person you were waiting for was coming. Was it so hard to believe that he was the person you were talking to? The one who earned your trust and affection?

“I spent several hours on a plane, so please let me know if your colleague is coming.” You spoke again, your tone conveying a hint of disappointment and fatigue. “If I'm a nuisance and Spencer doesn't want to see me, I'd appreciate knowing that.”

Hearing you say his first name gave him an unexpected shiver. It sounded so pleasant and intimate. He took another deep breath and forced herself to speak clearly.

“Wait, he does want to see you.” He paused for a moment, realizing he sounded a bit ridiculous. “I mean, I do. I'm Spencer.”

You're momentarily taken aback, unsure if the guy in front of you is joking. His nervous expression suggests otherwise, and you even entertain the possibility that he might be crazy.

Oh my goodness, you were all alone on a practically empty floor of the FBI offices with an insane agent.

“Just let me know if she's coming or not, please.” You said, taking a few steps back to be at a safe distance from him.

His mouth was so dry he could only manage a soft, hoarse whisper. “She? Did you think I was a girl?”

“You?” You furrowed your brow, feeling more confused and uneasy.

At last, he had a suggestion and reached into his pocket to retrieve his badge, holding it out to you in a gesture that seemed to convey innocence.

“I’m Spencer Reid.” He said, his voice betraying a hint of awkwardness as he was caught off guard by the peculiar turn of events.

You looked at the badge, confused, and slowly looked up, looking into his eyes closely for the first time. You studied his face intently, not really believing it.

“Are you Spencer? My Spencer?” You asked.

When you said “my,” he felt a flutter in his chest. His brain was trying to tell him not to get too invested in the moment, but the vulnerable part of him was moved by the way you said it, like he was all yours. There was a special air of affection there that he liked.

“Yes.” He replied, almost in a whisper. “I am.”

You had to take a moment to process the information, eyes glued to his as you tried to make sense of it. Little by little, you come to understand. This was the person you had been talking to every day for months—the person with whom you had shared your fears, stories, and dreams. Yet you hadn't even asked him for a picture or a call—anything that would have made you realize that he wasn't a woman. It seems almost unreal to you to have fallen into such a confusion.

“I sent pictures of my cat to a man?!” Was the first thing you thought, and it managed to come out of your mouth clearly, in an indignant tone. “I said you were my soulmate!”

Now you were the one who sounded insane.

He stood there for a few moments, looking at you and seeing the different emotions on your face. When he finally spoke, his voice had a hint of insecurity in it.

“Yes…but your cat is cute, and you take good pictures.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit nervous. “Did you know that the evocative power of images is widely studied? They can help us verbalize and even rescue forgotten memories and stories from our collective memory and-” He silences himself. “Sorry.”

When he fell silent, your brain couldn't do the same, and thousands of hard-to-filter words began to appear. You had a strange feeling in your chest, a mixture of familiarity with the way his ramblings sounded to you, just like the emails you loved so much, and confusion about the whole situation.

“This is so strange.” You said to yourself, pacing around the room a couple of times. “I was so stupid-”

He observed you with great interest, trying to discern the thoughts and feelings that were likely swirling in your mind. He could empathize with your confusion, as he was also uncertain about the circumstances. He couldn't blame you for feeling bewildered. You had embarked on your journey with the expectation of meeting a girl named Spencer, but instead, you encountered him. You had envisioned a lovely girl, and you found him—a simple individual, a nerd who had been told on numerous occasions that nerds lacked charm.

“No. You're not.” He said, attempting to manage his desire to bridge the gap and offer solace. “It was a misunderstanding. I should have provided you with more information.”

“How would you even start a conversation by saying you were a man?” You let out a laugh to yourself. “I would have stopped talking to you instantly.”

The sentence hit him right in the heart.

The two of you had the opportunity to communicate by mail when your boss asked you to send reports on several of the autopsies with similarities you had done to the BAU. It was then that a picture of your cat was sent in the middle of the files. Spencer was the one who received it and made an attempt at a joke after your long apology. And then another, and another, until you ended up talking for four months until now.

But if you had known from the beginning that he wasn't a woman, you wouldn't have bothered to get to know him at all.

“I...I don't know what to tell you..” He admitted, sounding a little more vulnerable. “But why did you think I was a woman?”

After a moment's thought, you said. “Your name made me think of a girl I knew in college. And you...you were so nice and sweet in your emails that I found it hard to believe that a man could be like that through a screen.”

When you shared how you perceived him through his emails, it seemed that a certain vulnerability came to light. The situation had turned the tables, and now he was the one standing there trying to process the information.

“I thought I finally had a friend. You know what my job is like...and yours is just as all-consuming.” You spoke again, having to sit for a moment in one of the chairs in the place, trying to calm down. “It would've been great to have someone who understood me as a friend.”

He felt a pang in his heart at your words and was instantly reminded of the times you'd confided in him about how isolated you felt in your lab, surrounded by dead people and computers.

“You can still do that.” He replied without thinking. “I’m still the same person as before, just different packaging.”

For you, it was much more than that. First of all, you trusted him in the beginning because you thought he was a girl; that's why he understood you so much and you had that special connection.

Hell, you'd even told him how bad your period was, and he'd understood so well. He'd given you tips and facts that you didn't know that were beyond your expectations of what the average man knew.

“I mean, I'm still someone you can talk to.” He continued, his hands moving nervously in his pockets. “Unless you...unless you don't feel that way anymore.”

When you finally spoke, your voice sounded almost whispery and gentle. He couldn’t help but lift his gaze from the floor to you, feeling how his body relaxed just a bit with the soft sound of your voice.

“No, no. I still want to talk to you…if you’re my Spencer.”

“I am, all yours.” He replied with a smile.

[loveesiren]

Mile High Club - R.C.

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Rafe get a much needed vacation but they can't even wait until they land to begin. (Please ready Baby Daddy parts one & two first!)

Warnings: Smut, nursing kink, language

Word Count: 1.4k+

You'd never been on a plane before. Taking off made you nervous but Rafe held your hand the entire time and soon enough your face was lit up in awe as you watched the world below you from the window.

Juliette was only four months old. Convincing you and Rafe to go on a trip, let alone take a break, was a challenge.

"Nope. Absolutely not. I'm not leaving my daughter." Rafe argued with his parents, bouncing Juliette on his knee.

"You two never do anything for yourselves. You guys deserve some time alone." Ward said, Rose nodding beside him.

"You guys are exhausted. Just take a few days, go to the Bahama house. We'll take care of Jules." Rose added.

You looked over at Rafe and your baby. Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin line at the thought of being away from his daughter. Jules smiled up at her dad, the sight melted your heart. You couldn't imagine being away from your daughter either but some time alone with Rafe did sound really nice.

"I don't know, babe...maybe we should. Just for a few days?" You suggest, running your fingernails over his bicep.

It took some convincing but Rafe finally agreed to three days in the Bahamas. The two of you were practically thrown out of Tannyhill so John B could drive you to the airport. Going back to give Juliette more and more kisses, making sure she had everything she needed, promising to Facetime multiple times a day.

Ward and Rose laughed. You were first time parents, a feeling they remember all too well but they assured you Juliette would be fine and happy with her grandparents and aunts.

Now you were flying high in first class, sipping champagne and snuggling up to your boyfriend as you watched the clouds go by. You both agreed to try to relax and not worry. Ward and Rose raised three kids and with Sarah, Wheezie, and John B all happy to help, you knew your daughter was in good hands.

You shifted uncomfortably as your breasts started to ache.

"You okay, baby?" Rafe asked, pressing his lips to your temple.

"Yeah, just gotta pump." You tell him, reaching for your bag to grab what you need before unbuckling your seatbelt to head to the bathroom.

Rafe has a shit eating grin on his face.

"What?" You ask.

"Can I help?" He asks, licking his bottom lip.

"Rafe, we're on a plane." You whisper.

"Mhmm," He hums, leaning into you to speak against your lips. "And I need to help my baby momma out." He presses a soft kiss to your lips and grabs your hand, pulling you to the back of the cabin to where the bathroom was located. He quickly opened the door, pushing you inside gently and quickly closing the door behind the two of you before anyone could notice.

He grabs your hips and lifts you onto the bathroom counter. The bathroom was small, Rafe wasn't able to stand up fully but that didn't matter as he was leaning down to press kisses to your jaw.

"Rafe-"

"Don't need this," He muttered, tossing your breast pump to the side. You were nervous, you didn't want to get caught doing this in an airplane bathroom but you couldn't deny the heat growing between your thighs.

He tugged at the hem of your tan top, lifting it off over your head and tossing it to the side before fiddling with the clasp of your bra, placing wet kisses over your skin.

"Fuck, Rafe..."

"Keep saying my name, baby." He demanded, letting your breasts free. "Shit..." He whispered, palming your swollen breasts.

"Rafe, I n-need you to-" You muttered, hooded eyes as you leaned your head back against the mirror.

Rafe didn't hesitate to latch onto your nipple, drinking from you harshly as he massaged your other breast.

You sighed in relief as he sucked. This nursing kink of his had become a common thing. Ever since he helped you out that first time he just couldn't get enough. You found yourself reminding him that you had a child to feed as well. But you had to admit, this was way more enjoyable than pumping.

You wrapped your fingers in his hair, digging your nails into his scalp as his fingers trailed down your body. He lifted your skirt and moved your panties to the side, slowly running a soft finger against your dripping core.

"Please," You whispered against his ear.

Rafe sucked harder as he plunged two fingers into you. You yelped at the sensation and he quickly brought his other hand up to cover your mouth. You arched your back beneath him, grinding against his fingers.

He finished draining you and quickly moved to your other breast, pumping his fingers into you harder and bringing his thumb to rub circles in your clit. You could feel him growing hard against your thigh and you knew as soon as he was done nursing, he'd be fucking you in this tiny airplane bathroom.

Your eyes rolled back as the knot in your stomach built up. Rafe hummed against your nipple as you came on his fingers. "Good girl..." He whispered against your skin and you were grateful for his hand over your mouth because you couldn't control your moans.

"Feel better, my love?" He asked as he finished drinking from you.

You smiled and nodded as you came down from your high. "Thank you," You whisper breathlessly.

"Wanna join the Mile High Club?" Rafe smirks, leaning in to kiss you.

You stared at him through hooded eyes and smiled, nodding your head eagerly.

"Use your words, mama," He says.

"Yes. Please, Rafe..."

Rafe smiles before grabbing your hips and pulling you from the counter, turning you around so you could watch him fuck you from behind.

He ripped your panties down and palmed your ass, spanking you roughly. You yelped once again.

"You gotta be quiet for me, mama," He says. "Don't wanna get caught, do you?" He asks, placing wet kisses down your back.

"I'll try," You whine.

Rafe thrusts into you and you try to stifle your moan, but he was hungry for you. This wasn't like the normal love making you were used to back home. This was new and exciting. It reminded you of when the two of you first got together. All the late nights of Rafe fucking you like his own personal whore. The way you ended up pregnant in the first place. The way you fucked before you fell in love with him.

Rafe pounded into you roughly, biting into your skin to control his own grunting. You hadn't realized you were being loud until he once again clasped a hand over your mouth.

You gripped the sink tightly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hadn't been fucked like this in so long. You looked in the mirror, meeting Rafe's feral eyes as he tried not to cum yet. But you knew he was close, and so were you. With the way his skin slapped against yours, the wet sounds of your pussy filling the small room, you couldn't hold on much longer. Then, turbulence hit and it had you bouncing against him harder, sending you over the edge.

You began to vibrate as you clenched around his cock, sending Rafe into his own high. You felt him spill inside you and the feeling was euphoric. The last year and a half you'd spent with this man had you falling more inlove every day.

"Fuck, baby girl...I can never get enough of you." Rafe said, leaning against your shoulder as you both tried to catch your breath. "I'm gonna fuck you in every room of this house, and on the beach, and in the plane home, too."

You bit your lips at his promise. The thought of having Rafe to yourself for three whole days excited you. No crying, no tending to a teething baby at 2am, no siblings barging in on you. Just you and Rafe Cameron. This was a dream.

Rafe helped you clean up and get back into your clothes. You both hurriedly fixed your hair in the mirror before sneaking out of the bathroom and heading back to your seats. You noticed one of the flight attendants staring at you with a knowing look. You avoided her gaze but Rafe proudly slung his arm over your shoulder, smile wide on his face, completely satisfied with his life in this moment.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[moonchildstyles]

very indulgent pussy eating blurb for pretty girl from Prosecco pls! I need to read him absolutely going insane w the thought of eating her out and then getting to do it!! ♡

wordcount: 7.2k+

—————

Hooking his fingers into the waist of her skirt, a smug smile crossed Harry's features at the feel of the layer of goosebumps that prickled (Y/N)'s skin. The tip of his nose skated along the column of her throat as he began easing down the fabric.

"Don't know how I let y'leave on time this morning while looking like this," he murmured, his words dripping and seeping into her skin. He felt a little too accomplished when she felt her hands tighten on his shoulders. 

"Shouldn't have," she told him, her voice matching the quiet of his bedroom, "I could've skipped my morning classes to stay with you."

Harry couldn't help the laughter that fell from his lips, smiling up at her from where he was making a point to slowly ease her skirt down her legs. "You'll take any reason to skip class, pretty girl." 

A gentle smile took her features as she shrugged down at him. Harry only shook his head before he laid all of his attention out on her body, dotting kisses down the curves of her form as he moved her skirt to catch on her ankles. Helping her discard the garment, he flung it to join the pile already on the floor consisting of both of their shirts and her cardigan. He didn't waste a moment before settling his eyes on her near-bare form. 

Down to only her bra and underwear, she was a vision in his bedsheets. Her chest was nearly spilling out of her bra from the amount of times he had pushed the cups out of the way to kiss at the swells and leave his mark. Though, what had his attention captured and unwilling to let go, was the sight of her soft thighs spread apart and the pair of pearly, satin panties tucked between—completely mismatched to the rose toned cotton bra she had on. From where he was sitting, he could see a small wet spot decorating the underside, giving away just how eager she was to have him. 

His cock bloated in his pants, urging him forward with a near-drooling mouth. He'd never had his mouth between her thighs before, always a little too giddy to have his cock inside instead. Today could be the perfect day to take his time with her, get to know more of her body and what else he could do to make her float away for him. 

"So pretty, sweetheart," he murmured to her, fitting his hands on the soft curve of her waist, "Prettiest I've ever seen." 

He didn't have to look at her to know that she was biting back a smile, gazing at him with a pair of heart eyes that he never grew tired of. He focused on planting his lips to the soft of her stomach, just under the line of her bra before working his way down. His fingertips grazed the thin sides of her panties, attempting to work them down her spread thighs as he kissed down her body. 

It was when he started pulling down her underwear, hitting a bit of a lag with how drenched her center was that her panties clung to her form, that had Harry's breath catching. He couldn't wait to get his mouth on her.

Before he could get very far, only kissing down to her bellybutton, (Y/N) moved her hands from where they were on his shoulders to land on his cheeks. Her fingertips dipped into the curls on the sides of his head, her grip gentle as she directed him upwards. 

"Just want you," she told him, curling her body in order to meet him halfway and press her lips to his in a distracting kiss.

While he was a bit disappointed to have been pulled off track, he wasn't going to argue with her if this was one of her boundaries for the night. Instead of resuming his trek down her form, he settled on parting his lips just so and allowing her tongue to tangle with his. 

"Y'have me, pretty girl," he murmured into her mouth, helping pull her panties down before fitting his hips between her thighs. 

His disappointment didn't last very long, not when she could feel that wetness he had been craving now pressed against the ridge of his cock. He'd taste her another night.

—————

Throwing his head back, Harry felt a dreamy smile land on his lips as he breathed out a sigh. With his eyes shuttered, he sunk further into the couch cushions with his legs spread and his pretty girl on her knees before him. His hand in her hair tightened, clumsily ensuring no stray hairs impeded her vision. 

"God, sweetheart, gonna make me cum so hard," he groaned, forcing himself to peel his eyes open to get a look at her. 

With her hair pulled back, Harry could see every plane of her face, every shift of her features, and flutter of her lashes. There was a shine to her eyes that always appeared whenever she dropped to her knees for him, glimmering every time she looked up at him through the fan of her lashes. Her skin was warm, cheeks and chin slicked with her own salvia and his pearly precum. Her glossy lips were snug around his cock, only the barest remains of her glitter lipgloss having survived him pushing into her mouth. 

He couldn't help to moan at the sight of her, practically melting into the cushions. Widening the spread of his legs, he pushed her head down that much more with his grip on her hair. Just the very tip of her nose grazed the thatch of hair at his base. She gagged the smallest bit around him, throat contracting while tears collecting in her eyes like stars. Instinctively, Harry went to pull back, allow her space to breathe, but she stayed just where she was with her hands stationed on his thighs, nails digging into the plush skin. She paced her breathing and leveled herself out before she looked at him with her watery gaze. 

"So good, sweetheart, so good" he praised breathlessly, scratching his fingers at her scalp in a soothing run, "Doing so good for me. Y'like doing this for me?" 

With his mouth dropped in a gape and his breath coming out in puffs, Harry could only watch as she pulled off of him. His cock bobbed in her face, slick with her spit, a string of salvia connecting his tip to the pillow of her bottom lip. Her mouth was swollen as she looked up at him, her hands squeezing the flesh of his thighs as she shuffled forward—as if she couldn't be close enough then.

"I love it," she breathed, voice crackling, "I love making you feel good, H." 

Canting his head, the beginnings of a smile touched at his features. His hands in her hair were gentle as he directed her forward just enough to press her swollen lips to his cock. "I know, pretty. Y'always make me feel so good, y'don't even know." 

(Y/N) had the nerve to look up at him bashfully through the frame of her lashes as she puckered her lips against the head of his cock, kissing at him just like he taught. It was like watching his own personal performance the way she gave everything to him in order to make him happy. His own little movie star, he thought with a tense in his abdomen.

He watched as she dragged her tongue along the underside of his length, taking a moment to tongue at his balls like she knew he liked. She took him into her mouth as deep as she could all while he watched as her raptured audience. 

Seeing her face slick with his arousal and blissed out, there was a part of him that wanted to pull her from his cock and to fit his head between her own thighs instead. He hadn't been able to get the thought of going down on her out of his mind since he fantasized over that wet spot on her panties days ago. He wanted to be the one with a swollen pout and slick on his cheeks; he wanted to give everything he could to her, wrap his lips around her clit and dig his tongue inside her. The thought had his cock flexing in her mouth, a blurt of more precum seeping out. 

Maybe he could have both, he thought—he could have her on his face while she sucked his cock at the same time. His hands tightened in her hair at the thought, a moan of her name fell from his lips. He felt breathless when he tried to tell her as much, that he wanted to try something with her before he came. 

(Y/N) seemed to be spurred on by his actions, doing that much more to make him cum down her throat. Before he could warn her, heed her to stop now before he would be too spent to do anything special for her, she readied herself with her nails digging into his thighs, taking him further. He could feel the slide of her tongue over his shaft, the closing of her throat around his tip. Where she couldn't reach, her slick hands came to take care of him. 

"Sweetheart—shit—I—" he choked out, his eyes fluttering to a close despite how badly he wanted to watch her. His hand in her hair could do nothing more than tighten among the strands, every bit of his energy and attention being too spent on the coiling in his stomach.

It didn't take much for him to succumb to the pleasure she was giving, his balls drawing tight to his cock just before he felt the first spray of his cum down her throat. She gagged around him, the tight muscles drawing that much more of a reaction out of him. A melody of moans fell from his mouth, mixing with (Y/N)'s own rumbling ones he felt more than he heard. His thighs tensed on either side of her, his cum mixing with the slick saliva of her mouth. 

He wasn't sure how long he sat there with his breath robbed from his lungs, flooding her mouth. By the time he had more on his mind other than how good the warmth of her mouth felt or how deeply he swore he was feeling his release, (Y/N) was doing nothing more than delicately sucking on the head of his cock, licking over his slit. 

With his eyes refocusing in the present, he could see the white remains of his cum on her tongue. The sight had his cock jumping in her hand. The reaction had a small smile decorating her face before she drew away completely, looking up at him with pride despite her disheveled appearance. 

"That was a lot," she quipped, her voice a bit stilted as she dropped her cheek to lay against the cuff of his knee. 

A plume of laughter fell from his lips as he shook his head at her. Raking his fingers through her hair, he rolled his lips between his teeth, still thinking about the fantasy that pushed him so direly over the edge despite knowing he didn't have the energy to execute it anymore (that was thirty-five for you). 

"It was, yeah," he smiled at her, curling down towards her until he was capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Jus' for you." 

"Thank you," she peeped, drawing another peal of laughter from him. 

"C'mere, pretty girl," he beckoned, drawing away just to welcome her onto his lap.

Careful of his softening cock, she settled on his lap with her thighs astride his hips. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him with her eyes fluttering closed. 

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured into her hair, dropping a kiss to the crown. 

He could feel the smile blooming on her cheeks at his appreciation. "That's just as much for me as it is for you, honestly," she told him, amusement tinting her tone.

Though he was sure she was trying to get him to laugh with her, the implication had him rolling his neck until his head was thrown back against the back of the couch. His eyes shuttered as he recalled the unfulfilled vision of her sitting on his face with his mouth between her thighs. The idea made his cock ache.

God, he needed to eat her out—and soon.

—————

Harry couldn't tear his eyes off of (Y/N)'s body and the way the shimmering fabric of her dress clung to her form. The short hem fluttered around her thighs, shifting just enough as she stepped through her apartment to show off an extra inch of her skin for him to feast his eyes upon. His cock grew thick in his trousers, the fabric tightening as he attempted to keep his focus on the night's plans instead of making new ones. 

"I'm almost ready. I just need to do a couple more things," she prattled as she passed him by, feet still bare with only a single earring in and her hair half done. 

"Take your time," he told her, barely registering his own words as he swore he could spy the line of her panties through the fabric of her dress. He knitted his fingers together in his lap, a tactic used in hopes of keeping them to himself. 

It wasn't until she passed by his spot on the couch another pair of times, looking a touch more put together with her tiny dress fluttering around her body, that he lost his fight. She had her shoes of choice in hand when she padded by him, saying something about needing a couple of more minutes when he reached out and hooked his arm around her middle. She was stopped in her tracks, looking at him with wide eyes. 

"I'm almost done, I just n—"

"I know, I know," he told her, brushing her off in favor of dropping his hands to the soft give her thighs. "Just let me look at you a little. You've been running around, barely letting me see you before you're gone again—it's not fair." 

Sliding his hands up the hem of her dress, he could feel the goosebumps that pebbled over her skin. The length of his fingers hit the waist of her panties, digits hooking into the line.

Pushing her hand through his hair, she canted her head. "We're already running late, H. I think Tawny's gonna be mad." 

Harry shook his head, dropping a kiss to her plush thigh, his nose skimming the end of her dress. "She'll be fine. Jus' tell her I got sick and I can take care of you instead." 

Peering up at her, he waited for her permission before he would take down her panties and push her dress up. She was rolling her lips between her teeth, her hand in his hair pulsing. 

"We did that a couple of weeks ago, though," she murmured, an apology already swimming in her eyes. 

Shrugging, Harry flexed his fingers on her hips. "They won't notice." 

Releasing her glossy pout, (Y/N) offered him a soft smile before she started shooing his hands from underneath her dress. "You know they will. Let's just go, and we can leave early and come home. If you still want me, you can have me then." 

Harry relented then, drawing away from her core and dropping his hands to a more appropriate station on her legs. "Alright," he petulantly sighed, reveling in the small laugh she rewarded him with, "I suppose I can wait." 

"I'll make it worth your while," she promised, bending down to press her lips to his pouted ones with her hands cupping his jaw, "Let me finish and then we can go, honey." 

"I'll be here," he said, sending her off with a pat to her bottom as she bent to collect her shoes from the floor. 

He couldn't manage to tear his eyes from her as she padded back to her bedroom, folding his hands in his lap with his palms buzzing from her warmth.

—————

Harry's hand sat gently on (Y/N)'s thigh, his palm a cuff around the curve. Opposing his soft touch was the tick that had his jaw clenched shut. His throat bobbed every time he chanced a look at her from the corner of his eye. 

Tawny's get together had been just as eventful as Harry had figured. It was full of wine glasses, "homemade" snacks (she has never learned to throw away her takeout boxes), and bubbling chatter. He learned from Sarah that she and Mitch had started talking about the possibility of babies, Tom and Jenny were going away for a month-long trip to Greece later in the year, and Charlotte was planning on hosting an open mic night at her café (and pleaded with almost everyone to get them to come so it didn't completely flop). He had been little more than (Y/N)'s accessory at times, clasping her hand in his and dutifully following her around as she flounced about and talked to anyone and everyone. He wasn't much in the mood for socializing after shoving down his desires back at her apartment—he would much rather trail behind her, getting an eyeful of her ass and the sway of her hips. 

His mind hadn't drifted far from what he had been desperate to do before having to leave for Tawny's. He was eager to end the night; watching her and giving innocent touches to the small of her back or on her hand weren't enough. It was the worst when she had scooted by him when everyone had migrated to the couch, (Y/N) sidestepping around him as she used his shoulders to steady herself, leaving his face level with the soft of her tummy and just where he knew the line of her panties laid under her shimmering dress. He'd had to collect a throw blanket to drape over his lap afterwards, feigning a want to share with and warm (Y/N) when she settled at his side once again. 

As much as he loved his friends and seeing (Y/N) bubble and chatter among them, by the time the two hour mark approached on their stay, he was ready to get out of there. After a slew of too-long goodbyes and a suspicious glance from Mitch, Harry had his arm around (Y/N)'s waist as they made it out the door. 

That was how he found himself here, not paying enough attention to the road with his pants too tight for comfort. 

"Are you okay? You're being really quiet," (Y/N) murmured by the time they pulled up to her apartment complex, her hand came to rest atop his own. 

He could feel her eyes on him as he steered them towards his unofficial parking spot. "'M alright, sweetheart. Jus' really want to get y'inside." 

Whatever she saw in his darkened gaze had her own features softening, a giddy smile on her lips. "Really?" she chirped, attempting a discreet glance at his lap. 

His lips folded into a lopsided smile as he squeezed her thigh. He leaned across the console, leveling his gaze to hers with a brush of his nose against the bridge of her own. 

"As if you didn't know," he teased, quickly pressing his lips to hers in a deft kiss before he was releasing his hold with a pat to her leg, "Now, c'mon. 'M tired of waiting."

Harry felt a little too smug when she didn't immediately follow, stuck for a moment in her spot with her eyes blown wide. Rounding the bonnet of the car, he met her at her door before she had a chance to push it open. He helped her steady on the asphalt, the point of her heels teetering on the uneven surface. 

Hooking his arm around her waist, he escorted her up the open staircase leading to her apartment. With his mind occupied, thinking about the soft cotton of her panties he had felt up earlier in the night, the trek felt like nothing to him. (Y/N)'s fingers fumbled some as she unlocked her door, surely feeling the weight of his hand on her hip and the heat of his gaze tracing over her profile. 

Stepping over the threshold, (Y/N) turned to Harry as he locked the door behind them, her eyes bright and a bashful smile on her lips. 

"Let me take off my makeup, and ch—" 

Surging forward, Harry used his grip around her waist to press her back into the wall before sealing his lips to hers in an urgent kiss. He was sure she had an idea of what she thought he wanted tonight—another replay of her splayed out on his bed with her legs spread and his cock sinking inside her—but he had a different craving that he doubted she even realized. She melted into his kiss after a lag of surprise, her hands floating up to settle on either side of his jaw. The length of her nails caught on the baby hairs bordering his hairline. 

Parting his lips, Harry deepened the kiss with his tongue swiping out to draw a line along the seam of her mouth. (Y/N) didn't hesitate before matching his intensity, welcoming his tongue inside her mouth with a delicate moan. Slick sounds filled the entryway to her home, matching the parting and meeting of their lips over and over. He didn't care to be particularly composed as he doled out his affection, the twisting of their tongues messy and clumsy with how badly Harry wanted to put his mouth all over her. Every sigh she breathed in his mouth, every drag of her nails through his hair, every heave of her breasts against his chest had him crumbling that much more. 

Trailing his mouth down, smearing his kiss over the curve of her chin to the line of her jaw, Harry followed all the way down the column of her throat. The lower he went, dropping towards the neckline of her dress, he could feel how heated her skin was, chest heaving as she caught her breath through kiss-swollen, saliva-slicked lips. 

He dropped to his knees in front of her, feeling his pulse thrumming as he gazed up at her from his new position. A lopsided smile landed on his lips when he saw the way she looked down at him, instinctively reaching for the curls crowning his head, threading her fingers through the waves. 

"W-We can go to my bedroom, an—" 

Harry shook his head before she could finish. "We're going to stay right here, sweetheart." 

With that, he grabbed one of her ankles and shifted to kneel in front of her. He placed her heeled foot on his bent thigh, working his fingers into the clasp that held the strappy piece around her ankle. Peering up at her through his lashes, he could see how intensely he held her attention doing nothing more than a simple task he'd done for her plenty of times over. A bit of pride had him straightening his shoulders. 

He had her right where he wanted. 

Shucking her shoes off, sending her back to her original height, Harry didn't make any move to get up. Despite the way she tugged at his hair, urging him to stand up and continue with the mess of kisses they had started, Harry stayed right where he was. He could kiss her for the rest of the night if she wanted, but he needed to take care of this first. 

With how hard his cock was in his pants, a blurt of precum having wet the fabric of his briefs, diving between her thighs was going to be more for him than her.

Planting his mouth in a searing kiss on the plush of her thigh, he started a new expedition in adoring the rest of her body he had been so awful to ignore before. Goosebumps raised on her skin as he plucked his teeth against the soft skin. His palms skated up the curve of her legs, following the line of her form just as he had until he was edging under the hem of her dress. He dragged his lips over her thighs, never fully parting from the flesh before he pressed another languid kiss to her skin. 

"Harry," she sighed the call when she felt his nose skim the fluttering edge of her dress, lifting it up with another kiss being placed on the newly-bare skin. 

"Wanna take care of you, pretty girl," he murmured to her, his words dripping over her skin and down the length of her legs, "Always make me feel so good, want to do that for you now. Can I, sweetheart?" 

"A-Are you sure?" she asked, eyes softened and trained only on him. 

His hands plunged under her dress, landing on the waist of her underwear with his fingertips teasing the elastic. More of her thighs were put on display from the lifted fabric, but the front swath hung perfectly over her modesty, concealing her from his eyes despite his best efforts. Harry nosed at where her clit was nestled away out of his sight, feeling her hips tense under his hands. 

"Been thinking about it all week, pretty girl. I think 'm very sure," he grumbled against her, "Y'can't distract me this time." 

Her skin warmed, her pulse bubbling. "I just wasn't sure—you-you've never... before, so." 

Harry shook his head, a frown of disappointment settling on his lips as he gazed up at her. "That's no good, huh. Haven't been very fair of me to not take care of you and eat your pretty pussy out like you deserve—especially since you're always so sweet to me, darling." 

"It's okay," she told him, her bottom lip being plucked between her teeth, "I know you love me." 

Harry's features softened and molded into a tender smile. This time the kiss he dropped on the bare of her thigh was made of nothing but pure affection. "I do love you—very much. Can I show you how much?" 

The eager nod she gave him was the permission he needed before Harry was finally shucking her underwear down her legs. He helped her step out of the fabric before he unceremoniously stuffed them in his pocket. Settling as comfortably as he could on his knees, Harry flicked his gaze up to watch her reaction just before he pushed her dress up.

Her pussy glistened in the light, her lips puffy and soaked. Her fingers in his hair pulsed just before she widened her stance that much more, revealing more of herself to him. While it was far from the first time he'd seen all of her body, this moment felt more charged than any before. 

He truly did feel bad, hearing what she said. He didn't like that she had just assumed she was one of the many that didn't believe in going down on their girlfriend, that it was something he wouldn't even try with her. The assumption was far from the truth and something he planned on banning from her mind after tonight. 

Leaning forward, taking advantage of her spread legs, he planted his lips on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Can't believe I've never tasted you before, love. Y'look so sweet, you know that?" 

"M-Maybe," she answered, her voice a shaky whisper from above, the heat of her gaze following his movements. 

"Maybe?" he teased, skimming his lips that much higher before starting from the beginning on the opposite thigh, "Have you tasted yourself before, pretty?" 

Harry was sure that if he could reach her cheeks, he would have been able to feel the heat bubbling under her skin at his question. "Um, once or twice," she sheepishly admitted. 

His mouth broke into a grin at her admission. His briefs were going to be sporting quite the wet patch if she kept this up. 

"I don't blame you," he mumbled into her skin, reaching the softest part just a breath away from her pussy, "I don't know how y'keep your hands off all day long. I could spend hours right here, darling." 

Inhaling a heavy breath through his nose, he caught the scent of her arousal. He had a hard time dragging his eyelids open afterwards, sinking that much more into the moment. 

Closing that small, teasing distance, Harry offered himself some mercy and planted his lips directly onto her clit. It was a loving kiss, his lips puckered and giving just the way they would have been had he been kissing her mouth. A small yelp left (Y/N)'s lips at the contact, her muscles bunching under his palms. 

Peering up at her through the frame of his lashes, Harry pushed another budding kiss to her clit, this time watching the look on her face. He saw her eyes attempt to close, lashes kissing her cheekbones, with her mouth dropping into a small gape. A pinch appeared between her brows, the same way they always scrunched when she was attempting to concentrate on something. 

The thought had the very corner of his lips plucking into a slight smile. 

After planting a slew of kisses on her clit, feeling her pulse jump against him, Harry dropped his hands from her hips to slide around to the backs of her thighs. His palms cuffed the soft skin, fingertips denting into the gentle curve as he pushed her towards his face, angling her hips just so. Throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, her slit parted to match the splaying of her hips, revealing her flushed sensitivity. Her core was sticky wet, waiting for him. 

(Y/N)'s breath caught at the first spread of his tongue through her slit, matching the rumbling groan that came from his chest. Harry had to fight to keep his eyes from shuttering as he sunk into the moment—into the taste of her on his buds, into the feel of her weight on his shoulder, the pulsing slickness of her opening. Something deep in his stomach was quelled finally after getting his first taste, urging him to indulge more and more now that he finally had what he wanted right in his hands. His fingers pulsed around her thighs, keeping her steady on her feet and pussy presented for him to do as he pleased. 

The flat of his tongue slid through her slit over and over, collecting her wetness and reveling in the heady taste that was her before swallowing. The tip teased her hole, dipping in in hopes and catching more of her taste right from the source. He could feel (Y/N)'s toes curl behind his back, her heel pressing into his spine to urge him into giving more. He smiled around his ministrations as he zigzagged his tongue over her pussy before he focused back on her clit. 

Kissing at the bud, he spoke as best he could without lifting his mouth from her cunt. "Y'taste so good, pretty. Gonna need this every single day now that I've had you," he told her, unsure if this was just dirty talk at the moment. He could imagine a good life where he started every day between her thighs and ended it the same way. His cock jumped in his trousers at the thought. "Can y'give me that, sweetheart? Your pussy every day just for me to have?" 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she sounded, her voice a touch shaky as she braced herself with her grip on his shoulders. "Feels re-really good, H." 

Spurred on by her stuttered praise, Harry surged forward, replacing his lips with his tongue now laving over her clit. It was swollen between his lips as he gave placating sucks to the bud, (Y/N) letting out the softest mewls in response. With her thighs trembling under his hands, he dared to think that if he weren't there to prop her up or the wall offering her balance, she would have tumbled down. 

He wanted to give her something worth crumbling for. 

Diving down from her clit, he followed the split of her spread lips until he was tonguing at her opening. Her wetness had spread to the inside of her thighs, his cheeks, and now the tip of his nose as he wagged the flat of his tongue over her folds. It was just as he wanted her, a little messy, a little clumsy as she learned just how it felt to be taken care of by him. 

Pointing his tongue, he jutted his chin against her and thrust his tongue straight inside her pussy. Her fluttering walls clenched around him, welcoming him in as if this was his cock splitting her walls open. Above him, (Y/N) had gone silent. Peeking at her, he saw her jaw slack, eyes closed, and her chest shuddering with a stunted breath. If his mouth wasn't so busy, he wouldn't have been able to hold back the smug curl of his lips. 

Instead, he wriggled his tongue inside her, tracing along the ridges and curves he was so familiar with in another context. (Y/N)'s hands in his hair came alive then, tugging at his roots. He matched her intensity, stroking his tongue in and out of her hole while he used his grip on her thighs to bring her flush to his face. His cheeks were muffed by her warm thighs, chin soaked in her slick, and nose mushed against her clit. 

"H-Harry, fuck," (Y/N) cried, her voice thin, "I-I—oh my god—I—" 

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Harry asked, drawing away just enough to speak against her puffy folds. "I'll give it to you, jus' tell me what." 

She swallowed hard, throat bobbing as she fluttered her gaze to keep in the moment. "Fi-Fingers, please." 

He didn't bother to answer, instead giving into her want in a heartbeat. With the hand cupping the thigh sitting on his shoulder, Harry reached between her legs and stuffed his middle finger inside her fluttering walls. He thrusted through a handful of times before he added his index, (Y/N) keening at the addition with her head thumping against the wall. 

With her shimmery dress still covering her form, every heaving breath, every shudder of her spine, every tensing of her hips was highlighted in the faux-starlight. She was a dream above him, a sheen on her skin, hair pulled back from her face as if she knew he would want to catch every minute expression she made. His own breath came in ragged puffs, but he didn't care much as he attached his mouth to her clit once more. 

He drove his fingers inside her while he sucked her clit between his lips, giving those same laving licks and soft sucks that had her whimpering in the first place. Her hands in his hair were shocked into a tight, unwavering grip. Her thigh over his shoulder shifted until her calf was strapped across his back, urging him closer and closer, toes curling against the material of his shirt. 

He could do this all night, but he had a feeling (Y/N)'s expiration was coming soon. The telltale sign came in the scrunch of her nose, her eyes clamping shut before she forced them open in hopes of catching every detail. 

"Gonna cum for me, pretty?" he mouthed against her clit, feeling (Y/N)'s muscles bunch at the feeling of his voice vibrating around her. 

A small whine crawled its way out of her throat as she nodded, her mouth in nothing more than a gape. 

"Let me have it, sweetheart," he crooned, "Want you to cum on m'face so bad. Been all I could think about for the last week—don't disappoint me." 

There was that trigger he knew too well. She always wanted nothing more than to be the best for him—his best girl, his perfect love, his favorite everything—she would never disappoint him. (Could never, really, as far as Harry was concerned). 

All it took was a brush of Harry's fingers through her fluttering walls and particularly lingering suck of her clit before (Y/N) was crumbling above him. His name left her mouth as if in prayer, adoration and admiration soaking into the syllables. Her back arched from the wall, pushing her hips that much closer to his face. Harry didn't stop, feeling her walls pulse around his fingers, her clit pulsing between his lips. She grew especially wet, leaving him to lap it all up—just as he had wanted in his fantasies.

Aftershocks rained through her body as she came down, her muscles pulsing at every touch he gave her. It wasn't until she let out a particularly pathetic whine, her hands in his hair pushing him off, did he draw away from her. 

"Too much?" he asked, voice hoarse through his swollen lips. 

"Too much," she repeated in a watery voice. 

His mouth and cheeks were soaked, the tip of his nose and chin also glistening in the light. His hands slid down her form, fingers cramping from how tightly he held onto her. (He hoped he both did and didn't leave any bruises on her skin; he hated thinking about her in pain, but also appreciated the thought of his mark on her). 

While (Y/N) caught her breath, Harry helped ease her thigh from his shoulder, steadying her balance without his form propping her up. He fixed her dress despite there being no reason to hide after what they just did, smoothing the fabric over her hips in a soothing touch. 

"Y'alright, love?" he asked, feeling a little breathless himself as he checked in on her. 

"Yeah," she answered simply, her eyes having fluttered shut. 

Harry smiled at her, standing to the full of his height. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he started her towards her bedroom. "Let's get y'cleaned up, yeah?" 

"Yeah," she repeated. Harry's grin grew wider.

With her eyes hooded and movements lethargic, Harry guided her back to her bedroom. Flicking on the light, he deposited her on the edge of her bed. He watched with an affectionate smile as she flopped back into the mattress, arms falling above her head as she stretched out. 

He left her to her quiet soothing as he stepped into her bathroom. Picking a washcloth from her collection under the sink, he wet it before running it across his face to clean up her remaining wetness. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry could only shake his head. 

His hair was a mess, raspberry lips tinted to that of a red-ripened strawberry. His cheeks were flushed, the blush reaching over the bridge of his nose and down the curve of his neck. Just as he thought, his cock was still impossibly hard in his pants, hiding a drenched spot on the front of his briefs where he had been leaking blurts of precum while tasting his girl. 

Taking the damp flannel, Harry reentered her room to see her just as he left her. She wordlessly opened her thighs for him when he took up a now familiar position on his knees in front of her. 

"Is it alright if I push up your dress again, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low croon in the quiet of her bedroom. "Jus' gonna clean you." 

"Okay," she answered simply, lifting her hips some as he pushed up the fluttery hem.

Harry made quick work of wiping up her arousal that had dripped to the inside of her thighs and his saliva that he had spread over her intimacy. When he touched her clit, hoping it would be so fast she wouldn't notice, he earned a small hiss, her legs recoiling to close around his hand. 

"Too much," she reminded him, a pout evident in her voice. 

"'M sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, compounding his words with a small kiss to the cuff of her knee, "Almost done, then we'll get ready for bed. You're tired, right?" 

"Yeah," she sighed. 

He didn't waste much time finishing up, signaling he was done with a swift kiss to her hip before standing to his full height. 

"I'll grab some clothes for y'to change into, then we'll cuddle up. Does that sound good?" he prattled, looking over her as she laid still stretched out. 

"Wait," she stopped him, reaching her arms out for him. Harry didn't hesitate before lacing his fingers between hers, though she didn't stop before she had tugged him into laying beside her on the bed. 

A plume of laughter fell from his lips, matching the dimpled smile molding his swollen lips. "What is it, huh?" 

Disentangling their fingers, (Y/N) instead reached out and looped her arms around his neck. Pulling him in for an innocent kiss, she nudged her nose against his. "Thank you." 

"Sweetheart, that was as much for me as it was for you. Trust me," he laughed, planting another one on her lips. Thinking back to her hesitancy before he had indulged in his fantasy, he kept her close, his expression sobering some. "But, I am sorry I made y'think I wasn't interested in doing anything like that with you. Obviously, that's far from the truth, I jus' never found the right moment, I guess. We always had something more important we wanted to do." 

(Y/N)'s lips plucked into a bashful smile, surely thinking of all the other "important" things they took care of in favor of spreading her thighs open with his head. 

"It's okay," she offered, looking at him with a flutter of her lashes as she dropped her eyes to his mouth, "I'm happy we cleared it up, though." 

"Me too," he murmured, tipping his chin and catching her mouth in another sweet kiss. 

This time (Y/N) deepened it just enough to get a taste of his tongue swiping over hers. There was no doubt she'd get a sample of what was tucked between her thighs, seeing as how Harry could still plainly taste her on his buds. 

"Are you sure you're ready to go to bed?" she asked once she pulled away, shuffling that much closer to him amidst the tufts of her duvet. 

"Did you have other plans?" Harry's gaze scanned over her features, not missing the way she flicked her gaze down, as if hoping she could catch a glimpse of his lap. 

"Well," she started, bright eyes meeting his, "I don't know if it'd be very fair if I was the only one that got to feel good tonight." Scooting closer, she was able to lift her leg to lay over his hip, his hard cock pressing into the inside of her thigh. 

"I think we could postpone sleep, right?" 

Landing his hand on her waist, he pushed her to lay on her back before he laid himself over her. 

She nodded up at him, attempting to bite back her smile. "I think that sounds way more fun."

It was the spark of giddy light in her eyes, the excitement hiding behind her shy smile, that had Harry's heart skipping a beat. 

Staying up with her was much more fun than dreaming.

—————

thank you so much to whoever requested this esp for being so patient! sorry for any mistakes and please share any fun ideas!

[nxuvillette]

“WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS!”

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS HCS W/ BLLK MEN

synopsis: it’s just a situationship. those usually don’t lead to much, right?

❥- including : michael kaiser, oliver aiku, sae itoshi

❥- note : first bllk post !! i’m slowly getting back into it, so i hope you all enjoy <3 ! reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, rough sex (kaiser), some degradation (kaiser), spanking (kaiser), car sex (sae), birthday sex (oliver), mentions of food (sae), use of pet names (baby , princess , good girl), creampie (all), friends with benefits, mentions of hookups, mentions of alcohol (oliver + kaiser), dacryphilia (kaiser), praising.

♡ MICHAEL KAISER

your little friends with benefits with kaiser had begun over six months ago. you and him were both at a party on new years and one thing led to another, and you ended up head first into his mattress with his cock deep inside you. you both promised it would be a one time thing, but one time turned to two, three, and eventually four times.

he was the one who proposed the idea of having a little “thing.” he said you could both call it off at any time and you weren’t exclusive to each other. it didn’t sound like such a bad idea anyway. it was just mindless fun with pleasure mixed within, right?

kaiser was so fucking great in bed. whenever you two would link up, he would make sure you were shaking by the time he was done. he loved seeing the reactions your body had whenever he did something to it. you were so addictive. there were even a few times he would skip practice so he could go and fuck your brains out. if anything, you were the best workout he could ever ask for. your sweaty bodies clinging to each other afterwards was better than any drug he could ever try. he wondered where the hell you had been hiding all of this time.

tonight was a bit different, though. 

kaiser had hit you up later on in the evening. it was a bit odd since you recalled him telling you that he had a game earlier in the day. you shrugged it off, but that changed when you stepped into his nice apartment and noticed how his demeanor was different. he seemed pissed off. you could just tell from his facial expressions and how he carried himself around. 

when you both reached the bed, kaiser was a lot rougher than he usually was. your face was shoved into the pillow and your ass was sore from the amount of times he had spanked you. his pace was set quite quick as well. his balls smacked your puffy clit with every thrust, and he seemed to be taking whatever was wrong out on you. 

“fuck.. yeah, that’s right, take my fuckin’ cock..” he grunted, his fingertips dragging up your spine. “stupid fucks saying i can’t score.. wait till they see what i’m scoring every night..”

you whimpered when kaiser’s palm made contact with your ass cheeks again. a harsh slap filled your ears, making your pussy clench slightly around his cock. “k-kaiser..” your fingers curled on the sheets below you. 

he smirked, taking a fistful of your hair to yank you upwards towards him. “yeah..? you like when i fuck you like a good little slut?” he questioned. “you’re so fucking beautiful.. god, i’m gonna make you cum so hard..”

kaiser then took hold of your hips, slamming his cock into your aching hole. he could feel your pussy twitching around him, signaling you were close to your climax. he wanted to make you a fucking mess. he was the only guy that could make you see stars whenever you finally came. that’s how he knew he was good enough for you. 

“kaiser, kaiser! i’m gonna cum!” you cried, tears forming at your lash line from how intense the pleasure was.

he clenched his teeth when your cunt spasmed around his dick. you squeezed him so tightly that he hit his orgasm as well. his cum leaked into your walls, filling your womb nicely. 

kaiser then flipped you over so you were now laying on your back. sweat trickled down his body and along the blue rose tattoo that covered his neck. “wanna go for round two..? i got a lot more i wanna do to you, baby.” he grinned.

♡ OLIVER AIKU

you started seeing oliver right after your birthday party which was at one of the clubs in your city. your friends surprised you with a fun evening of drinks and dancing. it was what you needed. 

your friend caught oliver staring at you the entire night. his dual colored eyes never left your body and the way it swayed on the dance floor to the music that vibrated around the club. he was with two other guys and he didn’t seem to have a single care about what they were talking about. he was solely focused on you and your friends were trying their best to make you talk to him. you denied it a few times because you thought a guy as hot as him was probably looking at someone else, but you were wrong.

after a few drinks, you gained the confidence to walk over to him when he was by himself. he introduced himself and he seemed a little surprised to see that you came over yourself. he almost thought for a moment that he would have to be the one to get up and make a move, but he thought it was hot of you to come to him.

you two both ended up going into one of the back rooms inside of the club. oliver’s cock was bullying your walls and he had your legs over his shoulders. your pussy hugged him perfectly, and he knew damn well he was gonna like you. there was just something so alluring about you that he couldn’t get enough of. you had to be his dream girl because there was no way that you didn’t come to him for a reason.

oliver kissed you sloppily. he tugged on your lower lip with his teeth and smirked when you moaned into the kiss. “fuck.. you like that, angel? look at you.. the pretty birthday girl getting fucked by me..” he grunted while he felt your cunt clench slightly around him.

your arms were snaked around his neck. his back was covered in scratch marks that irritated his skin, but he paid no mind to them. all he could focus on was you. “y-yes! yes! fuck! ‘so good, oliver!” you threw your head back as he kissed at your g-spot.

he toyed with your puffy clit, drawing you closer to your orgasm. hearing his name come from your lips sent him into a focus that he could hardly pull away from. you were so gorgeous. you took him so fucking well. “come on, baby, cum on this dick.. i wanna see it messy.” he cooed, kissing your lips. “be a good girl for me.. yeah?”

you nodded eagerly and your thighs began to tremble when your high finally crashed over you. oliver couldn’t help but groan when your pussy clamped around his cock, milking him of what was left in his balls. his head went backwards when he felt his orgasm hitting him like a truck. he had such a tight grip on your thighs that it surely would leave a mark the next day. 

oliver sighed, chuckling at how fucked out you looked compared to an hour ago. “i wanna see you again.. maybe i’ll give you another gift for your birthday.. yeah?” he winked.

♡ SAE ITOSHI

you and sae had been hooking up for several months. the two of you met at a restaurant you were serving at, and he had slipped his number onto the receipt he used to tip you. you were a bit shocked at such an action, but nonetheless was he a hot guy you wanted to know more about.

sae was rich and he was very charming. he would make your cheeks burn whenever he flirted with you, and he got you anything you wanted. there were times you would be randomly surprised with flowers or small chocolates. your roommate thought you had a secret admirer, but you knew full well who was behind that. it was cute and you honestly loved it. sae made you happy and you were very attracted to him.

he suggested hookups because neither of you were sure about serious relationships at that moment. you were fine with that and so was he. sae did so many amazing things to your body. he would drive you crazy. there were even a few instances where you sent him videos and photos of yourself in skimpy lingerie or a nice audio where you’re moaning his name. sae fucking loved it.

sae had been away playing soccer for the past month. he finally returned home and you were so excited to see him. the second he pulled up to your building, you ran out and climbed into his car without a single thought. smelling his familiar cologne and seeing that red hair you loved so much brought back so many memories for you.

eventually, you both went to an empty parking lot and escaped to the backseat of his sleek car. you were sitting on his lap with his cock pumping into you at a quick pace. your tits bounced in his face and his hands squeezed the fat of your ass while you rode his cock. he missed you so fucking much. he hated the idea of jerking off because you weren’t there to make him cum as well. seeing you again was like a breath of fresh air. 

“sae..! right there!” your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades. 

he let go of your nipple with a sudden ‘pop’ sound. he loved hearing your pretty voice call out for him. “yeah..? shit, look at you..” he groaned, watching as your pussy gripped his cock. 

you pressed your forehead against his, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. his palm came to cup your cheek, feeling how warm it was. he was so close to getting to his climax. you always made him so weak. there was something in the air whenever you came around, and it was drawing sae in. this was unlike any little “thing” he had before. 

his pace rapidly shifted and became very fast. skin slapped against another and your vision went white every time sae reached that button inside of you. “sae! i’m gonna c-cum!” you cried.

sae wrapped his arms around your waist, bouncing you on his cock. “f-fuck.. me too..” he groaned, throwing his head back onto the headrest. he couldn’t help but slam your hips onto his cock to push you deeper into him. you were so cute and perfect.

you inhaled a sharp gasp when that knot in your belly snapped. a creamy white ring circled sae’s cock, making noises come from your dripping cunt. his cock twitched at how much cum came out of him from just that one orgasm. he had to lay back for a moment to catch his breath. 

you slumped against his chest, panting. you felt so tired, but you didn’t want to move. “can we stay like this..?” you titled your head to look at him.

he nodded, smiling softly at you. “of course..”

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[primaviva]

HUGS N’ KISSES

PAIRING: miles g. morales x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend, miles, invites you over to his place since his moms not home and he can finally have the door shut. but one teasing comment you made later and suddenly he’s asleep in your arms as you smother him in tender kisses. is he really tho?

WARNINGS/NOTES: pure fluff, one suggestive joke? heavily coded latina reader w implied curly hair, miles being petty, that’s all !!

“translations:” ¿qué onda? = whats up, novio = boyfriend, relájate = relax, chuleto = used to refer to a fashionable/flirty boy or fboy, tonto = idiot, lo siento = i’m sorry, princesa = princess

after an exhausting heatwave, new york had been graced with a week of downpours and cool streets.

you hadn't recently seen your boyfriend. yes, you spoke to him in your classes and in the hallways when you saw him at school, but it had been some time since you had last seen him outside of the school building. he frequently claimed to be busy with whatever the hell it was. but you decided against pushing it. miles is loyal to you and has been through a lot, so you don't push him to tell you when he's busy or doing something else to fill the time. instead, you wait for him to open up.

currently, you found yourself comfortably sprawled on the couch in the living room. the morning's heavy downpour had gradually subsided as the afternoon arrived, leaving behind a gentle drizzle that cascaded down the windowpane. without any particular program capturing your attention, this day seemed to be a slow one you just had to follow the vibe of. as you idly absorbed the atmosphere, your eyes wandered to the television, where a journalist was discussing the prowler's recent involvement in a local drug bust.

exhaling a sigh, you contemplated switching off the tv and surrendering to another nap, when suddenly, a notification chimed on your phone. your gaze shifted to the coffee table, where the glow of your phone illuminated the surroundings.

it was a message from your man, miles.

mi novio : ¿qué onda, mami? i miss you 😩😩

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at your phone as you silently read the text. miles had a penchant for playfully teasing and maintaining a smooth facade, all in an attempt to fluster you.

you : relájate… we texted this morning and it was you who stopped replying

you : but ig i missed you too

you could almost picture the expression on his face at that moment. maybe a subtle smirk adorned his lips in response to your sassy reply or the mention of missing him. or maybe he even did a small pout, feeling defeated that you didn’t completely fold.

mi novio : ik you missed me

mi novio : you tryna come over?

as soon as you finished reading the last line of his message, a loud laugh escaped from your lips. once again, he was acting cocky. your mouth stretched into a soft smirk as you realized you couldn't pretend that you didn't like the way he acted. it didn’t help how bold he was asking for you to come over. now that’s when you knew something was up.

the supple fabric made contact with your skin as you took up your phone and sat back against the cushions, instantly soothing your muscles as you typed up a response.

me : come over and do what lil boy…

with a laugh, you rose from the couch and strolled toward your bedroom, mentally getting ready. it was a familiar routine, the satisfying dance of teasing and banter that defined your dynamic. deep down, you knew you would end up there regardless, but relishing in the opportunity to playfully toy with him was irresistible.

you put your phone down on your bed as you opened your closet and began to put an outfit together. you felt your phone ding as you jumped into your jeans and pressed the buttons together. picking your phone up, you glanced at the text message that flashed across the screen.

mi novio : girl you know not the start with me

mi novio : and don’t act like i’m on some freaking timing when you texted the prowler to stop by your window the other night, ma

a gasp escaped your lips, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden nervousness that surged through your body. your cheeks were so warm from the sudden boldness of his comments you swore you could feel the steam radiation off of them. you were well aware of his nature, but this time, he had truly caught you off guard with his little comeback.

your head quipped at the sudden notification that dinged your phone again.

mi novio : what’s wrong, you stopped typing? don’t get all shy on me now when you started it

mi novio : just come over and we’ll figure it out damn i jus wanna see you

despite your nervous state you couldn't help but smile warmly at what she said. miles isn’t always vulnerable but you loved the little crumbs you got when he spoke his mind. you could tell he really missed by just how much he was double texting, something he only does when he talks to you.

you : i'm comingg you can stop now 🫶

as you coated your hands with the product, carefully working it into a rich lather, a playful image of him rolling his eyes in response to your text crossed your mind. undeterred, you tenderly scrunched and massaged the product into your luscious locs. casting a final approving glance at your reflection in the mirror, you made sure your fit was good. with your headphones and house keys in hand, you slid into a jacket, being mindful of the weather. swiftly, you shot miles a text, letting him know you’d be there soon.

you took a deep breath as you stepped out of your house, the familiar door closing behind you with a soft click. the gray sky’s gentle glow kissed your skin, casting a dark hue upon your face. the sound of your footsteps created a comforting cadence as you strolled through the gloomy neighborhood. with each step you glanced at the dark shadows that had overtaken brooklyn throughout time.

within a short time, you found yourself on his block, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone and let him know you were about to pull up. as you turned the corner, his apartment building came into view, and there he stood, positioned at the entrance, patiently awaiting your arrival. clad in an oversized black puffer jacket, he exuded a sense of warmth, his hands tucked protectively into the pockets for an extra layer of comfort in the outside weather. drawing nearer, his face gradually came into focus, revealing the cool, icy gaze that harmonized with his stoic demeanor. yet, behind the stoicism, a gentle smile graced his lips, radiating a tenderness that could not be concealed around you.

he let out a sigh as a cloudy mist escaped his soft lips. “hey baby,” miles whispered, his voice raspy almost as if he’s a bit tired as he moves closer and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close.

“hola chuleto,” you replied back, enamored by how gorgeous he looked in pale sunlight. you put your hand on his cheek and felt his supple skin beneath your fingertips. “so, can i get a kiss from my boyfriend now?”

before he responded, you prepared to start leaning up to kiss him but miles had playfully straightened his back and added to the distance between you two. you looked up shooting him an annoyed glare as a smirk painted his featuress.

“ah, mami. y’know i can’t resist you,” miles mumbled against your ear as he leaned back close to you and let out a small laugh.

he leans down and kisses you, both of his hands resting softly on your hips. he let out a satisfied hum as his lips met the warmth of your mouth. the feeling was something of ecstasy. he had missed you so much all he wanted to do was just be near you. his hand moves down to your lower back, pressing you against him. miles pulled back with a hum as he looked down at you with soft eyes as you gazed up at him through your wispy lashes. he pulled you into a hug as you both slowly rocked back and forth in each other's embrace.

as the chilly mist continued to linger in the air, miles gently pulled away from your embrace, his concern evident in his eyes. "hey, we should probably go inside the apartment building before we catch a cold," he suggested, his voice carrying a note of practicality. his words were accompanied by a warm smile, a gesture that conveyed both consideration and a desire to keep you safe.

nodding in agreement, you intertwined your fingers with his as a silent affirmation. miles opened the door to the lobby and guided you to the staircase as you began your descent up to his floor.

your kisses always had a way of melting his demeanor away into something much gentler, if your friends ever saw him this way they would barely recognize him.

as you reached the landing, miles fumbled for his keys, his hand briefly brushing against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit and mostly empty apartment.

“you hungry? cus’ i cooked if you want anything,” he mentioned from behind you as he locked the door.

"cooked too, huh? and here you are always tryna act all hard," you giggled. "no, i’m good but thank you"

it always was amusing to you how miles acted so differently than how he actually felt but at the same time it gave you butterflies that he had made something with you in mind. he really did have a soft spot for you.

miles shot you an annoyed glare at your words. he never liked being called out, did he?

“i’m not hard or whatever,” he mumbled as he reached behind you, his large hands going around your waist to pull you close behind him before removing your jacket and putting it on the coat rack.

miles turned, catching sight of the amused expression on your face. his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, prompting him to take a step closer, deliberately lowering himself to meet your eye level.

“yeah, i cook,” miles stated, licking his lips. “so i don’t know why you’re giggling at me. a man can’t show off his skills once in a while?”

before you could let out another laugh, miles had grabbed you by the hand and dragged you into his room.

“c’mon, let’s relax and watch a movie or somethin,’” he suggested as you both made your way inside and kicked your shoes off.

miles settled onto his bed, reaching for his laptop and powering it on. as the soft, ethereal glow of the screen bathed his face in a light blue hue, he started looking for fall movies.

"and what movie might that be?" you asked, your expression tinged with curiosity and skepticism.

"i wanna watch a scary movie, but you're too scared so i'm letting you choose. just no more romcom nonsense." miles pleads as he pats the space beside him.

"whatchu mean romcom nonsense?" you repeated in a mockingly hurt tone. "i don't wanna hear that from somebody that said jason x was heat…”

"oh? so we gon bring that into this,” miles groans as he lays back onto the couch, pulling you down gently so you're laying on top of him.

you looked up at him with yet another raised brow as a small pout formed onto his playful lips. "jason x was heat, you're jus’ too much of a hater.”

“yeah i am a hater, but because i love you imma refrain from clowning you for that false statement,” you playfully teased, feeling miles grab your shoulder and lean back, creating a comfortable space for you to rest against his chest. he smirked, and you could tell he was enjoying the banter.

miles sighs, "alright alright, i guess jason x wasn't the greatest...”

he shifted slightly, propping himself up to lean over your body, his gaze fixed on you with gentle intent. with a tender touch, he reached for the blanket, enveloping both of you in its warmth as he carefully draped it over your bodies.

“jason x sucked,” you spat out as miles began to tuck the blanket into your sides.

miles reclined once more, his arm finding its place on your shoulder, drawing you even closer to him. the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

"you always smell good," he remarked, his voice laced with admiration, as he gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "is that the perfume i got you?"

a smile effortlessly spread across your lips at his question. the fact that he had noticed the fragrance you wore, especially since it was the dior one he had given you some time ago, filled you with a sense of excitement.

"could you really tell?" you asked, feeling a bit bashful.

he could sense the flustered effect his words had on you and responded with a sly smirk. as the remote made a satisfying click noise, miles finally selected a movie, capturing your attention. it was a satirical classic— a scary movie that promised both fright and laughter. "of course, i could tell," he quipped playfully, "the bag it came in made my room smell for weeks."

the sassy retort that was on the tip of your tongue dissolved into laughter, unable to resist the infectious humor he exuded. these were the things that made you appreciate his sarcasm even more, and more importantly, made you realize just how deeply you loved him.

miles smiled down at your laughing form, relishing in the pure joy that radiated from you. his fingers danced through your hair, a soothing gesture he often performed, as he loved these intimate moments you shared. planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head, he tightened his embrace, drawing you even closer as the movie commenced.

giggles escaped your lips as his hands continued to play with your hair, his gentle touch leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along your scalp. as the movie progressed, your positions shifted, with miles essentially becoming your cozy human blanket, his body nestled on top of yours.

with one hand lightly caressing his scalp, you both remained engrossed in the film. however, you couldn't help but notice the subtle heaviness in his eyes. between funny scenes, instead of laughing he would slowly blink, accompanied by silent chuckles that escaped his lips.

"tired?" you ask softly, noticing his drowsiness.

he responds with a gentle "mmhm" and a light snore, his grip on you tightening as he draws you closer. despite his fatigue, it's evident that he finds complete comfort and trust in your presence. as he starts to drift off, his breathing becomes more relaxed, and his hold on you gradually weakens, revealing his vulnerability. in this moment, there's no facade of stoicism or toughness, just the authentic him.

as the movie reaches its conclusion, the blooper reel snaps you back to reality. you reach for your phone in the corner, curious about the time. your heart sinks as the bright text on the screen reveals it's already 9:30.

"my mom is gonna kill me," you whisper under your breath, a hint of worry in your voice.

turning to your boyfriend, who is sound asleep in the crook of your neck, your senses come alive as each gentle breath of his tickles your skin.

"miles?" you call out, trying to rouse him from his nap, but there's no response.

cautiously, you place your hands on miles' shoulders and gently shake him, hoping to wake him up. but of course, he remains deep in his sleep, undisturbed by your sad attempts.

out of desperation you continue to try, shaking him a bit more, but it seems miles is completely lost in dreamland, his snores filling the room. he shifts slightly, but remains peacefully asleep, holding onto your neck and cuddling you tighter.

this turns out to be the worst possible scenario for you. the impending lecture from your mom, the potential attack with a lanky shoe, the grounding— everything seems likely to happen. miles shifts once again, clinging to you, and you can't help but feel both exasperated and affectionate in this bittersweet moment.

"miles, please..." you silently pleaded, but as you looked down at his serene face, a wave of tenderness and adoration washed over you. he looked so peaceful and irresistibly cute, and a part of you hesitated to disrupt his slumber.

a defeated huff escaped your lips as you surrendered to the sight before you. his bottom lip slightly tucked under his top lip, his eyelashes resting gracefully against his cheeks, and the faint smile that graced his face as he dozed off—all of it captivated your attention. it was an irresistible combination, making his features appear kissable and utterly adorable. the soft snores he emitted only added to the charm.

unable to resist any longer, your desires took over. cupping his face gently, you leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead. miles stirred slightly at the unexpected touch of your lips, but his response only made him look even more endearing as he leaned into your affection.

a smile played on your lips as you let go of any reserve, fluttering his face with multiple kisses. from his hairline to his cheek and jaw, your kisses were light and ethereal, filled with both gentleness and profound love for him. another kiss found its place on his nose, until the vibration of your phone interrupted the moment once again—your mom calling.

"damn, i really have to go," you muttered under your breath. summoning the courage, you slowly maneuvered miles off of you without disturbing his peace. gathering your belongings, you kneeled by his bed and pressed a gentle kiss on his scalp, one last show of affection before you run on home.

as you tried to move away, he unexpectedly grabbed your thigh, his grip leaving a faint imprint. with a laugh, you carefully pried his slender fingers off, savoring the sweet connection before leaving his side.

"goodnight, tonto," you whispered teasingly, ready to make your exit.

just as you were about to close the door, you heard miles mumble something under his breath.

"goodnight, ma."

he had been awake the entire time.

in an instant, it was as if you were hit with a flashback, remembering how you used to mock miles for his tough and stoic demeanor. was this his way of playfully getting back at you, by pretending to be a big baby?

"don't 'goodnight ma' me! you weren't even asleep this whole time?" you exclaimed, feeling a mix of surprise and embarrassment wash over you. the kisses you had showered him with while he was awake suddenly felt awkward.

"oh, come on, don't be embarrassed. i'm sure we both enjoyed it," miles chuckled, sitting up and leaning against the bed frame. "yeah, i was just messing with you a bit. it was funny."

"yeah, i bet it was real funny," you retorted, crossing your arms and standing defiantly in the doorway. "you always play too much."

miles let out a laugh, thoroughly amused by the small pout that formed on your lips. he rose from his comfortable position on the bed and approached you.

"aww, is la princesa mad at me?" miles teased, leaning down to your height, playfully taunting you.

"oh, can't you tell?" you shot back.

as miles sluggishly smiled, he couldn't help but say, "but you're so easy to mess with."

"being easy to mess with doesn't mean you should actually do it! i thought you were asleep for real," you commented, moving closer to him. "lo siento, pero i have to go home before my mom skins me alive or something."

miles mumbled, "didn't deny that you enjoyed it, though," clearly trying to push your buttons.

and it worked.

"miles!" you called out, your irritation evident in your voice.

"you're cute when you get all angry, you know that?" he continued to tease, his words meant to playfully provoke you.

as much as you wanted to maintain your anger, you couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. you were still annoyed with him and his antics, but there was no denying the underlying affection he had that melted your heart.

he goes in for a hug, sighing softly as he kisses your cheek while embracing you. "alright, mami, go home before her anger starts to grow and she starts getting the chancla," he teases, but there's a hint of wistfulness in his expression as you prepare to leave.

you laugh at his joke. "don't manifest that for me!" you reply, worry in your voice as you slip on your sweater. miles walks you to the door, still holding onto your arm.

"no promises," miles jokes back. when you reach your front door, he keeps his grip on your arm and smiles. "i had a lot of fun today." he glances down briefly, his cheeks turning a shade of red.

"yeah, today was nice," you reply, returning his smile.

he doesn't say anything in response, instead emitting a soft hum. you turn to face him and smirk as you notice miles leaning in.

however, you interrupt his attempted kiss with a finger, playfully reminding him of his prank. "should i tho?"

"aww, come on, i'll make it up to you," he pouts, looking down. "please?" miles appears genuinely sad, and it becomes clear that you won't be able to keep up your annoyed facade for much longer.

frowning, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. you rise up on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss.

miles' eyes light up in surprise as you kiss him. after a moment, he kisses you back, and the kiss lingers on. eventually, miles breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed and a smile on his face.

he looks at you, his expression hopeful. "are you not as mad at me now? did i make it up to you?"

"hmm, i'm not as mean as you, so i guess you're forgiven or whatever," you say, rolling your eyes playfully as you step outside, ready to start your journey home.

"so dramatic," miles chuckles, watching you walk away. however, he stops you at the door, a mischievous grin on his face. "hold up, did you see how red your face got?" he pokes your cheek and teases, "i didn't know you got that flustered." miles continues to poke your cheeks while smiling, clearly enjoying teasing you a little too much.

you give miles a deadpan look as he laughs at your reaction, not quite amused by his amusement.

miles kisses your cheek once more as you walk out, and calls out to you, "be safe and remember to text me when you get home!"

you hoped too that you’d be safe.

what awaited you at home, however, was pure hell. your mom sent you straight to your room after a heated argument that you wisely chose not to escalate. the interrogation that followed only added to your annoyance. you were definitely in trouble.

as you changed into your pajamas, you settled near your window and observed the serene scene outside. the orange and green hues of the falling leaves gracefully descended from the slender trees, landing softly into puddles. it was a tranquil moment, and you found solace in witnessing the slow descent of the fall beauty.

suddenly, a notification from your phone interrupts the peaceful atmosphere. it's from miles.

mi novio : i miss you already mami…

with a sense of contentment, you let out a loud giggle and swiftly reached for your phone to respond to miles. despite the trouble you’re now in with your mom, at this moment, it feels like a small price to pay for spending time with your boyfriend.

art from crittlyworm on tiktok

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.

[gureumz]

wide open

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

premise: forced to marry a dictator king of a nearby kingdom, you're advised to shut up and take whatever king heeseung gives you and give him everything you have in return. in truth, you'd rather kill yourself than be married to this monster, but he has a way of changing people's minds

notes: fem!reader, dom!heeseung, royalty au, very slight angst, marriage of convenience/forced marriage, hate-ish sex, breeding, mentions of impregnation, use of pet names, unprotected sex, strangers to sort-of-lovers, mentions and descriptions of death and injury, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: sixth and final entry for my 1k follower special! this is the end for my two-month 1k event! i'm so thankful for the love this received and i'm excited to start my new series/anthology! i can't wait to write your other requests as well and bring you more stories you can enjoy!

it's making your stomach churn.

the way your father looks at you right now, as if he's sorry but not really. apologetic only because shouting in delight would hardly seem appropriate at a time like this.

you can practically see the sparkle in the East king's eyes.

"the decree says so," your father says with a sigh like he regrets to inform you of such news. you bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from flinging the pewter cup filled with wine in front of you at him.

"the decree can say one thing but we can do exactly the opposite of it," you challenge, balling your fists in your lap. your father turns to you sharply.

"and then what, my love?" your father coos condescendingly. "race to see which one of our heads rolls off the gallows first when the new king of the West chops them off?"

you stare at your father, clad in his deep velvet garb, the lines on his forehead pronounced in the flickering firelight in his solar. you feel your whole face stiffen as you stare back at the spitting image of yourself, the exact source of the flame raging within you. you love your father and you know him. know him enough that it's no use arguing with him now. he would fling whatever words you had right back at you with double the force.

"you're lucky he didn't snatch you in the dead of night once he proclaimed victory," your father presses on. "you're lucky he's being diplomatic about it, issuing decrees so that all the four kingdoms are bonded legally to his whims."

"it hardly feels lucky being the sole maiden of royal blood fit enough to wed him," you spit back, turning away.

you hear your father lets out a breath and you can feel him walk away towards the large window that adorns the north side of his solar. you watch as he gazes out the glass panes, his back to you.

"he's a strapping young man, a talented general as he's proven, and truly the royal seed of his father before him," your father says, something unfamiliar in his voice. he turns back to you and you see, for the first time, the fear in his eyes.

"he turned on his own father, just as his father did with his father, took over that poor dead man's kingdom, and waged a war against his neighbors."

your father's voice trembles now.

"refusal would not only mean death, my rose," your father points out quietly, slipping in the endearment he so often used with you since you were a child.

"he would make sure you wished you were dead," he warns.

you swallow, letting his words sink in.

you think back on the past year, the months of hiding, the weeks spent banged up in the highest tower of your castle, the days of weeping as you waited for your father to come back, the minutes of terror as you were told the West king had emerged triumphant.

the second you saw your father, the Almighty Blessed King of the East, staggering through the palace gates, bloodied and broken.

that wretched tyrant from the West almost took your father away from you. giving yourself to him willingly hardly seems like the right move. but not doing so would mean a fate worse than death.

"is he really that terrible?" you ask, almost in a whisper.

your father walks up to where you're seated at his dining table. he reaches down and takes your hands in his calloused, war-scarred ones.

"i couldn't give you an answer to that if i tried," he explains. "i surrendered before i could get the chance to meet him."

"then how are you so ready to give away your only daughter, your only reminder of the woman you loved?" you implore, looking desperately into your father's eyes.

he shakes his head.

"this is how i want to remember you before you're whisked away into that cruel man's arms," your father says tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"feisty, with the zeal only your mother could pass on to you."

your eyes sting with tears at hearing your father mention his late queen.

your own mother feels like someone from a dream to you. she was there one moment and gone the next. much like yourself.

you let yourself cry silently, rising to let your father hold you in his arms.

---

the trip from the East to the West typically took a little over two weeks if no hiccups are encountered along the way. but you realized, merely two days in, that this whole marriage was cursed from the beginning.

it's as if the whole world conspired against this union, and you would have been grateful for it, but after days of running into problems (thieves and hunters and sudden thunderstorms and a pack of wild boars), the only thing you wanted was to be sheltered inside a warm castle room with a cup of spiced wine on your bedside.

so unbridled was your happiness when you heard a sudden shout from outside your carriage announcing your arrival at the gates of the West Kingdom castle. your two ladies-in-waiting riding with you had equally relieved faces, your hands immediately reaching out to grasp theirs.

"we're here, your grace," the younger of the two, yuna, whispers excitedly.

olivia, the older and more cynical one, swats at yuna's arm.

"don't sound so happy," olivia berates. "this is a dictator's castle we're entering."

yuna shrinks back in her seat and you reach over to clasp her hand reassuringly.

"i'm the only one fit enough to marry him," you remind. "he should know better than to lay a single finger on me."

olivia eyes you worriedly while yuna nods in agreement.

"i'll be alright," you say. whether it's to them or to yourself, you're not entirely sure.

the entirety of your royal party comes to a halt after what you felt was an hour's worth of treading on a steep incline and only then do you allow yourself to peek through the curtains of your carriage.

you gasp as you see the fog all around. you're aware that the West was the mountainous region of the four kingdoms but seeing the clouds form beneath the castle grounds made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"let's hope he doesn't throw me down the ravine," you mutter quietly. olivia and yuna exchange looks before giggling quietly.

you alight from your carriage a few more minutes later, the sudden light nearly blinding you. the sun is covered in dark clouds but the lack of any greenery to shield your field of view has you squinting to see in front of you.

"good morrow, your grace," a voice greets. you turn and see a smartly-dressed man approach, bowing deeply. he's adorned in the West king's court colors and it's then you notice the pin affixed on his chest.

"i'm lord jake, the royal chamberlain," he adds, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your skin. he straightens up and gestures behind him.

your eyes follow where he's pointing and you see a grand staircase leading up to the heavy wooden doors at the entrance to the castle.

"let me assist you to the throne room," jake offers, holding out his arm to you. you take it, fixing a firm grip on his bicep.

"the king is waiting," he adds.

---

you let yourself be pulled through the towering hallways, resisting the urge to gape at the lavishly adorned walls. portraits of Western monarchs, legendary shields and swords owned by said monarchs, heavy purple drapery. jake seems to understand, walking at a pace that hardly indicates that you're in any rush.

you turn behind you to see olivia and yuna following dutifully, your other ladies and servants following close behind, flanked by guards both from your party and from the West King's.

you turn back ahead of you, catching sight of the heavy doors to what you can only guess is the throne room.

"if i may speak freely, your grace." jake turns to you slightly. you return his gaze and nod.

"of course," you say.

"you need not be nervous," jake reassures. "i know of the tales you might have heard about our king. but i've been a companion of his since we were boys. he does not hurt those who are not deserving to be hurt."

you remain silent for a few seconds as you continue to approach the throne room. after a while, you respond to jake.

"i appreciate the words of comfort, my lord," you begin. "but what indication do you have that i'm nervous?"

jake smiles warmly at you just as you reach the doors.

"you've been squeezing my arm since you've arrived, your grace," jake points out.

a pause. your face breaks out into a smile and jake mirrors your expression, both of you allowing yourselves a moment to laugh.

the guards by the throne room doors heave them open and you stand, stiff but adorning your face with a look of resolve. jake pulls his arm away and steps in front of you. just as the doors fully open, jake bows to the throne and then to you.

"my most revered King of the West, this is Princess _________ of the East and her royal household," jake announces in a booming voice that startles you slightly.

"princess," jake continues, turning to you once more.

"i present to you, the Most Royal King of the West, King Heeseung,."

---

everything was a blur after that.

you do, however, remember the silver shock of hair atop the king's head. the deep purple of his doublet. the tight black breeches and black boots laced up around his ankles.

you could see King Heeseung's lips remain unmoving as you curtsied deeply in front of him. you remember the feeling of fear, humiliation, and embarrassment at having to bow in front of a cruel tyrant.

you remember the hint of a smile grace his mouth as you straighten up. you remember the sweat gathering on your palms.

you remember muffled words being exchanged between the king and jake. you couldn't make out what they were saying with the blood rushing in your ears. you remember curtsying one more time before jake takes your hand and leads you and your people out of the throne room.

now, hours later, seated in front of a mirror in an airy room somewhere on the north wing of the castle, you remember to breathe, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"your grace, are you alright?" olivia asks from behind you, her hand pausing mid-brush as she gathers your hair in her other hand.

you meet her eyes through the mirror and nod.

"yes," you answer. "just a little...tired."

"i would assume so," yuna speaks up from the other side of the room, her slender figure bent over the numerous chests containing your belongings.

"i asked and it turns out we traveled close to a month," yuna rambles. "a month! who takes a month to get from the East to the West?"

you smile at yuna's shrill voice, a comfort from the eerie silence that seems to surround the castle.

"how are you two liking it here so far?" you ask, addressing your two ladies. a palpable pause comes over the room as you wait for their response.

"it's...alright," olivia begins. "better than i expected. i pictured brutes and barbarians to litter the halls but that's a misjudgment on my part, your grace."

"everyone seems kind enough," yuna chimes in. "the king barely said a word so i'm not sure how to feel about him yet."

"better to hold your tongue when speaking of the King of the West, child," you lightly berate. "we don't know who's listening."

olivia and yuna both nod in understanding.

a knock from the door to your room interrupts your discussion.

"come in," you call out. you turn to see another one of your ladies poke their head in before straightening up and bowing.

"your grace," jen, a sprightly lady-in-waiting of yours addresses you.

"i've been informed that the king asks for your presence in his study," jen relays, hands folded in front of her.

time seems to stop as you hear these words. you feel olivia grip your shoulder and you hear a clatter of something as yuna drops it. jen avoids your eyes as the four of you soak in her words.

"well," you say after a moment. "i better make haste, then.

you meet olivia's eyes through the mirror once more and she smiles encouragingly.

---

you ask jen to accompany you this time to give olivia and yuna time for their own personal needs. jen readily agreed, not more than five paces behind you as you make your way to where you were told the king's study is.

the castle is bathed in late afternoon light, a gentle breeze fluttering through the hallways. hardly any noise can be heard save for the occasional footsteps of servants and soft chatter from some of the rooms. your heart hammering against your chest is the only thing that fills your ears constantly.

"this is it, right?" you turn to ask jen. she nods as you two stop in front of an intricately carved door with a heavy golden stag knocker.

"you may take your leave," you tell jen.

"your grace?" jen asks, voice meek. "should i not wait for you out here?"

you shake your head. "i have a feeling neither of us knows how long the king will keep me in there."

jen opens her mouth as if to say something more but she stops, sighing. she nods and bows to you before starting down the hallway.

you turn away from jen's disappearing form, hand grasping at the stag knocker. you pound the heavy metal against the door three times before stepping back, waiting to be let in.

"enter," comes a voice from inside.

you swallow, reaching for the door handle. you give it a turn, the door easily swinging inward. you step through the gap, pressing your lips in a thin line as you anticipate what you might see.

the study is a respectable size, with bookcases adorning nearly every wall. a fireplace crackles with flames at the far left end of the room and a large desk rests in the middle of it all.

hunched over a stack of parchment is King Heeseung himself, a quill twirling lazily between his fingers.

your eyes meet and the king straightens in his seat.

"your grace—"

you pause, having both said the same thing at the same time. to your surprise, King Heeseung offers a smile. not knowing what else to do, you force an uneasy smile back.

"sit with me, my lady," he says, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you gather your skirts and perch yourself at the very edge of the seat.

no one speaks for what feels like an eternity. the king has paused in his perusing of the parchment in front of him and you've busied yourself with staring at your hands resting on your lap.

"there will be a welcome banquet tonight," King Heeseung's voice cuts through the silence.

"to celebrate your arrival," he continues.

you dip your head low.

"you have my gratitude, your grace," you say mechanically.

King Heeseung clears his throat. "i also arranged for the wedding feast to take place a week from now."

you allow yourself to gaze upon the King of the West, your eyebrows pinching together.

the king sees your expression and pauses.

"but if you wish to either hasten or push back the ceremony, then i'll take it into consideration," King Heeseung hurriedly adds, his sharp eyes rounding into a softer form.

you realize that sitting here, eye level with the king, that he's merely a man like any other. a man who smiles and startles and laughs.

your mind flashes back to your father's beaten and bruised face. your expression falls.

"no, your grace. a week from now is fine," you concede.

a long stretch of silence follows. you avert your eyes to the window to your right, gazing at the vibrant sky painted in the colors of the sunset.

"heeseung," comes the king's voice. you turn to him, a questioning look on your face.

"you can call me heeseung," he clarifies.

your face must have been of utter confusion because the king smiles again.

"we are to be wed, are we not? i would assume that you'd prefer a much more relaxed method of addressing each other." heeseung leans back in his plush seat, awaiting a response.

"of course," you agree. "and you may address me however you wish."

"my betrothed."

the two words roll smoothly off heeseung's tongue and a strange tug pulls at your chest. you nod silently as if to grant permission.

heeseung clears his throat again, pushing himself off his chair. you rise as well but you make no move to look at his face.

you see from the corner of your eye his hand reaching out to you.

"come. the banquet should be starting soon."

you shakily place your hand in his and he gently wraps his fingers around yours.

"after you, my dear betrothed," he says, motioning towards the door.

---

it turns out, a week flies by extremely fast.

you've managed to meet all of the people of importance in heeseung's court in that time, memorizing names and faces and feasting with a number of them.

heeseung hovers around, greeting you as you go about your day but ultimately keeping his distance. you wonder if you should be doing more to prepare for your wedding but you don't dare question any of heeseung's or his council's plans.

in a blink of an eye, the week is over and you're standing in the throne room, draped in your finest garments, practically glittering from head to toe with the jewelry you've brought from home.

heeseung stands tall and regal beside you, his hair perfectly done and his royal regalia adorning his broad frame. strangely enough, his face is what you anchor on for most of the ceremony—a blur of vows and prayers and oaths and finally, a restrained brush of lips to make things official.

the feast may as well have not happened with how blurry your memory of it is. you sat at the high table, watching the festivities but not really seeing anything.

that is, until a particular loud courtier knocks over a chair, bringing down plates and utensils as collateral damage in his drunken state. the noise jars you for a moment but heeseung lays a warm hand on yours to steady you.

and now, sitting on the edge of your bed, stripped down to your undergarments by your reluctant ladies, you shiver at the thought of what your wedding night may bring.

you've heard stories from your ladies and you've been taught enough by the tutors you've had over the years. but to lay with a man such as heeseung, it chills you down to the bone. would he hurt you? would he demand things from you? perhaps kill you?

you shake your head. it would do no good for him to kill you now. you're both in dire need of heirs for your respective domains, him especially now that he's deposited himself as the supreme ruler of all the kingdoms in your land. and even without taking children into consideration, would he really drive in his image as a tyrant? slaying his wife on their wedding night?

your thoughts are dissolved when you hear a knock come from the door. a second later, heeseung walks in, his cape and gloves amiss, and so are the tightly-laced hunting boots, leaving him in his doublet and breeches, wool boots covering his feet.

he almost looks...nervous.

"my b—"

heeseung pauses, taking in a sharp breath.

"my wife."

your head spins as heeseung says these words. you can physically feel the color draining from your face. when heeseung says it like that, it makes it more real, your fate looming over you like an impregnable fortress caging you in.

"yes, your grace?" you respond, trying to sound composed amidst your anxiety.

heeseung studies you for a second before sighing. he tugs his boots off, undoing his doublet right after. he shrugs the garment off, leaving him bare from the waist up. you gasp softly, abruptly turning away.

"you need not address me like that, remember?" heeseung reminds, trudging carefully before coming to a stop in front of you.

he reaches a hand out, attempting to hold a side of your face but you flinch, your whole body lurching at the feeling of his skin against yours.

your heart pounds as you quickly realize the fault in what you just did. you peer up at heeseung, eyes shaking with fear.

you expected anger, annoyance, or even confusion.

but all you see is a pair of despondent eyes looking down at you.

"why are you afraid? why do you fear me?" heeseung asks, voice quiet, defeated.

your insides churn as you try to find the right words. in a moment, the whole ordeal comes crashing down on you, the day's events flashing in your mind, a reminder that this is your life now. you're married to a dictator for the rest of your days.

"shouldn't i be?" you reply, voice stony. "i'd be a fool to not be scared of someone who murdered their own father and waged a war against the entire world."

heeseung remains silent. he heaves a sigh, turning away from you.

"it seems as if it was a mistake to ask for your hand in marriage," heeseung says.

a flicker sparks inside you.

"you didn't ask!" you cry out, voice accusatory. you stand, pulling yourself to your full height. this outrage has sprung from nowhere, seized you fully, summoning all the anger within you.

"you commanded me here, you took me away from my family, my home! i came all the way here to marry an evil man and he suddenly decides that marrying me was a mistake?"

"i gave up everything i had to fulfill a duty i was called to, that you called me to," you continue, placing yourself right in front of heeseung.

"i need you to prove to me that all this is worth it. that i did not come here to be some poor slave to a tyrant! show me and prove me wrong that you're not just some monster that nearly killed my father!"

you feel the air knocked out of you as a pair of lips press against your own. you cry out in surprise but something snaps within you, the final branch needed to let the fire catch and spread.

heeseung is kissing you and you're kissing him, your hands clawing at any part of him you could reach. his own fingers tug at your chemise, pulling it down your shoulders until it slips off your body completely.

"you're sick, forcing yourself on your wife like this," you pant against heeseung's mouth. he undoes his breeches, letting them fall.

"my wife is free to leave if she pleases," heeseung retaliates, kicking off the last of his clothes.

both of you are stark naked now.

you stand there, breathing heavily as you look into each other's eyes.

"your wife will not leave until you've bedded her and put an heir in her womb," you seethe. "that's all she came here for, after all."

heeseung grunts lowly, attacking your lips once more. he shoves you down on the bed, caging you in easily with his firm body. he runs his hands up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling at every piece of flesh he can dig his fingers into. you moan and squirm under his touch, an ache growing between your legs.

"you'll give me as many heirs as i wish," heeseung says as he kisses his way down to your neck. he suckles on a spot just beneath your jaw and the sound of defiance that you originally wanted to let out is caught in your throat.

"of course, so they can usurp you when it's your time," you say through your teeth.

heeseung says nothing, only looks at you, his face pulled down in an angry frown.

"listen here, darling," heeseung commands, voice dipping even lower. he pulls you by your thighs to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs open.

he glances down and you stare at his face as it turns into a look of intrigue, his eyes transfixed on your core.

you're soaking wet, clenching around nothing as your husband continues to survey what's between your legs. he looks back up at you, a hand reaching over to grasp your jaw in one large hand.

"my father was a madman and so was his father before him," heeseung begins and you feel something prod at your entrance. you gasp as half of him is pushed in with a single swivel of heeseung's hips.

"maybe i'll turn out to be one too, but right now, all i did was clean up the mess he made," heeseung continues, fully burying himself inside you. your legs tremble at the painful stretch and all you want is to hide your face away in the sheets but heeseung's firm grip on your face won't let you.

"he started this war," heeseung says accusingly. he draws back, allowing you momentary relief before thrusting back in, a half cry, half moan escaping you.

"yeah, my sweet?" heeseung pauses to address you momentarily, his eyes dark and evidently hungry.

"feel good?"

he doesn't wait for an answer as he lets go of your face in favor of holding your hips tightly between his hands. heeseung sets up a ruthless pace, mouth hanging open as he watches himself slide in and out of you.

you grit your teeth and refuse to look away yourself, gazing upon the face of what might be another in a line of mad kings. your husband, half of who you are now, half of what your children will be.

the thought sickens you to your stomach.

but the delicious fill of his cock deep in you has you quivering with want, breathless with desire. if this is how good it feels to fuck a mad king, then maybe you are the perfect maiden to wed him.

well, not so much a maiden now that he's buried in you to the hilt, one of his hands grabbing at your breast.

his words 'he started this war' echo in your brain, but a shift of heeseung's hips has your eyes rolling back in your head, that thought forgotten momentarily.

"come on my sweet, look at me," heeseung pleads gently. he leans down, nearly flattening his form over your own. he continues to fuck you, thursts shallow in this new position

you hook your own arms around heeseung's neck, meeting his eyes.

"you don't fear me, do you?" heeseung asks laboriously through heavy breaths. "you never did."

you withhold an answer, leaning in to press your lips roughly against heeseung's instead. he growls low in his chest, his hips moving even faster than they already were.

you keep your mouths together, tongues lapping over every expanse of each other. a shiver runs through you as you feel the friction against your core increase, turning rougher and rougher as heeseung seems to lose himself in you.

you pull away, running your fingers through the hair on the back of heeseung's head. you tighten your grip on the strands and heeseung hisses.

"no," you finally answer. "i'm not scared of you so fuck me like you mean it."

the world seems to give out from all around you as the last words escape you, your hips pinned down painfully against the bed. your legs quiver as you feel heeseung pound into you, faster, rougher, harder. you let a sob rip out of you, your whole body seizing as your release slams down on you.

heeseung looks at you and only you, eyes wide and ravenous.

you clench around heeseung and he collapses over you, hands braced on either side of your head, his face scrunched up in pleasure as you feel him throb deep in you. you feel his thick seed warm up your walls and you gasp softly, your body finally relaxing.

you lay there, weak and unmoving, as heeseung pulls out and rolls off you. he comes to rest on one side of you, his hair tickling your shoulder. without another word, heeseung pushes himself up and retrieves his discarded breeches off the floor.

your heart sinks as you think that he's about to leave. your throat tightens, the thought of being used just like that, despite being his wife, his queen, repulsing you so badly.

but heeseung doesn't walk out the door. he loosely strings up his breeches and walks over to the vanity on the other side of the room. you failed to notice when you came in the first time the bowl of water and washcloth resting beside it.

heeseung wets the cloth, wringing it momentarily before walking back over to you. you've propped yourself on your elbows now, watching his every move.

"sit up, my sweet," heeseung implores gently, seating himself beside you.

you oblige, wincing at the slight sting between your legs as you shift into a more comfortable position. heeseung starts with your face, smoothing over your cheeks with the cloth, the cooled water bringing out a sigh of relief.

he moves to wipe at your neck, then your chest. he peers down at you, laying a gentle hand on your thigh.

"let me clean down there too," heeseung says. you nod, feeling vulnerable under his watch. you part your sore thighs, letting heeseung swipe away at the stickiness.

heeseung finishes and returns the washcloth to the bowl. he picks your chemise up on the way back to you, placing it in your hands. you wordlessly stand, pulling the thin fabric over you, overtly aware of heeseung watching you from where he sits on the bed.

you turn back to him and he's gazing up at you, expression softer than all of the other times. he reaches a hand out shakily, as if hesitant, and you take it, stepping between his parted knees.

he places his hands on our lower back as if to cradle you. before you could stop yourself, you let your hand smooth back some of his silvery locks of hair.

"he—my father—sent those decrees of war out when he realized i was on to him," heeseung mumbles.

you nod gently, signaling him to go on.

"i found out he'd been plotting this war for years right under my nose. i was brought up to command my father's army but i never knew it was for this," he continues.

"i begged him to stop but you can't reason with someone mad," heeseung says, voice shaking.

looking at him now, eyes so doe-like and piercing straight through your own, you realize that underneath what you called a tyrant, he was just a boy willing his father to do right.

"i had to end it one way or another," heeseung continues, head bowing.

you pull him to you, cradling him against your chest. you feel heeseng's arms tighten around your torso.

"but by the time i had dealt the final blow, it was too late. the decrees were sent and i had no choice but to fight the war he left me with."

your chest constricts.

"why not just take the decrees back, admit surrender?" you ask quietly. heeseung looks up at you and you're struck by how handsome he looks when he's not acting like the king he is.

soft lips, the delicate turn of his nose, fluttering eyelashes.

"i was already a kinslayer and a kingslayer. i couldn't lose everything after that," heeseung whispers, brows pinched together as if begging you to believe him.

a flurry of emotions course through you. despite this, you smile apologetically.

you bend down slightly, placing a gentle kiss on heeseung's forehead.

"i don't fear you," you whisper against his skin. you feel him deflate beneath your touch.

"but there is so much more i need to understand about you, husband."

heeseung pulls away and nods. he takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.

"and i'll try my hardest to make you understand. i don't expect forgiveness, just your open heart and open eyes to see who i really am."

you afford yourself another smile. you lean down once more, kissing heeseung softly.

"they're wide open, my King."

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Overblot Universe (4) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Part 1 • 2 • 3• 5

There he was 

The first overblot you witnessed 

The Overblotted Riddle was as regal as ever 

Standing above your gilded bed fit for royalty decorated by arches of spinning ink 

You could see guards that looked similar to the entrapped dormmakers during the event

Standing in front of heart shaped doors that resembled an inky reflection of the Heartslabyul’s dorm

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, (Y/n). I haven’t forgotten how you ran from my forces meant to bring you home.”

“I…was just scared. Your army was fighting with Jamil’s and I just didn’t want to get in the way.”

Riddle scoffed,”You think I’d allow any of my vassals hurt you?! I thought you heard me last time we saw each other.”

His gloved hands clutched your cheeks and chin forcing you to hold his gaze

“In my world, I am the law. I am order manifest! 

The words brought back the memories again

But you couldn’t drift off especially now that Overblotted Riddle was smiling 

You could practically smell the idea of something awful coming from him

He let his ink gloved hands trail from your jaw to rest around your neck

“I have been eagerly awaiting the day I’d meet you again. For so long I’ve been replaying the sight of the collarless king working alongside those rogue cards.”

He pulled away leaving a ring of ink that tickled your skin, shaping to hug your neck letting a black splattered rose hang from it’s center

“All this time I’ve thought about having you and now I’m this close to having everything be perfect.”

You watched his eyes drift down your body, letting yourself follow his gaze 

Finding your outfit to be matching his own, you hoped it was just the ink doing its things

He beckoned you to follow him 

And the moment you deliberated you could feel the bodice of your outfit slightly squeeze 

So that was it’s purpose+

You hurriedly caught up to him minding the overwhelming line of soldiers collared and at the ready 

“Riddle what do you plan to do?”

Riddle’s distorted chuckle exploded into a diabolical laugh

Calming himself he turned over his shoulder as you both left the dorm/castle for the garden

“I’m recreating where we met of course. An unbirthday celebration that changed everything. A coronation that would have been perfect if you and those cards didn’t ruin it.”

Arriving to the entrance of the garden it was exactly as he said

The table and treats for an unbirthday party all different shades of black with that sheen that said was ink

All surrounding a grand stage where to thrones sat at the edge of it

He took your hand, more gentle than you were expecting and led you on a red carpet that led to the thrones

Out of nowhere this Riddle brought out a box setting it on a pedestal

He opened it to reveal a crown…fit for a king

“Bow, (Y/n) and receive your right as my king.”

Idia’s crown flashed in your mind making you cower instinctively

His glare was paralyzing

“Bow. (Y/n).”

The pressure around your body was intense, as if sapping your energy to make you fall to your knees

Riddle sighs,”That’s good enough.”

He places the crown on your head 

It doesn’t hurt like Idia’s but it feels hard to remove 

And as Riddle helps you stand you can feel the something wet drip from the  crown and into your eyes

But it doesn’t burn…more like clouding your vision as you were led to rest in the throne

“Now! Bring the relic! It’s power will be what finalizes your king's coronation!”

Carried by many of the soldiers was the mirror–The mirror that you originally traveled to 

“That–”

“Recognize it? This is the accursed object that let me bring you here. But it’s done it’s job and no one has any intentions of you using it again.”

“Wait but I have—to–go back!”

The overblotted Riddle gave you that sly smirk all to similar to the dormleader you knew

“You’ll find that world will fade from memory when the portal does as well.”

With a trumpet sound and coordinated shouts an ink covered axe was brought to Riddle

Despite being so close you couldn’t lift yourself from the throne, courtesy of the ensemble you were wearing

You could feel your tears blend with the ink trailing down your face as the Overblotted Queen raised his axe to smash the mirror

You tried to reach in vain as he brought the axe down

You felt as though it was helpless 

Until you heard a whisper

“(Y/n) don’t despair we wouldn’t leave you by yourself.”

A new bout of energy let you sit up

“Oh my gosh! It’s you! You’re here!”

“Hush, we’ve got to be quick the main event is on its way.”

“I summon thee cauldron!” 

[mattslolita]

one of the girls - c. sturniolo

in which ... you're one of chris sturniolo's girls for the night of the versus tour. ( chris x black!fem!reader )

warnings ; smut, fingering, cowgirl, creampie, unprotected piv ( wrap it freak hoes )

"𝒊 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

every moment since you had bought the tickets, you'd been waiting for this day for months — the let's trip versus tour. you've been a fan of the sturniolo triplets since late 2022, and since you weren't able to make the first tour, here was your second chance in 2023 to make the versus tour.

you and your best friend alize had been trying to pick out the perfect outfit for you both to wear, having switched things up many times in between since you wanted it to be a perfect day.

even though as a nick girl she'd be wearing purple, you and alize wanted to match with each other to the t — her outfit contrasted yours only because she wore a cardigan instead of a puffer like you had. the amount of pictures you both took on the uber ride to the venue was insanity, as you both were twinning so hard.

when the day came, you felt excitement course throughout your body as you realized you'd soon be in close vicinity with chris sturniolo — you were a die hard avid for 'black girls 4 chris', something you and alize would joke about all the time. you liked to joke and say you were the number one chris girl ever, whilst alize said that she'd hands down be nick's favorite lesbian.

you knew sometimes your fangirling could get out of hand at times, as you found multiple occasions where chris was your wet dream or you often daydreamed about what it would be like to be with him. his voice, his hair, his personality, that smile, he had lived in your head rent free. you also knew chris probably had no issue at all when it came to hookups, but that wasn't something you cared about — even if it was for one night, one time, you wanted to be in their shoes. you wanted to know what it was like to be one of chris's girls.

the line at the venue had filled quickly, as you and alize had met several of your online friends you made from the fandom — the other girls were sweet and kind, and as you looked at the other chris girls in the crowd you briefly felt a wave of sadness as you thought that any of them could be the lucky one.

your worry dissipated though as you felt alize's excitement radiating off of her body, causing you to giggle. "girl, how are you feeling?"

"how you gon ask me that, y/n?" alize said in disbelief, causing you to giggle as she put a hand on her chest, "we literally finna be breathing the same air as nick sturniolo. hoe, i'm unwell."

some people shot alize dirty looks at her seemingly rude behavior, but both of you paid no mind to them — anyone who was friends with her knew that that's the way she joked around with people, the way she spoke in general.

"i'm so excited to see chris," you tell her dreamily, running a hand through your curly lace front you got done yesterday, "i hope i get picked as his teammate."

"laura's racist if she don't pick us to be one of they partners," alize whispered to you, causing you both to laugh as the line moved forward.

"remember, we get to get pictures and do small talk before the show starts, so make sure we're headed for that line!" you explain to alize who playfully rolls her eyes and swats your shoulder.

"girl chill out, i remember what our tickets said!" alize giggled, "i sure as hell remember how much we paid for them things, ain't no way i'm not speaking to them!"

"and then the merch," you whined, pouting your lips, "that shit was going into my funds for college next semester!"

"then you might wanna start looking for a j-o-b!" alize tells you knowingly, causing you to groan, "i told you, i can speak to my manager for you!"

"girl that man is a pervert, i'm not working there!" you say firmly, "how do you even deal with him?"

"why do you think i act like a dude every time i have a shift?" alize tells you knowingly, "you'll never catch me wearing stuff like this around him."

you felt yourself become excited again as you looped your arm with alize's looking at you guys' matching outfits. "i still can't believe how much we matched with each other!"

"what if we can get a group picture with me, you, nick, and chris?" alize wonders, "we'd all look fine as shit."

"i know chris probably looking fine as hell today," you whispered to alize, causing her to giggle at you.

"girl you always think he look fine," alize says with an eyeroll, causing you to nudge her shoulder playfully.

you could feel your nerves heighten as you got a view of the area where the triplets could be seen doing group photos with the fans. a nerve of both excitement and arousal coursed through your veins as your eyes landed on chris — stray hairs peaked from underneath his black backwards cap, his usual friendly smile painted across his features. you unknowingly bit your lip as you scanned his outfit, seeing as he was wearing an orange tasmanian devil shirt with black jeans white air forces — casual, yet he still turned you on so much.

you took a deep breath as the line drew closer, and you had an even better view of the triplets. they all looked so good, and you felt both excited and nervous at the fact that it would soon be you and alize's turn.

just as you had turned to whisper something alize, chris's eyes had somehow wondered over to you unbeknownst to you — his eyes wandered around the entirety of your outfit, drinking in your brown skin and your thick thighs which were somewhat hidden by your skirt. he almost smirked as he realized you had been dressed in all orange, letting him know you were a chris girl. his girl.

when you looked up from laughing at what alize had said, you could feel eyes on you — your breath almost caught in your throat when you realized he was checking you out. you bite your lip nervously as he swiped his thumb over his nose before giving you a small smirk, directing his attention back towards the fans who were next in line.

you could've melted right then and there, now having to clench your thighs at this. there's no way chris sturniolo was checking you out just now? your mind had to be playing tricks on you.

then again, you didn't doubt chris had thought some fans were were cute. he definitely wouldn't have had any problem hooking up with the older fans if they let him, you definitely would've wanted to hookup with him.

your nerves skyrocket even more when you realize you and alize are up next.

the security ushers you towards nick first, who offers you a warm smile and outstretched arms. "hi, love!"

"hi nick!" you say, hugging him quickly before you make your way towards matt. "hi matt!"

matt gives you a smile, hugging you back as you go to chris next.

his eyes are already on you, having watched your interaction with his brothers — a small smirk is on his face as he pulls you in for a hug, his hands dangerously close to your ass as they reside on your waist. "hi, gorgeous."

it comes out a sort of whisper, which causes your cheeks to warm as you pull away from him with a shy smile. "hi, chris."

you turn to see alize already positioned in between nick and matt, so you took that as the initiative to put yourself in between chris and matt as well. nick puts his arms around alize with a smile, whilst both matt and chris put their arms around you.

well, matt's arm stays around your neck, while chris slips his around your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze causing you to clench your thighs together.

the picture snaps twice, and you turn to wave a quick goodbye to both nick and matt. chris smirks, sending a subtle smack to your ass as you give him a shy wave and you leave with alize.

you still couldn't believe what just happened — you debated on telling alize, but she was so caught up in rambling about the fact that she just hugged and smelled nick so you just giggled with her and let her talk.

the show soon started, and unfortunately you did not get picked to be chris's teammate — but you and alize squealed of excitement when laura asked if she wanted to be nick's teammate. of course that girl was not finna pass that up.

you were front and center of the stage, watching as the show took place in front of you — you knew your eyes weren't playing tricks on you when you saw the glances chris kept sneaking at you. you couldn't help but let your doe eyes wander and stay on his, even when you were recording alize and nick. you had almost missed the perfect swish alize made with the basketball, causing you to cheer loudly for your best friend.

when chris had walked near your side of where the stage was, he gave you a subtle wink to which you smiled and blinked your doe eyes up at him. you were hoping other girls couldn't see it, as they would be quick to make stupid assumptions, because it's not like anything was happening.

the show soon ended, leaving you both nervous and excited once again since you and alize had the small talk with them now. unfortunately you and alize ended up being one of the last people in line, since she accidentally left her phone somewhere on the stage and spent time looking for it.

the small talk line up was in birth order, which you were extremely grateful for — alize had went before you, and now you were up next as you make your way towards nick again.

"hi again!" nick says to you with a beam, holding his arms out for another hug.

"hi, how are you?" you ask him excitedly, as you place one of your posters on the small table.

"i'm feeling good, it was cool to meet everyone," nick tells you, unrolling your poster of all three of them. you hold a pen out to him, which he gratefully accepts, "how are you tonight?"

"i'm doing good!" you tell him excitedly, "i can't believe chris won again, what's going on with you, stink?"

both of you laugh, and he shakes his head. "trust girl, i'm gonna win we just need to give it some time."

"period!" you say, holding your phone up, snapping a few pictures with him, "thank you so much nick, i hope you have a blessed rest of the tour!"

"thank you so much for coming!" nick smiles as you both hug one more time, before you give him a wave as you're off to matt next.

matt smiles at you as you approach him, and you smile back as you set your things on his table. "hi again!"

"hi, matt!" you say calmly, "may i hug you?"

"absolutely, c'mere," he says politely, outstretching his arms towards you, and you slip into his arms.

"how are you tonight?" you ask him, as he signs one of your posters.

"i'm doing good, i can't believe how many people came," matt tells you, and you nod understandingly.

"i'm glad to know you're doing good! i hope you're having fun, too," you tell him sweetly, as he smiles and pulls you in for another hug.

"do you wanna take some pictures?" he asks you kindly, and you nod enthusiastically, handing him your phone as he snaps a couple of .5 photos of you both.

"have a blessed rest of your tour!" you tell matt as you collect your things, beginning to walk away as he smiles and waves at you.

as you're approaching chris, he already has that same smirk plastered on his face as he watches you walk up to him slowly — when you reach him and set your things down on the table, he's instantly bringing you in for a hug.

his hands skim over your skirt momentarily, causing your breath to hitch at the close contact. "hi again, chris."

"hey ma," chris says, swiping his thumb over his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down shamelessly, "did you miss me?"

"i'm a chris girl, of course i missed you," you purred, a sudden bold confidence striking you as you blink your doe eyes at him.

he licks his lips at you and hurriedly jots something down onto one of your posters, and you find yourself unable to look away from him as you take in the way his jawline is so sharp and how the light hits him. he looks so hot, and something inside you wishes he would take you right then and there.

"alright, wrap it up!" one of the security guards yells towards you, causing you to sigh as chris gave you an apologetic smile.

"it was nice meeting you, chris," you say shyly, going to grab your posters.

"you'll see me later, gorgeous," chris whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls away, giving you a wink, "see you soon."

you give him one last smile before you hurriedly begin walking to find where alize is at. as you're nearing the hallway, a buzz in your pocket causes you to take your phone out, seeing a message from alize.

alize🙈🫦

girl tell me why i left my phone AGAIN

i went to go look for it that's why you don't see me anywhere

you curse under your breath at this, silently shaking your head as you begin walking towards the exit — suddenly a hand goes out to grab your arm and carefully yank you towards the door.

"what the fu-"

"told you you'd see me again, ma," chris's voice smirks, and you could feel yourself gasp as you turn to see him, your hand still in his.

"where are we going?" you ask, looking up at him.

"giving you a private tour," he smirks, licking his lips as he looks you up and down once more before pulling you towards the door.

it's nighttime already as the both of you exit out of the door — you feel yourself giggle slightly as the wind whips your hair whilst he hurriedly makes his way towards their tour bus with you.

he looks around to make sure nobody saw or followed, and he quickly opens the tour bus doors. chris signals for you to get inside first, and he couldn't help but watch the way your ass jiggled when you walked up the steps.

as soon as you both were inside, you barely have a chance to look around at the tour bus before chris hurriedly whirls you around to face him, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss.

your arms find their way wrapped around his neck as he draws you closer to him, his arms slithering down to give your waist a gentle squeeze before he lands a smack to your ass.

you gasp into the kiss, allowing his tongue access inside your mouth — you moan when his hands roam all over your body, until he hooks his arms under your legs.

"jump f'me," he mumbles into the kiss.

you do as you're told, jumping and hooking your legs around his waist. chris walks backwards towards the sofa couch, sitting down on it as he continues to kiss you.

you move your legs on either side of his waist straddling him, as you whimper into the kiss — you detach your lips from his and bite down on his bottom lip, pulling away with a pop.

"fuck, you're so hot, baby," chris breathes, causing you to whimper again as you grind down on his hard on.

"chris i want you to do whatever you want with me," you breathe, resting your forehead on his as you catch your breath, "i'm yours."

"is that so, sweetheart?" chris grins up at you, running his hands up and down your sides which causes a shiver to run down your spine, "you gonna be a good girl f'me?"

"yes, always," you tell him, grinding down on him again eliciting a low groan from him.

chris reattaches your lips, tilting his head in order to dominate the kiss — he pulls away and leaves a trail of kisses on your neck, sucking on a particularly sweet spot causing a moan to escape your lips.

you shrug your puffer jacket off of your shoulders, as chris helps to take off your halter top as well. your tits spill out of your bra causing chris to groan as he takes one in his mouth, sucking and nipping at it whilst massaging and kneading the other.

"m, fuck chris," you whine, throwing your head back as you grind down on his erection, feeling your panties dampen.

"take this off f'me baby," chris instructs you, taking his hands off of you so that you could stand up.

you hurriedly pull down your skirt, revealing the orange lace panties you wore underneath — chris's eyes darkened with lust, immediately pulling you back onto his lap. "fuck, you had this all planned out, didn't you?"

"no, but i was hoping it worked," you giggled, biting down on his earlobe as his hand went down to rub across your slick.

"look at you, so wet f'me," chris breathed against your skin, rubbing his hand along your wetness teasingly, "take these off baby."

you quickly stood up and rid yourself of the panties, throwing them to the ongoing pile of clothes. chris pulled you back onto his lap, inserting one of his long, slender fingers into your hole, causing a lewd moan to escape your lips.

"f-fuck chris, feels so good," you moan, throwing your head back as his fingers work in and out of you.

"taking my fingers so well, sweetheart," chris rasps, leaving kisses along your neck as his fingers curl inside you.

"please, faster..." you whine out, his mouth leaving a deep purple spot on your neck as he pulls away with a pop.

he speeds his pace as he finger fucks you, loving the way you sound as he abuses your walls with his fingers — he added another, increasing the pleasure and you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.

"so close, chris," you moan, grinding onto his fingers, "m' gonna cum."

"cum on my fingers baby," chris grunts in your ear.

you quickly obliged, feeling your orgasm wash over you as a moan of chris's name escapes your lips and your juices coat his fingers, your legs shaking. you stand up as he licks his fingers clean, grinning up at you as he pulls his pants and boxers down revealing his throbbing cock — your eyes widened, now knowing that he was in fact huge as fuck.

"what's the matter baby?" he grins cockily, grabbing your waist again as you hover over him.

"you're s-so big, i don't-"

a loud moan escapes your lips as chris sinks you onto his cock, and you immediately feel him stretching your walls — tears feel your waterline from how big he is, your mouth fixed into a permanent 'o' shape as you adjust to his size.

"c'mon ma, i know you can take me," chris assures you, gripping your waist tightly as a groan leaves his mouth, "be a good girl, remember?"

you nodded, just as chris suddenly thrusts his hips up hitting your g spot which elicits a moan from you as you grip his legs while your head is thrown back — he grabs your chin as forces you to look at him.

"look at me while you ride me, ma," chris instructs you sternly.

your hands still gripping his legs, you begin bouncing up and down on his cock as it abuses your cervix repeatedly — the slapping of skin as well as chris's low moans and your high pitches ones vibrated throughout the tour bus, and you were pretty sure anyone close enough could hear what was happening.

"fuck this pussy feels so good," chris grunts, watching as your tits bounce in his face, his eyes staring into yours darkly, "who's pussy is this?"

"yours chris, all yours," you moan, throwing your head back as you continue bouncing, "m'close again..."

"hold it baby, i'm almost there," chris pants, his hips thrusting upward to meet your pace, "fuck..."

suddenly chris grabs your phone and holds it up, taking a live photo of you bouncing on his cock whilst he leaves another kiss to your neck.

with a few more thrusts, you feel chris's dick twitch inside you indicating how close he is — he finally releases inside you, painting your walls white. your second orgasm washes over you, as your legs shake whilst your juices release all over chris's cock.

chris helps you off of him, and you stand up immediately grabbing your clothes scattered around — chris lands a smack to your ass as you bend over to pick your shirt up. "chris!"

he just laughs as he pulls his pants up, then hands you your skirt as well. you smile up at him shyly as you slip it on — he rubs his thumb across your lip and plants another quick kiss to it as he holds your phone up again.

"sorry i couldn't take it earlier," he says, pulling your body against his.

"it's okay, taking it here feels more intimate anyway," you giggle.

you hold the side of chris's face as he snaps the camera once, then he places a kiss to your cheek as he snaps another one.

"can i use the bathroom real quick?" you ask him shyly, and he nods, showing you where it was.

once inside you hurriedly pee, letting out a sigh as you finish and wash your hands. you look in the mirror at yourself, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you look back at the girl who just got fucked by chris sturniolo.

walking back outside, you look to chris who has your phone in his hand, as he holds it out to you, which makes you smile and walk towards him, reaching for it.

he puts his hand on your waist as he holds your phone above your head, looking down at you with a smirk.

"boy, if you don't hand me my phone back!" you tell him, trying to reach for it which resulted in him holding it higher.

"few more kisses first, ma," chris grins, puckering his lips out making you giggle.

you press a kiss to his lips and pull away, but he quickly dips down to peck your lips a few more times. he hands you your phone back finally, and you smile as you begin walking towards the tour bus's exit.

"your posters!" chris says before you can leave, hurriedly handing them to you.

"thank you," you said, looking up at him, "i enjoyed tonight."

"anything for one of my girls," chris winks with a grin, planting one last kiss to your lips.

you exit the tour bus, looking around for any sign of life before you make your way around the building — you look around, your body trembling from the cold air before a honk of a horn grabs your attention and you gasp, jumping slightly.

"where the fuck were you, y/n?" alize's voice says worriedly, rolling down the window to the uber, "bitch i was looking for you!"

"shit girl, i'm so sorry," you apologize, climbing into the seat of the uber next to her, "i have so much to tell you."

"hoe, you better tell me where you disappeared to," alize whispers to you half angrily, the other curious.

before you could get a word out of your mouth, a buzz from your phone grabs your attention.

unknown

*one attachment*

y/n

chris ??? are those my panties ??? 😭

unknown

didn't fuck anybody else baby, yeah they're yours

need something to remember you by since today was our only la show

y/n

is this you telling me you wanna see me again?

unknown

i'll fly you out to another show if you're down

y/n

only if my girl can come too !

unknown

i'll get you both a plane ticket

y/n

i'll see you soon then😘

unknown

good

send me some pics to keep me company while you not here😏

"bitch what?!"

( lilly's section 💌 )

this didn't come out as good as i wanted it to, but i hope y'all liked this ! love u guys so much muah💌.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @whosthislyssbitch @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d

[baby-yongbok]

Ex : Part II

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

⇝ Genre: Angst then Smut then angst again. Dirty Drama.

⇝ Summary: There's only one thing on your mind after 'welcoming' Hyunjin back into your life.

⇝ Warnings: Themes of Cheating, Arguing, Oral sex, Hyunjin is toxic - the manipulative type - and he seriously thinks he did nothing wrong. (I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!)

⇝ Word Count: 3.2k

⇝ A/N: SO MANY of you wanted a part 2 to this so I tried my best + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ I hope that you enjoy the drama! 💕

✧ Part One ✧ Masterlist ✧

It took you a week. A week of crying and screaming, a week of avoiding your friends, a week of him ignoring your calls for you to realize that Hyunjin has you fucked up if he thinks that you’re going to let him get away with what he put you through. At first you just wanted to talk to him, you thought that maybe you could convince him to cut Yara off. You thought that you could change him - how cliche. You called him for three days and when you got sick of getting his voicemail you called his best friend, Jeongin. He was surprised to hear from you but he was even more surprised when you told him everything that happened. 

“Are you fucking serious?” For the first time since Hyunjin left you crying on your bedroom floor you let it all out. You told Jeongin every dirty detail of the encounter. You cried and he was there for you, he did what Hyunjin hasn’t done for months. “Is there anything that I can do? Anything you need?” 

The line fell silent as you processed his question. Your brain is telling you one thing while your heart is telling you another. You sigh as the two battle for dominance over what comes out of your mouth next. You’ve let your heart make all of the moves for the past three days. You’ve cried and you’ve screamed all in favor of lifting the crushing pain off of your chest for an hour or two. Now it’s your brain's turn to decide and it only wants one thing. 

“Ya know there is something that you can help me with.” Your heart pleads for you to choose something less drastic, less dramatic but your brain yells for it to shut up. Why should we let Hyunjin have all the fun? “Anything, you name it.”

“Revenge.”

Hyunjin came to your place four days after you spoke to Jeongin. He had cherry red roses in his hand and an apology plastered on his face. His eyes were pleading with you before he could even open his mouth but to his surprise you hugged him. You held him tight and smiled, taking the flowers and making a home for them in your favorite vase. He was stunned to say the least but he didn’t comment. He needed you. His ex did exactly what you knew she would, she took all that she wanted from him and the second that she started to get attention from somewhere else she acted like he didn’t exist. 

He tried to be the boyfriend that you’ve been wanting him to be over the next couple of weeks but he couldn’t seem to get a hold of you. Each and every time that he’d plan a date or show up to surprise you, you were already out or you were leaving to meet with your friends. You barely answered his texts and he’s more than positive that you’ve been sending him to voicemail for the past week. It’s been a month of him putting up with you blowing him off and he’s sick of it.

He decided to show up at your place two hours before your plans to talk to you, maybe he can get you to stay home and spend some time with him tonight. He misses you more than you could even imagine and he thought that you’ve been missing him too. Shouldn’t you be dying to spend time with him? 

His face drops when he gets to your front door and his key doesn’t fit into the lock, did you change it? He rings the bell, tapping his foot anxiously as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes meet yours when it swings open and you smile at him, welcoming him in. 

“My key didn’t work.” He comments as he kicks his shoes off.

“Really? That’s odd.” You shrug as you make your way to your bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.” You call to him as the bathroom door closes behind you. The click of the lock draws a sigh from Hyunjin. Not even a kiss or a hug? Just a friendly hello like you’re not even dating. He drags himself to your bedroom and throws himself on your perfectly made bed. His thoughts project onto the ceiling as he stares at it. He feels like he’s going crazy, why are you acting so weird? No affection, barely talking, barely hanging out and you’re always on… Oh no. He sits up quickly, his eyes dart around the room until it finally lands on what he’s looking for on your bedside table.

Your Phone.

He glances over at your bedroom door before grabbing it. The screen lights up and a picture of you and your friends presents itself to him. That’s funny, wasn’t your wallpaper that picture of you two from when you went to the aquarium for your second date. You always said that that was your favorite picture. When did you change it?

He glances towards the door again and swipes your screen, his brain is busy thinking of possible password combinations but there is no password. His brows pinch together in confusion, you always have a pin on your phone. He decides to worry about that later and quickly starts searching all of your apps. He goes from your instagram to your snapchat but there’s nothing. Just a bunch of reels being sent between you and Jeongin, the last person you sent a picture to on snapchat was also Jeongin. How can his best friend have time to talk to you but he doesn’t have time to text him back? He’s called him an unimaginable amount of times over the past month but he hasn’t heard a single thing back. His finger hovers over your text messages for a second too long. What if he doesn’t like what he finds? What if you’re cheating on him? How could he handle a betrayal like that? With one more quick glance towards the door he taps the app and it opens up to a conversation. Hyunjin’s heart drops when he reads the name at the top. 

“What?” An incredulous sigh escapes him as he starts scrolling to the top of the conversation. Pet names are being thrown left and right, plans are being made every single day and there are back to back facetime calls in the dark hours of the night. 

Hyunjin’s heart is pounding in his ears and his fingers are moving so fast that he didn’t even realize that he went into your shared media. He freezes and his heart drops to his ass as he takes it all in. Nudes, videos, everything that he could imagine, all of you and his best friend. All of you and Jeongin. He opens a video and his mouth goes dry at the lewd sounds that fill the room. He’s fucking you from behind with a fist full of your hair to keep your head up. You’re drooling and moaning and Jeongin is smiling, he’s fucking smiling at the camera. His shirt - wait a minute - that’s not his. Hyunjin’s eyes go wide as he studies the fabric, his best friend is wearing his clothes while he fucks his girlfriend? Unbelievable, this can’t be real.

He quickly exits the video and scrolls through your pictures. You and Jeongin in the car, in your bedroom, your living, you on your knees and him on his. Hyunjin doesn’t even bother to look at the door to make sure you aren’t coming. He can’t hear anything but the thoughts racing through his head. His finger slips and another video opens. The sound of skin against skin echoes through his ears as the video plays. Jeongin is shirtless, fucking you in front of your bathroom mirror. Actually, he’s naked, did you two shower together? Hyunjin balls a fist in the blanket under him as he watches the video.

“Say it again, baby, say it to the camera.” A broken moan escapes you as you try to follow Jeongin’s order. “Y-you’re so much better than him, fuck me so good, Innie.” Hyunjin swears that his heart broke at the sound of you. Why would you say that? You don’t mean it do you? What did he do to deserve this?

He pauses the video and drops your phone against the mattress, your texts stare back at him and he can’t help but to scroll. “That’s not yours.” He jumps at the sound of your voice and you laugh. You wander over to lazily flip through your closet with a towel wrapped around your hair and your rob loosely tied around your body.

“What the fuck is all of this?” His voice is small, much smaller than he meant for it to be but you can hear the heartbreak laced in it. You almost feel bad for him. But that’s your heart speaking, she’s not in control right now. “You’re fucking Jeongin?”

You pick out a dress and move to your mirror, you tilt your head as you hold it against your body. “Think this is too much for a dinner date?” Hyunjin scoffs, moving to stand from your bed.

“Answer me, tell me that everything that I just found is fake. Tell me that you didn’t betray me.” He has some nerve talking about betrayal. You face him, staring back at him with faux sympathy. “I was lonely when you left, what was I supposed to do?” 

“Wait for me to get back.” You turn your attention back to your closet but he calls your name before you can pick out another dress. “You haven’t been going out with your friends have you? You’ve been with him. What in your right mind possessed you to fuck my best friend?”

“Do you really care, Hyunjin? Do you really want me to tell you? Cause I’ll tell you everything but that’s not what you want to hear, is it?” He watches as you slowly step towards him, like a vixen with her eyes set on a prize. “You wanna hear me say that I love you. You want me to say that I’ll stop seeing him because I need you.” 

He’s stuck in place as he watches you, heavy breaths passing his parted lips as you read him like a book. That’s exactly what he wants, he wants you, that’s all he’s wanted for the past month. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” His voice is a mere whisper once you reach him, like he’d scare you away if he talks too loudly. “That’s what I want.” He shudders when you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. 

“Are you touch starved, baby?” His soft gaze pours into yours but he doesn’t recognize the look in your eyes. It’s not what he wants but he’ll gladly take it. At least you’re looking at him. “Didn’t your ex touch you while you were away?”

His heart sinks and a smile creeps onto your lips. “She - she did but -” You tsk, cutting him off before he could stumble over his words further. 

“She didn’t make you feel like I do, did she?” He shakes his head, guilty eyes staring back into yours as you reach down to palm him over his sweats. “Is that why you’re back? She didn’t take care of my Hyune?”

“She’s not you.” His breath is heavy and his eyes roll back as he answers with a thick groan. You run your fingers over him with expert precision. You’ve always known what to do to get him going. “I want you, not her. Always you.”

“Untie my robe.” You whisper and he quickly obeys, fumbling with the loose knot until the fuzzy fabric falls open and reveals your naked body to him. “Wanna show me how much you want me?” He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss but you dodge him before he can. A disapproving whimper escapes him and you puff out your lip in a fake pout. 

“Gotta be patient, my baby. Can you do that?” He nods, whimpering out a pathetic ‘yes’. His eyes follow your frame as you sit on the edge of your bed. Your eyes wander from his down to the floor in front of you and back up again. He quickly follows your unspoken instruction, falling to his knees in front of you and drooling when you part your legs before him. “Show me.”

Hyunjin latches onto your core like a desperate puppy. His tongue wastes no time exploring every inch of you that he’s missed. Hums and moans vibrate through him as he tastes you and you match each sound with your head thrown back and your fingers laced in his hair. At least he remembers how to eat your pussy the way that you like it, though you must admit that you’ve gotten used to Jeongin’s mouth on you. 

Your bed creaks as his hips buck against it in a desperate attempt to feel half as good as you do. “Fuck, come on, Hyune. Don’t tell me your best friend eats my pussy better than you.” He groans in protest, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you open while he works against you. You gasp in pleasure, so he’s competitive? He swirls his tongue in imaginary patterns, sliding it between your folds as he takes turns sucking on your clit and fucking your pulsing hole. His hips grind restlessly against the edge of your mattress and desperate grunts fill the air once they vibrate through your core. 

“You missed me didn’t you?” You pull him back with your fist in his hair, his swollen lips glisten in the low lamp light and his eyes are glazed with fuckout desperation. “Yeah, missed you.”  He’s too deep into the brain fog to hear just how pathetic he sounds but you’re more than happy to take it all in for him. A strangled moan escapes you as Hyunjin's tongue explores deeper. You grip his hair tighter as he laps up your juices, and you arch your back to meet him. 

His thrusts against your mattress become more desperate as laps at you, The mess of your drooling cunt makes a mess all over his chin as he works desperately to get you to the edge but that’s not the part that gets you close. It’s the thought of him hoping and praying that hi tongue is fucking you better than Jeongin ever did and as you get closer to coming undone you find yourself clenching at the thought that his best friend does it better. “Shit, Jeongin, I’m gonna cum.” 

 Your orgasm rips through you with a loud moan and your body shudders in pleasure. You hold Hyunjin's head in place against your core as his tongue continues to work diligently in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm. Once you’ve come down from your high he pulls back slowly, a single string of spit still connecting him to your cunt.

“What did you call me?” He mumbles, not even bothering to wipe his mouth clean. You stare down at him with not an ounce of care in your eyes. 

“Don’t remember.” You pull your robe closed and slide from in front of him to pull yourself up to your feet. “And I don’t care.” Hyunjin’s heart dissolves as he watches you shrug and wander back over to your closet.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles and you scoff.

“Will you stop with the pitiful tone?” He scrambles up from his knees quickly, a surge of anger running through him. 

“Come on.” He stalks over and wraps his arms around you, leaning in to kiss your neck but you push him away before he can. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I have a date to get ready for.” You flip through your clothes and it’s only now that he notices the empty space in your closet. “Where are my clothes?” 

“I told you to take all of your shit last month.” You shrug, pulling out a dress and holding it against your body in the mirror. “You didn’t take it so I gave most of it to Jeongin. Thought about burning the rest but I donated it instead.”

He watches you silently, jaw hung slack in a frozen state of disbelief. “Are there fucking cameras in here?” He looks around, half desperate for that to be the case. “Is this a joke?”

“The only joke here is you. Did you think that you could come back here and I’d act like nothing happened?” A venomous laugh erupts from your chest. “Be fucking forreal.”

“But we just fucked, I just ate you out why would you let that happen if you’re still going to see Jeongin?” 

“You got a phone call last time. You owe me, remember?” Hyunjin can’t decide if he should be livid or desperate. He wants to yell and curse you out for being so ridiculous but at the same time he wants to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He had hoped that you understood what happened a month ago. He thought that he could count on you to see that he only did what he had to do. Yeah he cheated but if you really loved him you could move past that. 

“You’re excused. I need to get ready.” You push past him, bumping your shoulder with his but he grabs you by the waist before you can get too far, pulling you against his chest. “Don’t be like that, angel.”

 His hands run smoothly up your side, taking in every curve of you. “I know I upset you but you can’t act like you don’t want me. What happened to you forgiving me?”

His lips brush over yours slowly as he whispers. “I want you so badly, I wanna be with you tonight. Stay here with me.” You smile against him as the towel containing your hair slips off of your head and your damp curls curtain around the two of you. You run your hands up his chest, taking in each and every toned dip before you whisper back. “Get out.” You peck his lips and push him away from you with a smile.

“You’re making a mistake.” He pleads with wide eyes blown with anguish. “He doesn’t make you feel like I do, you know that.” Your ringtone bounces off of the walls before you get a chance to answer him. You reach across your mattress and smile when you see Jeongin’s name.

“You’re right.” You shrug, swiping to answer the call. “He makes me feel so much better.” Hyunjin’s jaw clenches as you press the phone to your ear with a smile. You greet his best friend with a sweet tone that used to be exclusively for him. Hyunjin is practically invisible to you as you buzz around your room grabbing accessories and planning your outfit. It isn’t until he grabs your wrist on your way to your vanity that you look at him again.

“Please don’t do this.” Jeongin’s voice is heard from the receiver before you can answer the man in front of you.

“Who’s that, baby?” He asks, and you smile as Hyunjin deflates.

 “No one.” You shrug off Hyunjin’s hold and he deflates as you passively wave him away. “That’s no one.”

Tag List: @dessianna1, @foxytoxxic, @snxfall (If you asked to be tagged and you weren't it's because you did not have your age in your bio. You MUST have your age in your bio to be tagged )

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hiiii I absolutely loved you Max fics I don’t know if you ever would want to do that but if your interested please do a mafia storyline with Max or Mick! ❤️

Little Lion Man || MV1 & CH16

Pairings: dark!Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: you find yourself caught in a war between the mafia families that ruled Monaco. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, guns, murder, pregnancy, slight non con/reluctant vibes, forced marriage WC: 3.5k

For a nation so small it was hard to believe that Monaco could be home to not one but three mafia families. There was the Leclerc famile, Verstsppen familie and the Sainz familia. The Leclerc’s had always called Monaco home but the Dutch and Spanish families had made their arrival known in the 90’s, almost burning the city in the war that broke out.

Just over 30 years later, it looked like history was going to repeat itself as the prodigal sons took over the family businesses.

“You are my daughter, if I say you will marry Charles then you will marry him. End of argument.” You would hardly call it an argument when you weren’t even given an opportunity to say your piece but your father left no room for a rebuttal as he slammed the door closed behind him. There was a reason the Sainz’s called him the Peacemaker.

You were a bargaining chip, a pawn in your father’s arsenal to end the war between the Leclerc’s and the Sainz’s before it could spill out into the street and affect everyone’s bottom line. The last thing anyone wanted was to lose their men, their money and their product.

Two weeks later you were shoved into a wedding dress that could have been a film prop for any 80’s rom-com, puffy sleeves and all. It was hideous.

“You are quite beautiful,” Charles said as you reached the dais where the priest waited. “I suppose that will make this easier.”

By ‘this’ you assumed he meant the moment the reception was over and you found yourself stepping into his bedroom, your bedroom too now. Charles had been quiet for most of the evening, indulging in a handful of whiskeys over ice as he mulled over what his life had become, but he found his voice as he tugged his tie off. “On the bed.”

Your fingers tightened around your waist as you hugged yourself, trying to fight back the tears you thought you had finished shedding when you resigned yourself to your fate. “You don’t have to do this, we can come to an arrangement.”

Charles scoffed and continued to unbutton his dress shirt. “This is the arrangement.”

You swallowed as he shucked the shirt over a leather armrest and you saw the dark tattoos that curled over his biceps and down his forearms. A snake moved with his muscles and entwined around a gothic cross. Beneath it, thorny roses with blood drops splattered over the petals decorated the otherwise sun kissed skin.

“I don’t know what my father told you but I-”

“Your father said you would be an obedient wife,” he interrupted as he pointed a ringed finger to the bed. “I’m only as terrible as you make me.”

You took a step back as he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your face. It was reflex to flinch from his touch, knowing the violence his hands were capable of dealing to those who displeased him. You couldn’t help shivering as his cold wedding band touched your cheek and his other arm snaked around your waist, dragging the zip of your dress down your spine.

“What does that even mean?” you whispered. You took a breath and grew the courage to tip your head back and met his uniquely green eyes - the colour brighter than the soul behind them.

He pushed the puffed sleeves from your shoulders until the dress fell to the floor and inhaled at the sight of your body being bared to him. Biting his lip, he stepped back and ran a hand over his shadow of a beard. “Behave yourself, and I will too. Push me, and I’ll push you back harder.”

You felt the colour drain from your face at the threat and he chuckled as he closed the distance between you, forcing your lips apart with a demanding kiss. His palms ran down your spine and over the curve of your ass, pulling you flush against the hard expanse of his body.

“One other thing,” he murmured against your lips. “Disappoint me or my family and, well…it will be the last thing you do, chérie.”

You collapsed into Max’s arms the moment he opened the door, your fingers digging into the straps of muscle along his back as you clung to him like a lifeline. The penthouse apartment was quiet except for the tv playing in the master bedroom and your sobs filled the foyer before he could even close the door.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Max said, despite holding you just as tight. “He probably has Arthur or Lorenzo following you.”

You started to pull back but his arms caged you in his embrace so you settled for talking into his chest. “I know how to lose a tail. I was careful.”

He sighed and rested his cheek on your head, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo he had missed. “I know, liefje. How long is he gone for?”

You screwed your eyes closed and wished he had never brought Charles up, but you knew Max wanted to know how long he could have with you. “He’s in Nice for a meeting. A few hours at least.”

The hatred for your husband had led you into the arms of Max, his rival and head of the Verstappen familie. The three families would meet each quarter for negotiations and settle disputes, or at least that was what it was meant for, but they just used it as a way to flaunt their wealth and success over each other.

It was after the wedding when you went to your first one that Max had caught your lifeless eyes as you sat beside Charles, decked out in a custom designer dress with diamonds strung around your neck, slowly choking you. He had been struck down by the vision before him and had never wanted something for himself so much in his life. He had been willing to go to war for you and he didn’t even know your name. He had learned it soon enough.

“Do you know who he’s meeting?” Max asked. Even when he wasn’t meaning to he was phishing for information, a reflex he couldn’t seem to stop with a mind as sharp as his.

“Please, mijn leeuw, not tonight,” you whined as you buried your face in his neck. (My lion)

“I’m sorry,” he said with a kiss to your forehead before he tipped your chin back to meet his ice-blue eyes. “What do you need from me, liefje?”

“I need to forget. Please, help me forget.”

Max closed his eyes as rage hardened his features and you knew he was rueing the day he let Charles live. The solution to your problem couldn’t be solved with a bullet and although Max knew that, it was still a bitter pill to swallow. He wanted nothing more than to bathe in Charles’ blood for what he had done to you, but the retaliation would be catastrophic. He had too many people relying on him, friends and family alike.

All Max could give you was a few short hours of his time to show you how he would treat you if the circumstances had been kinder. For a few short hours of stolen time he could erase the touch of Charles from your mind.

Max took your hand, his fingers easing your wedding ring off before placing it on the hall table with your handbag. You relished the freedom that came without the constricting band and flexed your fingers like it had been physically painful to wear the gold jewellery. In a way, it had.

Linking his fingers with yours, Max led the way through the apartment and into the bedroom you found comfort in. This should have been the place you called home, the solace you returned to at the day’s end. It was the one place you felt safe, even though just being here put your life in danger. If Charles ever found out you knew you would be dead, your body left somewhere it would never be found.

“Max…do you believe in God?” you asked in the quiet afterwards. Your arm was curled around his waist, fingers tracing the lion tattoo that covered his rib cage. You could feel the time ticking away with each heartbeat in his chest that you rested your head upon.

“No,” he said honestly, his accent thickening with his amusement. “Do you?”

You looked at the slight change in skin tone where your wedding band usually sat and slipped out of his embrace to find your clothes. “I have to,” you whispered as your throat began to tighten at the thought of returning to the cold mansion Charles owned. “There’s got to be something more than this hell. Maybe one day he will answer my prayers.”

Max could remember the feeling of taking over the family business, how he thought he was invincible - godlike even. Now he felt powerless to the situation. He didn’t like the feeling. He wanted to be the one to answer your prayer.

“One day…” he promised himself aloud, missing the way your spine stiffened at the words. There was no guarantee you would survive long enough for him to keep it.

You stared dumbly at the two pink lines and felt the walls of the bathroom constricting around you. You couldn’t imagine bringing a child into the world you were imprisoned in, it was unfair and deadly. What if the babe had dirty blond hair and ice blue eyes? A new fear sent a shudder down your body and you looked at your stomach, nothing to show - yet.

The door crashed off its hinges as Charles busted it in and you screamed at the surprise, cradling your abdomen on reflex.

“I called you ten fucking times!” Charles growled. His eyes narrowed as they scanned the room before settling on the pregnancy tests lined up. For the first time since you had wed him, Charles looked lost for words, and after a moment his hard stare softened. “We are having a baby?”

You couldn’t remember when he ever addressed anything as ‘we’, it was always you and him - separate, not together. You didn’t know how to react to the instant change in him but you nodded stiffly as he waited for an answer.

A smile grew on his face as he stepped forward and pulled your hands away from your stomach to place his own beneath your camisole. “My son, my heir,” he chuckled, the warmth of his palms almost blistering your skin.

“It might be a girl.” You flinch at the look he gave you and muttered an apology. Just because he was suddenly being gentle didn’t mean he would stay that way, especially if he ever found out the child wasn’t his. Nausea rolled through you and you pushed away to hurdle yourself at the toilet before you emptied your stomach.

It wasn’t morning sickness.

It was a sickness of the heart.

You knew if Max were to believe the child was his then he would have no choice but to go to war, it was a matter of pride and family. On the other hand, Charles would never let the child live if it wasn’t his and despite just learning of its existence, you were willing to do anything to protect it. You needed to tread carefully and that meant no more escaping your guards to see Max. It meant playing the good wife, at least for the next eight months.

You could feel his intense stare from across the table, willing you to meet his eyes. Too many times you felt them drifting up from your husband’s hand clasped on your lap only to snap them back down before you could give in. It would do no good to look at Max. You hadn’t seen him since the night before you took the pregnancy test and you had dreaded going to the quarterly meeting.

There was no hiding the bump in the tight dress Charles had chosen for you. There was no way that Max had missed it when you walked in on your husband’s arm. He had seen it and he had questions.

“I’m going to the ladies room,” you excused yourself after the meal, while the men talked business.

“Arthur will go with you,” Charles said with a nod to his younger brother sitting at his other side. “I don’t trust any of these assholes.”

His hand lingered on the small of your back as you stepped out and you glanced across to see Max’s eyes fixated on that touch. Though you did not welcome the hands of your husband, you no longer feared them the way you used to. Charles was far gentler now that you were, potentially, carrying his heir. It could also be Max’s.

A hand clasped over your mouth and silenced the scream that rose in your throat. “It’s me,” Max whispered, soothing your racing heart.

You looked around the powder room wondering how he had made it past Arthur and saw a narrow cleaner’s entrance left open a crack. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You never came back, never answered my messages.” The hurt in Max’s voice made your chest ache and your hands dropped to the growing swell of your abdomen. He followed that movement, his chest filling with the deep breath he took and the pearl buttons on his shirt started to strain until he exhaled. “I didn’t believe the rumours.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, the biting tone wanting detailed explanations like you were one of his men answering for your actions.

Your lips parted, ready to tell him exactly what you were sorry for, before they slammed shut. “I should go.”

He caught your arm as you moved past and he pulled you flush against his body to bury his face in your neck. “Tell me, please. I’ll make it happen, I’ll answer your prayers, I’ll go to war for you - for both of you. Just tell me, is it mine?”

The confession threatened to slip past your lips, the truth that you didn’t know, that he very likely could be. The confession threatened to eat you alive like it had done every time you saw one of Max’s men around Monaco. They always managed to get a message to you, but you never had a response to send.

“No,” you muttered as you pushed him away.

He rocked back on his heels but remained steady as he watched you retreat to the exit. “No, it isn’t mine or no, you won’t tell me?”

Your back hit the door and you blindly reached for the handle, sparing one last look at his shimmering eyes so you could remember them a little longer. “Whatever helps you to sleep at night.”

“Dammit, liefje, just tell me. I need to know.”

You broke away at the endearment that weakened your resolve and your shoulders curled in on themselves. “I can’t tell you, Max, because I don’t know. I. Don’t. Know.” Your voice cracked and the weight of those words fell tenfold on your shoulders as your hand slipped from the doorknob. “I don’t know who the father is, Max. I-I’m sorry.”

His strong arms grappled you into a tight embrace as you broke down in them, your knees giving out as you felt his lips on your forehead, smelt his cologne on his neck. “It’s okay, liefje, I'm going to fix this.”

You pulled back with eyes and blinked away the tears as you placed your hand on your belly. “How? What if it’s not yours?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” he promised as he tipped your chin back. “Mine or not, this baby is yours and that’s enough.”

A knock sounded at the door and you panicked as Arthur asked if everything was alright. Your reply was muffled as Max stole a kiss and quietly repeated his promise before disappearing back into the cleaner’s room. Wiping your eyes, you unlocked the door and met your brother-in-law’s narrowed eyes before they searched the room behind you. “You’ve been crying.”

“Pregnancy,” you said with a wave of your hand. “It’s called hormones, Tur. Happens all the time, just ask your brother.”

Max’s chair was still empty when you reached the table but he entered from the main door a few minutes later. The mask he often wore in front of those outside the familie was firmly in place as he unbuttoned his suit with one hand and dropped back into his seat, apologising for taking an important call.

“Your men can't handle one evening on their own?” Charles baited over the rim of his wine glass with an antagonising smile.

Max returned the grin with his own as he slipped his phone into his suit jacket. “You have no idea what my men are capable of.”

You could feel the ripples of those words across the table, the feel of a threat in the air. It not only set Charles on edge but Carlos too - the two sharing a look of concern before facing the Dutchman once more.

Max took a mouthful of his gin and tonic and bit into the lime wedge without reacting to the strong citrus taste. Taking his time, he picked up his napkin and cleaned the drops of juice from his fingers before laying it over his lap as everyone watched closely.

It looked as if he were nervously fiddling with his rings under the napkin and Carlos snickered, relaxing back into his chair until your lion spoke again. “But you will…”

The air stilled for a moment as the napkin drifted to the floor and warmth splattered your cheek. You couldn’t think fast enough to process what had happened or why the wetness on your cheek was red. It could have been minutes but it felt like hours before your brain connected the dots and you saw your husband's body slumped in his chair before you, his green eyes open but unseeing.

Across the table, Max had risen to his feet, the fidgeting revealing a silencer he had been screwing onto his gun. He was cold and precise as he took out Carlos next, his accuracy unmatched. Around the seats he went, faster than they could react as the doors were busted open and his second in command arrived. Danny was ready to die protecting Max’s back while you dropped to the floor and prayed for protection of your own.

“We have to get out of here,” Arthur growled as he caught your ankle and dragged you back where he was kneeling, his white chinos turning red as they absorbed his brother’s blood. “Stay low, protect my nephew.”

“Do you have a gun?” you asked with a shaking voice.

“Of course not,” he spat angrily. No one was meant to have weapons at these meetings and you were assuming Max had retrieved his from the reception area before returning.

“Then you’re fucked.” You kicked your Louboutin into his face and scrambled away as he howled in pain, reaching the edge of the table close to Max.

“Liefje, are you alright?”

“Arthur, under there,” you rushed as you pointed behind you, closing your eyes as he lifted the cloth and the muffled gunshot rang out.

“Not anymore.”

“Time to go,” Danny suggested, reloading his magazine and kicking a few bodies to check they were truly dead.

“Is that it?” You asked, hope filling your voice despite the devastation in the room surrounding you.

Daniel threw his head back and laughed but Max just shook his head and said, “This is just the beginning. We just declared war.”

“But they’re dead.”

“Someone will take over, and when they do - we will need to be ready.” Max reached out and wiped the blood from your cheek. “You’re free of him now, you both are.”

Your breath rattled out of you as you felt the weight lift from your shoulders and as the sirens grew in the distance you managed to smile, the first genuine smile in months. Your prayers had finally been answered. “Thank you, mijn leeuw.”

Five Months Later

Ice blue eyes met yours before a piercing cry erupted and Max’s laugh was one of pure joy. “Mijn zoon,” he cooed softly as he rested his cheek on your head and you watched the midwife gently bring your son to your waiting arms.

Tears blurred your vision at the warm comforting weight of his tiny body lying chest to chest with you. You had never felt anything more precious, never held anything more delicate. He was perfect.

“My little lion man,” you whispered, brushing a kiss over the tufts of dark hair he already had. “We love you so much.”

As if he knew what the words meant, his eyelashes fluttered and he peeked them open to bear twin green irises. He would be an heir. He could unite the families. Or, he could tear it all apart.

Only time would tell.

[obsessedvibee]

Can't Sleep

MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Pairing: Austin Butler x reader

Warnings: lots of dirty talk, m. masturbation, f. masturbation, humping a pillow

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Austin is in Paris promoting Dune part 2 and he can't sleep in his hotel. He calls his girl to chat and things get dirty real fast. Phone sex ensues.

Authors Note: It's been way too long since I've written for Austin. Something about imagining him rubbin' one out just does something to me. So I thought I'd make everyone else suffer too. You're welcome. Comments & reblogs appreciated!

Enjoy!

He tossed the remote to the other side of the bed defeatedly. Flipping through the few channel options on the hotel tv could only entertain him for so long. Looking over at the clock the red number taunted him showing 4am. Being up for the last almost 36 hours would tire out most people but his body wouldn’t let go of consciousness. The jet lag certainly wasn’t helping either. His thoughts flickered to her. Doing the math in his head; she’d only be at 10pm in New York with Paris being six hours ahead. She should be home from work now. Finished with dinner.

He reached for his phone, quickly finding her in his contacts, before pressing it to his ear. The line crackled before it began to ring. His fingers mindlessly played with the string from the waistband of his sweats as he waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” 

Her voice sounded small and distant through the line and he hated it.

“Y/N, hi,” he rasped.

“Hi.”

A bit of rustling sounded on the other end as she sat up from the couch she was more than likely dosing off on.

“You sound tired,” he said, suddenly feeling guilty, “I should let you sleep.”

“No, no it’s fine,” she assured him, “I think I’m more bored than tired.”

He knew she was lying. She’d fallen asleep on that couch so many times when he’s home with her. Never being able to finish a whole movie without hearing her soft snores as she slept. 

He was a little jealous if he was being honest with himself. He was never one of those people that could just pass out as soon as they close their eyes. Even more so if it wasn’t his own bed. 

“Have you slept at all since you left?”

He sighed, “no.”

“Aus,” she said sympathetically. 

He ran a hand over his face. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He hummed, “tell me about your day.”

And she did. From her drive to work to how much the phone rang, how her boss had gotten on her nerves, what she got for lunch, how her feet hurt from her new heels she bought the other day, her drive home, how she had to go back out to get chicken for dinner from the grocery store that she forgot to get yesterday. Every detail she rambled on about, but he didn’t mind. It made him feel less alone. Less like he was on the other side of the world.

“Hey, Austin?”

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna set you down for a sec, I gotta pee.”

He chuckled, “m'kay.”

He heard the clank of her setting the phone down, and he pulled his phone away from him for a minute checking the time. 4:30. At least the time was moving a little faster now. 

Putting the phone on speaker, he checked a few emails while he waited when his phone chimed, with her name coming across the banner with a new text.

Leave it to her to text the person she’s currently chatting with.

Clicking on the banner, his phone swapped apps to the text. 

But it wasn’t a text.

His heart rate rose as his eyes took in the photo.

She was posed in their bathroom mirror with a black lingerie set he’d never seen her in before. Her phone was in one hand snapping the photo while the other had her thumb through the waistband of her panties teasingly tugging them lower down her hip, hardly leaving anything to the imagination. Her breasts were barely contained in the bra, the cups hardly coming up over her nipples, her flesh pushed together creating ample cleavage. 

He swallowed thickly as he felt the warmth of blood rush to his groin. 

“You still there, Aus?” She asked feigning innocence. 

He cleared his throat, “yea- yea.” He took a deep breath. “What are you-?”

He didn’t have a ton of words flying around in his head given the normal amount of blood that was in his brain was now being utilized elsewhere. 

She giggled, “you need a little help getting to sleep, yeah? So I thought I’d give ya a little help.”

God, what did he do to deserve such an angel?

“Right now?”

Was this for now or after she hung up? This was new territory for the both of them.

“If you want?”

He felt her back tracking and he scrambled to steer the conversation back to the desired destination.

“Shit, yeah- yeah,” he shifted on the bed propping some pillows to lean back on as he rested his hand over his semi in his pants giving a little squeeze. “Are you- are you touching yourself?”

He heard her inhale before speaking, “should I be?”

“Please,” he almost whispered.

He ground his teeth, waiting for any sound from her. Something to feed his imagination. He lightly ran the back of his fingers over the tent in his pants, keeping his nerves on end.

A small moan sounded into his ear, and he immediately began to work himself with her.

His heart was pounding already, imagining her with her legs open on the couch, her hand working herself over her panties. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he breathed, his fingers slipping under the waistband of his sweats.

She struggled to find her voice. She took a breath, “you.”

“Yeah?” He worked at tugging down his pants. “What about me?”

“Aus,” she chuckled nervously, “I- I- don’t know if I can do this.” 

He situated himself, slowly wrapping his hand around his length, giving her a moment. She always got a little shy with talking filthy.

Not willing to let the mood wane, he chose to take the lead. “I gotcha, just keep your hands busy for me.”

He heard her begin shuffling around before getting settled.

He sighed lazily, beginning to stoke himself, lightly squeezing on his upstroke. His thumb swiped the tip collecting the bead of precum, spreading it around.

“’m so hard for you right now,” he murmured huskily, his voice heavy with arousal watching his tip disappear into his fist.

A little whimper escaped her, rewarding his words, and boosting his ego.

Letting his eyes close, his mind began to tease him with images of her. Her smooth skin, her hair splayed out behind her. Was she starting slow and gentle? 

A sharp inhale brought him back to the present.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. A soft moan followed, melting through the phone into his ear. “I just had to take everything off.”

He couldn't help but quicken his strokes as the sudden image of her legs spread, and center bare on their couch overtook his thoughts. 

“Wanted to get more comfortable.”

“Fuck-, are you wet?”

She hummed, “so wet.”

Hearing her pleasured sounds were going to be his undoing. 

“Put a finger in for me,” he coaxed her.

“Oh-“ she sighed heavily, “Austin.”

His cock throbbed, imagining how warm and tight she must feel. Her glistening folds wrapping around her little finger.

“Keep talking, Aus.”

He bit his lip as a smug smile threatened to appear. He had her right where he needed her.

“Don’t forget about my girls up top,” he spoke, “give ‘em a little attention for me.”

A full moan left her lips, making his cock twitch. He could practically feel her breaths on his ear. His mind kept conjuring up one filthy image after another. One hand in her pussy, the other groping her breast. Forcing his hand to pause, he squeezed at the base as the sudden urge to release overwhelmed him. 

As he willed his heart to slow and the pleasured throbbing in his cock to weaken, a bunch of commotion sounded on her line. He listened intently as it quieted and a rhythmic sound started to come through. He reached down to massage his balls, swallowing thickly, “baby?”

A short whine came from her, sounding distant, before she shuffled the phone closer to her panting mouth, “are you close?”

He let his head fall back into the pillows with a huffed laugh, letting his fingers lightly play at the little sensitive spot under the head. “Just waiting on you, darling.”

He began stroking in rhythm with the sounds coming from her, his limbs tightening as the pleasure began to burn in his pelvis once more, “tell me what you’re doing.”

“I got a pillow-” she gasped, “-between my legs.”

His hips jerked, the primal urge to thrust breaking through his conscious. 

“”You ridin’ it, like you do me?” He panted.

She couldn't even manage to string a sentence together anymore, a groan being her only reply.

“Cum with me baby, in 3-,” he began counting them down, “2-,”

Her whines were high causing goosebumps to cover his flesh, his fist flying impossibly quick over his shaft. He never thought further than her using her hand to pleasure herself, but imagining her grinding herself onto a pillow would be a fantasy he would be coming back to many times in the future, he was sure of it.

“Aus,” she cried, desperate for him to put an end to the agony.

“Cum for me,” he growled; a white heat flooding his pelvis.

A squeak was all he heard from her as she climaxed, and his cock suddenly became impossibly harder as the buzz in his veins shot through his tip. His head pressed deep into the pillows as his body tensed as his climax took hold. White spurted over his abdomen as he grunted like an animal with every lurch his cock gave, draining his seed, relieving his desire.

Relaxing his body, he quickly was left limp as he tried to catch his breath.

Minutes passed as they both regained a normal breathing rate.

He picked up the phone, taking it off of speaker, “thank you, baby.”

It wasn't long after they hung up that he was able to finally fall into a sweet sleep.

Need some more Austin smut? Check out my other works! > Masterlist

[wisecura]

'Hate' Is A Strong Word

Izuku Midoriya x f!reader 5k

summary: for some reason, you've never liked Izuku Midoriya. call it bad vibes, a deep seated irritation, or just plain off-putting, you two just never connected. and even now as pro heroes you haven't uttered a single word to each other since high school. yet, you find yourself badly injured at his doorstep.

warnings: might be repetitive, gaslighting, manipulation, non-canon, dark fic, some blood, belittling, confinement, please don't read if you are sensitive to bad things happening to reader,

an: I haven't kept up with this fandom much but I still enjoy it. i've been busy with work and school. sadly, not fully proofread, but thank you for reading

You never quite took to Izuku Midoriya, even from the start. 

There was something about him. A nagging feeling that buzzed in the back of your mind whenever he was near.

He was the kind of guy everyone liked—or at least, no one dared to openly dislike. Shy, awkward, but undeniably kind, Izuku was the sort who'd go out of his way to help a stranger. Always pushing for justice, always the hero in waiting, the kind of well-rounded individual you'd expect to be universally admired. 

And yet, something about him set off alarms in your gut from the very first day you met. It was your first year in high school, you'd arrived at UA high, thrilled to be accepted into the hero course.

This is when you saw him.

He'd been introducing himself to other classmates, nothing different from the norm. Maybe it was the look in his eyes when they caught yours. The way he shyly moved over to greet you. Maybe it was the way he seemed to interrogate question you on your quirk, and from your understanding he kept tabs on everyone. It could've been the way his eyes seemed to trail you when you evaded his conversation, feeling odd at the line of questioning. You had no idea why every instinct tell you to keep your distance.

You did attempt friendship in those early years, especially when you noticed how easily he drew people in. Once all was settled in, he seemed to be a magnet, attracting the class in with his friendliness. Maybe that initial encounter had been a fluke? You thought that just maybe you were being overly dramatic—after all, Izuku was the epitome of harmlessness, always eager to lend a hand. No one else seemed to have an issue with him, even with his more...odd habits.

But despite your efforts, you just couldn't shake it off. Those creepy vibes you got. So you chalked it up to not meshing well. But you always watched from a distance, and continued your years making friends and overall enjoying the coursework.

Years passed, and both of you rose through the ranks to become pro heroes. 

Izuku, now known universally as Deku, consistently ranked in the top five—a celebrity in the world of pro heroes. Meanwhile, you held a respectable nineteenth place, not one for popularity races, and never quite as concerned with fame as you were with making tangible changes in the world. Not that he wasn't doing his part-

Deku was a household name, his exploits and acts of heroism the stuff of daily newsfeeds. The latest articles highlighted not just his achievements but his physical transformation too—he was now a striking 6’1", his features having matured into what many would consider handsome, listing out other measurements you hadn’t bothered to read about.

Yet, reading about him, seeing his photos splashed across the media, always stirred an inexplicable twist in your stomach. You had no logical reason to feel this way, yet the discomfort was undeniable. You still didn't like the dude.

Your interactions had been minimal since high school, limited to brief exchanges during professional gatherings. You weren’t friends, not really. But he was always friends of a friend with you. It was always weird to hear about him, and you tried to never ask-to never listen in when your friends talked about him.

And, now, as you scrolled through your phone, one hand pressed against your bleeding side, the irony of the situation didn't escape you.

This part of town was supposed to be safe, but here you were. Far from home and in trouble, late at night.

You needed to find somewhere to go—someone to plug this shit up. Your manager had recently updated your contacts with a list of “reliable partners” for emergencies—pretty handy timing, considering the mess you were in now. All listed with safe houses should you need it—your managers words echoing in the back of your mind: 'you'd better not be seen by anyone from the public'.

You had been on a secret mission, something big, something not everyone could handle. But your quirk was a perfect fit—or so you thought until things went south.

The leader of the crime ring turned out to be a lot tougher than the brief said, and instead of nabbing him quietly, you got roughed up pretty bad.

Glancing at your phone, the recommended safe locations popped up. And just your luck—it had to be him.

You frowned at the screen—thumb brushing down the refresh button desperately, but no other options seemed to be loading. There had to be someone else, but why wasn’t the stupid app showing anything?

Of course. Of-fucking-course. Whatever, beggars can’t be choosers, right?

Better not to bleed out on the pavement. You were sure your manager would kill you if this wound up in the newspapers.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed through the pain, straightening up as best you could. You tried to walk confidently into the lobby of a ridiculously upscale apartment building. It was way fancier than necessary, making you feel all the more out of place.

You barely reached the counter when the man behind it did a double-take. “Miss—““—I’m here to see Izuku Midoriya, please,” you cut him off before he could delve into questions you had no energy to answer.

He looked surprised for a moment, then turned his back to you to make the call. You could hear his hushed tones, and an even softer voice through the other end of the intercom. You couldn't make out what they were saying—maybe it was the blood loss affecting your concentration.

“Top floor, Miss—““—Thanks.” You turn away quickly, unable to keep a slight wobble from your steps. You hadn’t meant to be rude. You just really needed to sit down. 

You were a vision of resilience and grace as you press the elevator button, smearing the elevator door button in your own blood. The ride up feels like a century, each ding reminding you of the ticking clock against your injuries. You had time to turn back. To not face whatever was beyond the elevator doors. Did he open his home as a safe location often? What were you thinking—this was Deku—of course he did—

As the doors finally open, you're met with the minimalist, yet luxurious hallway leading to the penthouse suite—his suite.

It's been years since you've last even spoke to Izuku Midoriya, and now, under these circumstances, you're about to see him again.

Funny how fate plays its cruel games, huh?

Stepping out, you hesitate for just a moment before your survival instincts push you forward. Your fist meets the door, the knock more feeble than you intended. It's only a matter of seconds before the door swings open, revealing Izuku Midoriya in person.

He's taller, broader, and his eyes—those damn eyes—haven't changed a bit. He's definitely lost that baby face, his features much more defined, almost handsome. The sight of him makes your heart race for reasons you can't even begin to pin down before that deep voice reaches your ears.

"Shit, you look like hell," wide eyed, he blurts out. "What happened?"

You try to muster a smile, but all you manage is a grimace. "Got into a bit of trouble. Mind if I come in? Kinda bleeding out here," you quip, half-joking, but entirely serious.

He doesn't hesitate, grabbing your arm, gently but firmly, as he helps you inside. "Of course, come in. What are friends for?" he says, though you both know the term 'friends' might be a stretch, you sure as hell weren't gonna comment on it now.

Oddly enough, he doesn't press you for more details, instead guiding you to the sofa. "Let me look at that wound," he says, already moving to fetch a first aid kit and a towel. You feel somewhat guilty at your thoughts as you watch him, his movements efficient and practiced. What if you bled out onto his couch? And now that'll be the first thing on his mind when he sees it? what're you even thinking?

How often has he done this? You mind briefly flashes back to a news report you'd seen recently, of him saving a group of people from a hostage situation turned deadly. And despite your reservations about him, you can't help but feel a reluctant admiration stirring within you. That and this. He really wasn't a bad dude. Maybe a bit awkward, but who wasn't?

You raise your shirt slightly, exposing the expanse of your stomach, an audible sigh from him before his hands find their way to clean the area, surprisingly gentle.

It's a strange intimacy, one you make damn sure to ignore. In other situations you may have blushed, leading with a 'buy me drinks first' joke but you really didn't want to add to the moment.

"Do I want to ask how the other guy looks?" Izuku teases lightly, a break from his jaw tensing, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite yourself, a laugh escapes—bitter but genuine.

"Yeah, I may have gotten the short end here," you reply, meeting his gaze. There’s a warmth there that wasn’t present in your school days, a maturity that seems to fit him well. It annoys you, seeing how much he's grown into himself, into the hero everyone expected him to be. Was it jealousy? No, that couldn’t be it.

Sitting there, letting Izuku tend to your wounds, you can’t help but feel a twist in your stomach that’s not from the injury. It’s from the sheer absurdity of the situation—seeking help from someone you’ve always distrusted, yet here he is, proving to be the hero he always aimed to be. Not asking for anything in return, always helpful, always willing.

And, yes, that bugged the shit out of you. You were wrong.

"Aren't you going to ask what happened?" His eyes flick back over to you, stilling your breath. He lets out another sigh, unwrapping the bandage from his kit.

"The Gokudo Group, right?" You look away, refusing to meet his heavy gaze. He didn't seem entirely happy with the direction of the conversation—

"How do you know about that?" The question sounded silly the second it left your mouth. A top pro hero knowing about a mission so close to his residence? It'd be stranger if he hadn't heard about it. He lets out another soft chuckle, and you feel yourself blush at the way it seemed to lick up your spine.

"Let's call it a guess." As he finishes bandaging your wound, his touch lingers a moment on your side, reminding you of his closeness.

"You should rest," he suggests, his voice soft, almost nonchalant. He seems to see no issue with the idea. A man. A woman. Alone in a pent house sweet. "Stay here tonight. It's late, and you're not in any condition to go anywhere."

You want to protest, to assert your independence, but the room tilts slightly as you try to sit up straighter, his grip tightening on your waist as you let out a small painful whimper. He doesn’t seem too put off by the idea of you staying, and realistically, blood loss was indeed a bitch.

"I guess...I don't have much choice," the words tasting sour on your tongue. For a fleeting moment, Izuku's seems like he wants to say something, fighting with his inner voice, before settling on something else.

"...Of course, you're always welcome here," he assures you, his tone dripping with a sincerity that feels too thick, too heavy. He stands, pressing a button on the wall to adjust the blinds, casting the room into a dim glow. He stands illuminated in a warm glow by the lamp in the corner. Your heart continues its gymnastics, flipping in ways you can't fucking believe.

"Let me get you some water, maybe something for the pain." As he disappears into the kitchen, you try to relax against the plush cushions of his sofa, feeling much more guilty at the thoughts you'd had not even thirty minute prior. This wasn't how you imagined your evening would end, and his kindness seemed to eat away at you by the second.

Your gaze drifts around the neatly kept space, landing on small, personal touches that seem innocuously domestic. Photographs of smiling faces, trophies from his hero work, books on strategy and quirk development. It's all so…Midoriya.

When he returns, he hands you a glass of water and a pill, his smile reassuring. "This will help with the pain," he says, and you take the small tablet from him, your fingers brushing against his, the contact somewhat nerve-wracking.

"Thanks," you whisper, downing the medicine without a second thought. He watched you closely for a second, another thought on the tip of his tongue before he decides to just sit down next to you. Not close enough to warrant a side glance, but close enough that you can smell his smooth cologne, a soothing fragrance that lingers in the back of your throat. A smell that was distinct, unforgettable.

"You know," hesitating, "...I always...hoped we'd get a chance to catch up," his voice a soft murmur blending into the backdrop of the city's faint sounds filtering through the window. You would've sworn he hadn't said anything if it wasn't for your good hearing. "...I've followed your career, you know. You're doing amazing things."

His words sound like a compliment, but you can't help but think: just how closely has he been watching me? The tension in the room was so fucking awkward....

And the comment was innocent enough, so you push the feeling aside, chalking it up to paranoia. He's being nice. He's being nice.

You literally have no reason to doubt him.

Whatever. You can't shake that nag, you're fighting with yourself just to lean into the small comfort he provided, but that itch keeps coming back the more he talks. Just keep your distance, like always, and make your exit in the morning before he wakes up. Maybe send a fruit basket when you get back home as a parting 'thank you' gift.

"Yeah, well, we've both been busy, I guess," He watches you a moment, his expression unreadable before offering a gentle smile. You let out a small yawn, scooting further into the couch. Further away from his spreading legs, hoping to convey your sleepiness.

"Very busy," he agrees, as he stands to grab a blanket from a nearby closet. Thankful for the space, you breath a sigh of relief. You jump when he comes back, yet his voice is gentle, and his movements are tender, almost loving, as he drapes the blanket over you.

You notice his hands tremble slightly—a nervous energy you remember all too well from your high school days. He's nervous. And it sets you on edge even more, despite the fact that he couldn't be more welcoming to you in this moment—a pillar of comfort and support. The blanket he brought was so fuzzy and warm. Your favorite color too.

"Looks like we finally get that catch-up session, huh?" he chuckles easily. You half-expected him to retreat to his room once you were settled, but here he was, still the same Midoriya, despite looking so incredibly different. Never fully catching that hint. You manage a weary smile, feeling the weight of your eyelids, barely still able to converse.

"Yeah, it's been a while. Life as a pro hero doesn't exactly leave much free time for reunions," Izuku nods enthusiastically, sliding a bit closer to you on the sofa until you can feel the warmth radiating from his leg just inches away. You subtly scoot away, maintaining a polite distance, his eyes wide, as he enthusiastically regals your most recent mission.

"That rescue mission form last week was just spectacular, the way you dove right in, you were just perfect, and those people you saved--" He stops himself, realizing he was about to go into a whirlwind. He lets out a nervous laugh, "Sorry,"

But you give him the best smile you can muster up with the gaping wound in your side. And subtly, almost unconsciously, his leg inches even closer to yours, again. You try to dismiss it, reminding yourself of how he always a little closer with his friends—maybe this is just another subconscious thing he did?

"Thanks, Midoriya. You’ve not done too badly yourself," you reply, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of humor. "Top five, right? I always knew you’d shoot up."

He absorbs your compliment, his face lighting up from the small bit of praise you've given him. His gaze narrows in, almost studying you, as if he’s trying to memorize your every expression.

When he speaks again, there's a hint of shyness in his voice, a subtle clinginess that feels slightly misplaced. "You know, I always thought maybe we’d end up working together, you know? Side by side." His voice dips a bit at the end, his eyes are earnest, almost pleading, as they search yours for a reaction.

"That’s...a....nice thought," deliberately avoiding his gaze, though the idea of being this close to him in any capacity would be too much, too soon.

Izuku’s expression momentarily falters, resembling a dejected puppy, and he quickly tries to mask his disappointment, shifting his demeanor to regain some of his earlier lightness. “But hey, we’re here now, right? Maybe it’s fate or something,” he jokes weakly, forcing another lighthearted laugh.

The word 'fate' hangs between you, heavy and foreboding. “Maybe,” you echo, not quite sharing in his forced cheer. The conversation pauses, leaving you acutely aware of the rapid beating of your own heart in the silence that follows.

"Yeah–heh–it’s been quite the journey," he admits, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "But....enough about me. Tell me about you. How have things been...really?"

You shift under the blanket, feeling a bit unnerved by his continued presence. Why didn't he just go to bed? You hadn't even talked much about him in the first place. Was he fishing for something?

"Busy, eventful, and endlessly tiring," you answer truthfully, hoping your frankness might send a subtle hint, topping it off with another yawn.

He nods, mouth quirking up in a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "I can imagine. It must be hard, always being on the move—never able to find time for yourself, never able to catch up. Always the playing the 'hero'."

The way he says 'hero'—with a trace of something like displeasure—makes you pause, almost surprised. "...Well, someone's gotta do it, right?"

"Right, right," Izuku agrees, though his voice trails off, leaving a lingering question in the air. He seems to gather his thoughts, his eyes meeting yours.

"You know, I've always wondered..." his tone shifts slightly, becoming more contemplative, "why we never got along better. I mean, we were always in the same circles, kind of."

You feel a slight tightening in your chest as the topic veers dangerously close to the unease you've always felt around him. "Yeah, I guess we just had different…interests," you hedge, trying to keep the conversation light and steer away from deeper waters that you’d prefer not to navigate.

How exactly could you explain to him that you found him incredibly fucking creepy until now? And even now.....

Izuku's response is slow, thoughtful. "Maybe,"

He concedes, his tone reflecting a tinge of dissatisfaction, voice more probing and less subtle than you've ever heard it before. "But I've always respected you, you know? Always thought highly of your abilities."

"Thanks, Midoriya. That means a lot," you reply, not sure how to respond, not used to the praises from someone like him.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I've always wanted to be...closer. To understand you better. I felt like we never really got the chance."

His words hang in the air, and you're hit by the raw honesty in his voice—an honesty that's bordering on confrontation or confession—you aren't sure. You scramble for a diplomatic response, your mind racing. You didn't want to upset him here, but you sure as hell weren't looking to become best buds.

"Midoriya, it’s not that we didn't get a chance. We just...didn’t.....vibe that way. It happens."

"But why?" His frustration is more evident this time, his voice tense, losing that more playful tone. "I’ve seen how you are with others—laughing, sharing. I just don't get why I never got that side of you."

"It’s nothing personal, Midoriya. I’ve always been more introverted....Maybe our timing was just....off or something."

But he just can't seem to let this go. He's always liked you, but you've always seemed to avoid him. He's never been able to figure it out.

"...I mean, it's not like I haven't tried, right?" he starts again, his tone becoming harsher, a drastic shift from his usual soft charisma. His fingers tap rhythmically against his knee, a clear sign of his restlessness. "I always asked about you, you know. Whenever I ran into someone who knew you, I made sure to find out how you were doing." The revelation sends a chill down your spine.

This could have been sweet—checking in on a friend—but his words sound creepier, like he was stalking you or something, and his intense gaze makes you recoil slightly.

"I just...I've always liked you. A lot, actually," he continues, his tone bordering on accusatory. "And I don't think you ever noticed. Or maybe you did and just didn't care."

"That’s…that's a lot to take in," you respond cautiously, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Yeah, well, it's been a lot for me too, watching from the sidelines. Always the hero everyone loves, except for the one person I actually wanted to impress," his voice rising slightly with frustration.

He continues rambling, each sentence more unsettling than the last. "I've kept tabs on you. I know it might sound weird, but I had to know. I thought if I knew more about what you liked, what you did, maybe I could find a way to be part of that." His confession sends a cold shiver down your spine.

"Isn't that just ridiculous?" he laughs, the sound hollow—bitter, filling the increasingly claustrophobic room. His eyes become distant and slightly frantic. He couldn’t stop himself.

"Midoriya, I think you’re reading too much into this—” you start, trying to defuse the tension, but he cuts you off. "No, I don't think so. I think you've always known how I felt. And you used it against me. Kept me at arm's length on purpose," he accuses, his voice turning harsh.

Witnessing Izuku transform from the awkward, 'lovable' hero you once knew into this intense, confirmed everything that nagged in the back of your head before. An anger issue? Ego problems?

"Everyone else always sees the best in me. Why couldn’t you? What made you so different?" he demands, his voice laden with a toxic mix of longing and bitterness. Finding yourself speechless, the situation spirals beyond your control. "Midoriya, please, this isn’t healthy. We should—”

"Healthy?" scoffing. "What do you know about healthy? You've barely even looked at me all these years. And now, you show up only when you need something? That's a bit contradictory, don't you think?"

The realization that you are alone with him, caught in this escalating situation, keeps you mind spiraling into a semi state of panic. Your sense heighted—fight or flight.

"You know, it's always been more than just platonic for me," his gaze cutting through the dimly lit room, locking onto you with an unsettling earnestness. He too close, too close, "I've cared about you in ways I probably shouldn't have. And I've waited...waited for you to see that."

"Midoriya, maybe we can talk about this tomorrow? It's been a long day, and I really think I should head home and rest," you suggest, reaching for your phone to call an Uber.

"You said you'd stay the night," he reminds you, snatching the phone quickly from your hands. "Are you really going to go back on your word now? After I've opened my home to you, treated your wounds?"

Caught off guard by his overt pushiness and blatant aggression, you stammer, "Hey—Midoriya, I didn't mean—"

"No, you never mean to, do you?" he cuts in, his tone increasingly harsh. "You come here, into my home, ask for my help, reject my friendship—once again, and now you want to leave just like that? It’s always the same with you. You take what you need and then you're gone."

"That's not fair, Midoriya. I appreciate everything you've done tonight, but I'm really not feeling well, and this conversation is a lot to process," you explain, trying to maintain your composure under his scrutinizing gaze.

Izuku's tone shifts, blending accusation with a hint of hurt, his face morphing into that lovable sad expression he wore on occasion. Much like a kicked puppy. "That isn't right. I thought you were a good person. I'm just trying to understand your problem with me. What's wrong with that?"

You take a deep breath, trying to center yourself amidst the emotional whirlwind he's creating. "Midoriya, trying to understand each other isn't the problem," you begin cautiously, "but the way you're going about it—it's overwhelming. It feels like you're not just asking for understanding—you're demanding a specific response from me, one that I'm not prepared to give."

His brow furrows, and his stance becomes defensive. "So, you're saying I'm overwhelming you? I'm some evil guy? Me? A top pro hero? After all these years of keeping my distance, the moment I try to be honest about my feelings, I'm suddenly too much?"

"No, that's not what I mean, Midoriya—please—"

Izuku’s question slices through the tense air, unexpected and jarring. “Do you have a boyfriend?” His tone holds an edge of possessiveness that makes you uneasy. The query, seemingly out of nowhere, is clearly aimed at gauging your 'availability'—challenging it.

“No, but that’s not the point,” but Izuku scoots in closer, his larger frame hovering over your laid back one. Yes, he was much bigger than he was in high school. And yes his broad shoulders stood out 3 inches past your own. You couldn't stop your panicked breathing, the situation too unbelievable.

As Izuku inches closer, his large frame overshadows you, physically cornering you against the back of the sofa. The space feels oppressively small, his presence suffocating. His voice carries a chilling mix of sweetness and venom that you've never heard before, unsettlingly different from the hero you thought you knew.

“So, let’s get this straight....again.,” you avoid his gaze, near impossible from how close he is, “You’ve never had time for me, always brushed off my attempts to be close, and now here you are, in my home, accepting my help after all these years. And you think you can just leave after that, like nothing happened?”

You feel a bit embarrassed when he puts it like that.

“Izuku, I just came here because I needed help, I never meant to—”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? You needed help, and I was convenient for you,” he cuts you off, his voice soft but laced with a sharp edge. “Isn’t it funny how after all these years of avoiding me, suddenly I’m the one you run to when you’re vulnerable? Does that seem fair to you?”

“I’ve always cared about you, more than you know,” his voice lowering to a whisper. “I’ve watched you from afar, always hoping you’d look back. But you didn’t. And now here you are, finally seeing me, but only because you need something. Don’t you owe it to me to stay? After everything?”

His question hangs heavily in the air, charged with expectations you never consented to. Flustered and trying to maintain some sense of normalcy, you start to respond. “I-I’m sorry, Midoriya—”“—Izuku. Please, after all this time, don't you think you could call me by my first name? It’s like you’re still trying to keep me at arm’s length, even now,” The hurt very clear in his voice.

As you struggle to find the right words, trying to navigate the complex emotional minefield he specifically laid out, his next action catches you completely off guard. Without waiting for your consent, he suddenly shoots up, his arms scooping you up in a princess-style carry, far too easily, but expected from a bulky pro hero. The suddenness leaves you flabbergasted and flushing bright red.

"I-Izuku," you stammer, your voice tinged with shock and a hint of protest. "Ah, much better," he responds with a pleased smile. The smile he gives you is something else—wide and triumphant, as he carries you to another room.

The large room he brings you into is softly lit, the bed neatly made. You noticed a vanity on the side wall, feminine products lining the small shelf—eerily similar to the products you have in your cabinet at home. The room was set to your exact style, items you had at home—in your online wish list—were all here.

He sets you down gently on the bed, and the reality of the situation sinks in deeper. He observes you for a moment, a mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth, as if amused by your discomfort. As if he's observing a cute puppy, learning to walk on its own.

"Time for bed. I'll be back tomorrow." He turns to leave, and you reach out for him. "Izuku, wait—" voice laden with a plea for some semblance of normalcy—some answer to the questions you refused to voice, the room you were actively refusing to acknowledge.

"What's wrong?" he interjects with a grin, his tone cooing, demeaning, belittling. "You’re not going to ask me to tuck you in or stay the night, are you?" You could hear the underlying challenge. The jest sent to provoke something from you. "No, that’s not—I just think we need to talk about tonight," You're voice stead, yet you're on the brink of tears, the fear creeping up the back of your neck. A pro hero, a pro hero, he's a pro hero—

Izuku's face hardens at your words, his posture stiffening as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Talk? We’ve been talking all night. You said you wanted rest right?" he retorts defensively. "You’re safe here, aren’t you? I’m taking care of you, after all. What’s there to complain about?"

You know something isn’t right, but his aggressive pushback and the veiled mockery in his tone make you second-guess your instincts to speak up.

"Yeah, I...Thank you...Izuku," you find yourself saying, the words heavy on your tongue. The unease churns in your stomach, but the mean look in his eyes silences the protests forming in your mind. You lie back on the bed, covering yourself quickly, still in your street attire.

Izuku nods, seemingly satisfied with your subdued response. "See? That’s better. Just relax, I’ve got everything under control," he says, his tone soothing yet laced with a possessiveness that doesn’t escape you.

As he turns off the light and exits the room, leaving you in the dim glow of the nightlight, you're left to grapple with the unsettling blend of guilt and apprehension, too nervous now to challenge the dynamic he’s forcefully set.

Would you be allowed to leave tomorrow?

come home

[xxchumanixx]

Hey can you do one where reader (reader is Nyla rookie) is secretly engaged to Tim and Nyla starts to ask the reader questions about who she’s engaged to because the reader forgot to take her ring off before she got to work, and it’s plain clothes day and reader pulls Tim over on his day off because he was speeding ( he was doing something for his sister) and Nyla doesn’t know that is was Tim in the car until the next day when he comes back to work and Nyla and Angela starts to put two and two together

Elephant in the room

Tim Bradford x fiance!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, a little angst

Word count: tba

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! It was really fun to write and I hope you'll like it!

Enjoy!

She just wouldn't stop.

Ever since she saw the glittery and shiny engagement ring on your finger - of course it had to be one, 'cause it was just so shiny - she wouldn't stop asking questions.

Asking questions was an understatement, though - for someone who barely talked about her private life herself, she was really good at squeezing every bit of information out of you.

You had forgotten to take if off before heading to work, not even noticing until it was too late.

It was plain clothes day, she wasn't even supposed to talk, yet Nyla freakin' Harper wouldn't shut up.

Jaw clenched you tried to ignore her, until she threatened to make you fail.

"Wait what?" you almost screeched, parking at a sidewalk to turn towards her in your seat. She was smirking to herself, a shit eating grin that told you 'I have your future in my hands'.

And damn it, she had.

"I'm engaged." you pressed out through clenched teeth, trying to act nonchalant about it with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Do I know him?" she pressed further, and you bit your cheek.

She in fact did know him, but you would never tell her. At least not now, not when you were still her rookie, having promised Grey and Tim not to talk about it, until your training was done.

Which it would be in two weeks.

But the look she was giving you, gave you the sense of feeling that she'd give you a hard time, until you'd finally crack and tell her.

Which you couldn't.

Damn it.

Her brows rose, urging you to answer her question.

"No...?" you answered vaguely, and her head tilted with a pointed look. She didn't believe you for a second.

To be honest, you wouldn't have either.

"Do I?" she questioned, leaning closer. She tried to analyze you, see if you were lying to her.

"I mean, maybe you've met him at a grocery store, who knows?" you tried to shrug it off, heart racing in your chest, threatening to burst out of it any moment, at the look she was giving you.

If she wouldn't have been your TO, she would have made a good friend - whom you might have told, but she wasn't.

Yet, you hoped. She was a great person, and you could only hope to stay on her good side for the rest of your days.

"Mhhmmm..." she made, the sound drawn out, as she leaned back in her seat. "Maybe."

You breathed a sigh of relief inwardly, as someone sped past you on the otherwise quiet street.

Huffing to yourself, you turned on the siren, following the car as you motioned for them to turn over, though thankful for the distraction.

Only then did you notice what car it was - or rather whose.

Cursing under your breath, you had no other choice than to get out of the car now.

Approaching the car you were grateful it was plain clothes day, which meant that Nyla was staying near the shop, not having any sight into the car.

"Hello, do you know why I pulled you over?" you greeted, silently pleading he wouldn't act strange now.

"Driving too fast?" he guessed and you huffed to yourself again, biting your lip to stifle a laugh.

Never would you have thought you'd pull your own fiancé over.

Nodding, you took a step closer, almost crossing the line of getting too close; trying to ignore Nyla's boring gaze for the moment.

"Where are you heading to?" you asked, brows furrowed. "Everything okay?" He nodded at your second question, sending you a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, baby. Was heading to my sister's, she needs something done in her new house, but she has to work in an hour." he explained, biting his lip.

His sister had just recently moved to LA, after divorcing her now ex-husband.

"Tim, you know you should stick to the speed limit, even if you're late!" you quietly scolded him, brows drawn together. "What about being a good cop and all?"

He sighed, chuckling under his breath at your words and you couldn't help but split a smile as well, before clearing your throat, suddenly aware again, that Nyla was watching you.

"I'll let you go this time, sir, but please try and not drive too fast again." you spoke louder, knowing she'd hear.

He laughed quietly at that, blowing you a kiss.

"I love you." he told you, sending you a smile. "Thank you."

You nodded, smiling back. "Love you too. See you later."

Patting the rolled down window, you bid him goodbye, watching as he drove away.

When you returned, Nyla looked at you suspiciously. She knew the car, it seemed oddly familar, but she just couldn't place where from. Your behavior though, she was able to place.

"That your fiancé?" she shot straight to the point, as you two climbed back into the shop. Swallowing, you took a deep breath, stalling.

"Yep." you then announced, fingers nervously drumming on the steering wheel. She hummed, nodding. "Well then, good you didn't give him a ticket." she mused, brows wiggling. "Who knows, maybe he wouldn't want to marry you anymore if you did?"

Rolling your eyes, you started the shop, shaking your head with a smile.

She really was one of a kind.

_____

"Oh my freakin' sweet Jesus!" Nyla exclaimed quietly, eyes wide as she stared at the car that was parked a few feet away.

It was the same you had pulled over yesterday.

Angela, who was walking beside her, stopped as Nyla did, confusion etched into her features.

"What's up with you?" she wanted to know, stiffling a yawn, not feeling quiet ready for a demanding conversation at this unholy hour in the morning.

"When I was on shift with Y/L/N yesterday, she told me she's engaged. Pulled that car over and guess what: it was the fiancé she refuses to tell me the identity off!"

Angela's eyes widened, nearly dropping her coffee as she stared at Nyla, who's brows knitted together at her look.

"That's Bradford's car!" Angela exclaimed in a hushed whisper, suddenly wide awake. Nyla's eyes could have competed with dinner plates at the size they became at the information.

And realization.

Tim Bradford was your fiancé.

Your fiancé was Tim motherfucking Bradford.

Nyla's mouth opened and closed like a fish's, not quiet grasping the words she was searching for, as her eyes went back to the truck.

No fucking way.

"That little-!" she exclaimed, staring at Angela in shock.

She was as equally as shocked as her friend, though she soon started to grin. "Who would have imagined?" she quipped, taking a sip of her coffee.

Nyla's head shook, still trying to wrap her mind around the information.

Oh, you were definitely in for something.

And you were.

You should have known something was up, when Nyla brought you a coffee, even smiling at you like she did when she was pregnant and couldn't control her hormones, scaring everyone.

You really should have known.

Especially when she offered to drive.

"Had a nice evening yesterday?" she asked with a smile. "After pulling over your own fiancé?"

She chuckled heartily at that, and that's what should have made you jump out of the shop, take your legs in your hands and run for your dear life.

Yet you were dumb enough to step right into her trap.

"Yeah, he wasn't mad, said he was glad I didn't spare him just because he was my fiancé and pulled him over nonetheless."

She hummed to herself in agreement, nodding along to it.

"And what did he say was the reason he was breaking the speed limit?"

Your brows furrowed, but you didn't question her. "Wanted to help his sister fix something over at her new house. She just moved here."

Nyla nodded again, lips pursed.

"Bradford's nice to help his little sister that much."

You stiffened at her words, thoughts crashing to a halt. She caught you - but how?

She smirked to herself, a dangerous one that told you not to lie to her now, or else you would regret it for the rest of your life.

Biting your lip, you sank further into your seat with your cheeks ablaze, praying the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

"I mean I get it." she spoke, eyes fixed on the street. "But lying to your TO? Nuh-uh."

"I'm sorry." you apologized, gaze fixed on your entwined hands, that started to sweat profusely. "But I had to promise Tim and Grey not to tell anyone."

She huffed, chuckling under her breath.

"Well, I'm a detective - and a good one." she told you, sending you a pointed look. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"

That she only did with Angela's help, she didn't mention. She wanted to see you suffer, at least a little bit. That didn't mean she wasn't happy for you, though.

You were a lucky one with Tim Bradford as your soon to be husband.

"I expect an invitation for the wedding, of course."

Rolling your eyes, you huffed.

"Please, as if you wouldn't have been invited anyways." you retorted, sending her a pointed look.

She smiled at that, failing to hide it.

"Good."

_____

"Harper knows."

"Angela knows."

"Wait, what?" you both made, brows furrowed.

"Oh my, really should have expected it." you sighed, shaking your head. "Somehow, Nyla found out about it. I bet her and Angela did together."

Tim nodded at that, biting his lip. "Figured."

Sighing, you took off your jacket, before hanging it on the clothing rack. You didn't even get to greet him properly, having to get the news off your chest first.

He crossed the distance, wrapping his arms around you as his eyes met yours. "Should have expected that to happen." he said, lips pursed and you nodded.

"Yeah, they're detectives - and they're good at it." you repeated what Nyla had said earlier, causing Tim to chuckle. "Yeah, 'course she said that."

He leaned down and kissed you, tongue brushing yours, as your hands locked behind his neck.

"Not long and we can tell everyone." he promised, forehead leaning against yours. "And I'm glad when they finally know. Hate lying to them."

You nodded in agreement, pecking his lips again. "Me too."

He walked you backwards, lips brushing yours. "I love you." he murmured, blindly navigating you, and you sighed happily. It still felt like the first time, whenever he said it.

"I love you, too."

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@augustvandyne @RookieTrek

@dhunhdchrih @nachofriess

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊⇢  right person, wrong time?

『 ෆ k.bakugo x fem!reader 』

Bakugo’s loved you since high school. You always pushed him to work hard, never took his shit without giving it back tenfold, and was a pillar of support through some of the toughest times in his life. Even so, he’s convinced himself you’d never feel the same, that he has no shot with you.

Why?

Because you’re quirkless.

You’re part of the 20% without one, and he told himself he can’t get in your way of your life. Bakugo can’t stand the thought of being the reason why you don’t chase after your own dreams. He knows you too well - you’d put your happiness aside to support him the second he asked. You’d put your life on hold if it meant for him to succeed as a pro hero.

But he can’t do that. You’re the one thing he can’t seem to bring himself to be selfish about.

So Bakugo sits idly by, for years, as your best friend. The one you’d do anything for, no matter the time or place. He watches you date shitty guys and picks up the pieces they leave you in. Buys you your favorite foods when you have a bad day, surprises you with “just thinking of you” gifts, and drops whatever he’s doing the second you need him.

He’s attempted dating, desperately tried to get you out of his heart and make room for someone else - he fails each time. Miserably.

So tonight, that all changes.

You’re attending the annual Hero Gala together tonight, just like you have for the last four years. Bakugo always asks you to be his plus one as it keeps people away from him and he gets to spend time with you…rather, gets to see you dressed to the nines and have you on his arm all night long. It’s the one day a year he gets to pretend you’re his.

You’ve recently gotten a huge promotion in your line of work and he’s broken the top 10 of the hero charts - what better time than now to shoot his shot? He’s waited long enough, run through every excuse in the book why not to tell you how he feels.

The night winds down and the two of you get back into his car, sitting in silence for the ride home. That’s not uncommon for you two, but Bakugo’s reading too much into it tonight. It makes his hands tremble on the wheel, white knuckling the pleather from nerves. Once he pulls up to your apartment complex, he turns the car off and gets out to open your door for you.

To his surprise, you invite him in.

“I have a surprise for you!”

Bakugo’s whole body is tense at this point. What could you have for him?

“Here, open it.” You hand him a small box wrapped in orange paper. “It’s not much and a little cheesy, but congratulations on breaking the top 10!”

He opens the package to find a golden bracelet in a box with the inscription “plus ultra, dynamight!” on the underside of it.

“Ya didn’t have to get me shit, but thank you. I love it.”

He hugs you immediately, scooping you into a loving embrace and relishing in the excuse to have skin contact with you.

“I, uh, actually have somethin’ for you, too.” His voice waivers while he fiddles with his jacket pocket. You raise an eyebrow while waiting for him to present…whatever it is he had.

Bakugo pulls out a small box of his own, handing over the velvet jewelry case. You gingerly take it from his palm and can’t help but notice he’s shaking like a leaf.

“Are you okay, Kat? You’re shaking.”

“Just…open it.”

And you do - revealing a beautiful rose gold locket inside. It’s in the shape of a heart, dainty yet big enough to fit a minuscule picture. Before you open it, he stops you by gently touching your hand. He’s trying to hold eye contact with you, but keeps darting between your gaze and the ceiling.

“I’m sorry if this seems outta nowhere, but it’s been eatin’ me alive for years. And if it’s too much, we can forget it ever happened.”

You tilt your head at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Oh. The locket.

Time crawls to a halt as you pry open the locket, peering into the small enclosure to see two things - a picture of the two of you on the left and a small handwritten phrase on the right.

‘I love you. -Kats’

The silence in the apartment is deafening. Bakugo’s vibrating out of his skin while awaiting a semblance of a response to his confession. You’re normally easy to read, but in the moment, he’s struggling to observe how you could be feeling. It’s driving him fucking insane. He starts to feel regret, embarrassment settling in his bones as he bites his lip.

He just ruined everything. The precious friendship you two had - gone. He knew that locket was a stupid idea.

Bakugo’s preparing himself for your rejection. The tears are building and the lump in his throat solidifies. He attempts to keep himself together as he begins to croak out an apology.

“Look, I shoulda—”

“Say it.”

Bewilderment is an understatement as he recoils at your demand. He blinks the stray tears away, all the breath he had being stolen away by your words. He swallows thickly, never thinking he’d get this far in the conversation. He was fully prepared to high tail it outta there, not…stay.

“Wha—”

“Tell me you love me.”

This can’t be real.

Bakugo’s body moves on its own, closing the gap between you two in under the dim light of your entry way. He cradles your jaw, thumbing over the apple of your cheek and studying your eyes as he takes a deep breath. This is the moment he’s been waiting for - the one he’s been yearning over. The opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels, how much you mean to him.

Four words is all he needs.

“I fucking love you.”

You can’t help but laugh, maybe a little too loudly as Bakugo’s cheeks turn strawberry in color.

“It’s about damn time. I love you too.”

His heart pounds, his legs feel like jello, his muscles stiffen. And yet, he powers through it all.

Your lips meet for the first time - the kiss is soft, sweet, careful.

When you part, his vision blurs a bit, overwhelmed by the emotions swelling in his chest. His lips are slightly parted behind heavy breaths, taking in the moment he was so graciously given.

“I didn’t wanna get in your way.”

You laugh. “Then don’t be in my way, come with me.”

God, he was such an idiot. A lovesick fool blinded by his own infatuation to see that his best friend loved him, too.

You hand the locket to Bakugo and spin around while holding up your hair. He tenderly places the chain around your neck and secures the clasp, letting the metal fall to your collarbone.

“I’m all yours, Katsuki.”

You always have been.

[helluvapoison]

how would the overlords propose?

Say Yes

how the overlords would propose

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Romance isn’t an afterthought to her, as hard as that is to believe. Carmilla is a very passionate woman… it just comes after logic. Whether you knew it or not, you’ve been put to the test much earlier on. (How you treat her daughters and how they like you is the most important part, if you didn’t pass you wouldn’t have made it this far)

By now she knows you’re worthy and she’ll bring you into her world permanently. Carmilla plans something intimate. She surprises you in her office for a candlelit dinner, courtesy of her private chef! She is a businesswoman first so she gets straight to the point and asks for your hand, literally, slipping the band into your finger.

“Marry me,” Carmilla says, uncharacteristically soft, “With you at my side, I will be complete.”

˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Telling himself there’s no rush, that he could wait a thousand more lifetimes to make you completely his, doesn’t cure the urgency to do it anyways. He’s seen any ounce of goodness down here nabbed before anyone else can take it for themselves. Zestial never claimed to be unselfish, only patient. He tests the question to himself first very early on. Then he phrases it differently to you or refers to himself as your husband to others. You mistake it for a slip up and smile anyways. A delightful sign in his eyes.

Zestial is pleased that you don’t suspect it. How could you when he’s merely being his usual, charming self? He takes you strolling down the same path you took when he first began courting you. Ever the gentleman, he pauses before the bridge over the river of magma and actually kneels.

“Would thou spend the rest of this infernal afterlife beside thyself? Say yes and I swear never to stray and never to allow harm to befall thee. Thou shall only know happiness from this moment on.”

˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Love at first sight doesn’t exist so do not twist his words when he says he knew you belonged to him the moment you met. Feelings were bothersome and you flooded his entire being with them with a simple gaze. Lingering between the emotions was always pain, which he was familiar with. Unfortunately for him, the cure for his ailment was always you. Marriage was not in the cards for either of you. Alastor thought he had no intention of going through such hassle until he couldn’t stop staring at the vacant spot on your ring finger. Bothersome.

Truly you had no idea what he was plotting. It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you to his radio tower, going over notes with him or just quietly hanging about while he worked. He told you there would be a guest on his next show and he wanted to rehearse the questions. Simple enough. Before you even read the last one Alastor stopped you with a finger to the lips,

“Pardon my dear, you’ve been a wonderful co host— utterly indispensable these past few years— but that’s my line!” There’s a flicker of hesitation before his smile takes a slightly gentler form, a side of Alastor only you’re privy to, “Will you marry me?”

˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

Since she was married a few times already, you thought Rosie would be over the whole thing by now. Well you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried! She adores weddings, from organizing them to being in them; the whole shabang is right up her alley! There was a reason her ex husbands didn’t work out but you don’t have to worry about the whys and whatnots. You’re oh so very special to Rosie, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing you!

The fact you think marriage is off the table has her giddy. She loves having the element of surprise! Cannibal’s left and right are in on the plot, making sure you’re exactly where you need to be all day long until you reach the town square at sunset. Crimson rose petals lead you to the gazebo where candles are lit all around your Radiant Rosie. She smiles so fondly at you it makes your knees weak as you climb the steps to reach her. She poured her love into two pages, prepared to make it her best speech ever but the second you were in front of her everything went out the window!

“Oh! I can’t wait another minute! Marry me, won’t you?”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ the vees might get their own part cause, i feel, they’re particular about marriage