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thewidowsledger · 3 months ago

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Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 13: Option | 6.3k

Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, making out, smut, top!Natasha, Natasha has a penis, bottom!reader, cunnilingus, fingering (r receiving), arguing, cursing, hostage taking, drugging and kidnapping (I really don't wanna add this because it's a huge spoiler lol)

Author's Note: I added additional details on chapter 12 a few days ago after it was posted, so for those who have already read chapter 12, you might want to read it again because you might have read the unupdated version.

I am not a ballerina nor a professional one, I just wrote what I have researched so pls excuse my stupid mistakes here. This is not proofread and I wrote this chapter in a rush ;')) we are here to burn the slow xD and finally answer who's a lot better? Your vibrator or Natasha?

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⧗

You began to back away, contemplating your next move and your instinctive act of kissing her. Natasha suddenly took hold of you, her sly hands slipping gently on your lower back. She then pulled you back to her, pulling you into a passionate, heated kiss. This time it's not just a lingering kiss on the cheek, not just for a fraction of a second.

The kiss grew more passionate and heated with each passing second. You found yourself moaning against Natasha's mouth, the sounds escaping your lips involuntarily.

There was an undeniable hunger and need in the way Natasha's tongue fought for dominance in your mouth, and you let her have it, giving her control as she ravaged you with her lips—almost as if she couldn't get enough of you. You could only grip her shoulders, thumbs digging into her neck creating a crescent mark in her skin.

Natasha pulled away suddenly, her lips leaving you—leaving you wanting more. You almost chased her mouth, the string of saliva connecting your lips together.

Her gaze upon you was calm and collected, but beneath the surface, you can see the hunger and the dark desire in her eyes. She looked at you as if you were her last meal and she was starving. Her gaze landed on your agape plump mouth again.

“What if you could be all those three at once?”

You looked at her, still trying to catch your breath after the hungry kiss, “What?”

“You heard me.” She husked, her mouth inch closer to yours.

“Wh—” you breathe, “What do you mean?”

She leaned in dangerously closer, her voice dropping to a more sultry tone as she responded, “Well, I suppose it's my job to make sure you don't have to resort to those two options of yours. After all, I wouldn't want you becoming someone else's trophy.”

You felt a shiver course through you as her hand traced down the curve of your back, her touch electric against your skin as she pulled you even closer that you can feel the bulge against her jeans.

“But I’ll offer you a third option,” she continued, her tongue darted out in a swift second, slowly licking her lips as if savoring the remnants you left in her mouth. “You can be all those three at once. A degree holder which you already are, and…”

“Be my personal stripper and my trophy wife.”

The offer were bold and unexpected, yet somehow, they felt right coming from her mouth.

And only a dumb person would decline that offer.

Your breath coming in sharp pants as you look up at her, your eyes captivated by her dilated pupils and parted lips.

“I…I’m a virgin, Nat…” you stuttered in a whisper, your cheeks turning red at your admission.

“That’s not what I asked of you, detka…” her piercing green eyes studying you in a way that made your heart race faster than normal. “But if you're gonna be my wife, I guess I’ll have to know that.”

“I’m gonna ask you again…” her eyes never left yours, you can feel her breath fanning over your lips.

“Can you be my personal stripper and my trophy wife?”

She actually didn't have to ask, again.

You couldn't resist anymore. You surged forward, pulling Natasha into a fierce kiss. Your lips crashed together as your tongues danced in an intimate embrace. You locked your arms around her neck as she scooped your ass up, wrapping your legs around her waist. She carried you over until you could feel the cold pole against your back.

Natasha's lips moved down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Her breath was hot against your skin as she teased you with soft nips and licks. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, making it hard for you to keep still.

She slowly lowered you back to your feet, her hands now working to unbutton your silk top.

With your top completely off, Natasha let her gaze wander down your body, taking in every curve and inch of skin. Her eyes gleamed with desire as she traced her fingers along the edge of your lace bra.

"You're so fucking beautiful, detka."

And with that, your bra is completely out of your body.

Natasha's hands were now on your breasts, caressing and kneading them as if trying to memorize every inch of your body.

“Is this okay? Detka?” She asked, eyeing you for any sign of discomfort.

“Please, Nat. Make me yours.”

And she did.

Natasha immediately leaned down, her mouth replacing her fingers on your nipple. She sucked and teased it with her tongue, causing you to arch my back with pleasure.

Her mouth was all over you, her tongue tracing a hot, wet path down your body. She moved your legs open and lowered herself between your legs that made you shudder. When she's finally kneeling down in front of you, you let her tug your silk pajamas together with your panties until they're pooling down your feet. She then brought your right leg over her shoulder.

She looked up at you with those piercing dilated green orbs before her tongue flicked against your clit.

“Oh fuck!” Both of your hands gripped her braided hair tightly from the pleasure as she continued to lap you.

Natasha pulled back from you for a moment, her lips glistening with your arousal. “You taste heavenly,” she purred, her voice husky with desire as she locked eyes with you. Her gaze was intense and full of hunger, making you tremble with need.

She brought herself back into you, moaning and sending even more pleasure through your body as she expertly brought you to the edge. This time she plunged one finger inside you with a hunger that matched your own. You can feel the rough texture of her finger through your core but it was immediately coated with your arousal.

Natasha still managed to smirk as she continued to eat you out, it's just one finger and she could feel your tightness clenching around her finger, pulling her deeper inside. That made her crave for you even more.

It has been so long since you had a vibrator inside you, but this one's not a vibrator and you would do anything to come right now.

Her tongue focused on licking and sucking your clit while her forefinger came in and out of your hole, fingering you in rhythmic thrusts that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Oh god, fuck, Natasha!” you gasped, your right hand flew to your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. She's for sure a lot better than any vibrator you had in your whole life.

Natasha's fingers moved faster and deeper, pressing against that sweet spot inside you. The wet sound of her lapping your core and her finger pushing in and out of your tight hole.

“Oh, Nat I’m gonna!”

And you finally lost all control, crying out in release as your orgasm overtook you. Your body shook and trembled, every muscle tensed as you rode out the waves of pleasure Natasha brought you.

Natasha swiftly pulled your panties and silk pajamas back in place as she stood. You were still high from pleasure and the only thing that keeps you steady is the pole behind you. Your hands are still tangled in her hair and she's now in front of you, she eyed you as she slowly licked her lips and her arousal coated finger. Despite you being high in pleasure, you didn't miss that moment and you could only bite your lip at the sight of her. Your hands moved to her cheeks and desperately pulled her into a kiss, you moaned as you tasted yourself in her mouth.

Natasha gently pulled away and took her leather jacket and let it hang it to your shoulders to cover your bare chest. She now swiftly carried you in a bridal style.

“You did so good for me, detka. So good.” she murmured in your ears, pressing a light kiss against it.

You both left the room, leaving your silk top and lacy bra behind.

⧗

“Maria, we need to tighten up the security,” Natasha said, her voice brooking no argument. “It's not secure if Yelena can just waltz in unannounced like this.”

Maria sighed, crossing her arms, “Did you two talk?”

“If by 'talk' you mean papers scattered on the floor, broken glasses, and a slightly bruised wall,” she responded casually—too casually, “then yes, we talked.”

Maria sighed once again, a sense of weary resignation in her eyes. She had grown up with Natasha, witnessing firsthand the tumultuous relationship between her and her sister. When Natasha had decided to start building her own empire, Maria had been the first one to offer her support—she was even the one who told Natasha to start her own business so she could finally get away from her family.

“There was a change of plans,” Maria confirmed to Natasha, “Is it true that you weren't able to finish the meeting that was held here earlier? Because the associates asked to move to a different location.”

Natasha already knew about this and she nodded in confirmation. It was supposed to be done but your unexpected appearance disrupted the flow of the meeting, but Natasha didn't blame you, though, because she liked the events that followed after that.

If she would have you in that position again—you gripping her hair—pushing and bucking your core down to her mouth as you try to muffle your cries while she eats you out. Hell, she would let you disrupt every meeting she’ll have.

“You good?”

Maria's voice pulled Natasha out of her reverie, and she tried to shake off the thoughts that had been preoccupying her mind just moments ago. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks as she hastily responded, “Yeah, I'm good.”

Maria just hummed but she clearly knows what's going on in the redhead's mind.

“I had Y/N’s clothes that were left in that room put in the laundry.”

Natasha swallowed a lump on her throat as Maria walked towards her, “You might wanna tie your hair back.”

Natasha's hands instinctively went to her braid, her fingers tangling in the thick strands of hair as she pulled it over her shoulder. The hair tie had already been removed, leaving her braid slightly loose in its end.

“You left this too.” She placed a plain black hair tie on her desk, you might have accidentally tugged it while you two…

“Damn, Nat I didn't know that's the purpose of the room you asked me. I thought it was a studio or something.” Maria raised a brow before heading to Natasha's office door.

“Hey! It-it is a studio!” Natasha couldn't help but feel a little defensive as Maria teased her. She tried to maintain her composure, although the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed the things that were going into her mind.

She made it for you, it is a studio, at least that's how she planned it to be.

“Sure…sure, but I wouldn't get shocked if it would turn into a sex den.” Maria teased once again, winking at her best friend before she shut the door.

“Hey! Maria! Comeback here!”

⧗

You slowly blink your eyes open, feeling the soft silk of the sheets against your skin. As you push the comforter aside, realization dawns upon you—you're not wearing anything on your top, and Natasha's jacket is lying haphazardly on the pillow beside you.

Memories of the previous night flood your mind, a cocktail of sensations and emotions. You can still feel the remnants of her touch on your skin and the scent of her perfume lingers on the jacket—on you, sending a shiver down your spine.

With wide eyes, you quickly rush towards the full-length mirror in your room. As you look at your reflection, a wave of surprise and a little bit of shock washes over you. The marks on your skin it's like a roadmap outlining Natasha's path along your body.

You carefully trace your fingers down from your neck, tracing the marks that continue down to the valley of your breasts.

“Be my personal stripper and my trophy wife.”

“Fuck…” you screw your eyes shut at the memories.

Every touch, every caress, every sensation that Natasha had brought out in you came rushing back like a tidal wave. The need for her, the aching desire for her touch, was overwhelming. You closed your eyes tightly, your body instinctively reacting to the recollections of her lips and hands on your skin.

Your eyes scan the table next to your bed, and you spot a white box adorned with red ribbons. Curiosity piqued, you reached out to the box and saw a note tucked into the lid.

“A small trophy, for my wife.”

You bite your lip to the words of Natasha's note. The thought of being marked and claimed in this way awakened a primal part of you that longs to be desired and owned by her.

As you peer inside the box, you find that it contains a single item, a beautiful pair of pink pointe shoes. Your eyes start to glisten with tears as you gently touch the shoe. This one was different, so much more exquisite and perfect compared to the one you had before. Those were cheap, thrift store finds that you had to painstakingly repair and patch up. This new shoe seemed so much... better. It looked elegant and more importantly, it looked comfortable. But you weren't sure if you could wear it; your feet were used to the pain and torture that came with the cheap shoes you usually danced in. You let another tear fall down your cheek before you put the box down and slipped onto some comfortable clothes.

⧗

You had walked to the room Natasha said she made for you, seeking solace and a place to immerse yourself in your dance. An unfamiliar music played softly in the background, a random selection that you didn't recognize but chose to dance to anyway.

As you continued to dance, you looked at the wide wall mirror eyeing your reflection, you observed your movements. The music pulsated through the room, you began to perform a series of ballet moves that you’ve learned on your own. You're a quick learner, you’ve only seen these steps at least once and you can do it neatly in a blink of an eye.

Your body moves with grace and precision. You twirled in elegant pirouettes, extending your leg and pointing your toes during tendus, gracefully arched yourself in arabesques, and leaped through the air with powerful grand jetes. You allow yourself to lose in the movement, each step and twirl flowing effortlessly, your body becoming one with the rhythm and the space around you.

Your dancing was interrupted by the sound of the door opening forcefully. You turned to see Natasha standing at the threshold, her breath labored and her shoulders tensed.

“Natasha?” you ran towards her, your heart in yout throat when you saw the blood seeping through the fabric of her shoulders. The sight stopped you in your tracks and you reached out to touch her, your fingers trembling as they traced over the wetness of the fabric.

“I’ll find Maria.” you said firmly, trying to pull your wrists free from Natasha's grip. But she tugged you back, her eyes pleading with you not to leave her. “No,” she whispered, her was voice broken and vulnerable. “Please don't go. There's a kit behind those speakers," Without a second thought, you ran towards the speakers, moving them aside to reveal a small black case. You opened it up to find bandages, gauze, and painkillers.

Natasha walked slowly towards the pole, her body aching from the injury she had sustained. She sat down heavily, resting her back against the cool metal, and let out a deep sigh of relief, “The shoe fits perfectly?” she asked as she closed her eyes.

“Y-yeah, t-thank you,” you managed to say. And Natasha just hummed but you can feel that she was smiling.

You could feel your mind racing with panic, a million thoughts swirling uncontrollably in your head. Natasha needed you and you are struggling to keep it together. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears as you ran your hands through your sweaty hair, your heart pounding in your chest.

Natasha opened her eyes and looked at you kneeling in front of her. She could see the fear in your eyes and knew that you were trying to keep it under control. She smiled softly, trying to reassure you, “Come here,” she gently took your arm and pulled you on her lap.

“This seems normal to you.” You huffed, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

It is indeed normal for Natasha to walk back from her latest business, her body covered in bruises and scratches, her clothes tattered, and a gunshot wound on her thigh—it's a lifestyle.

She tugged at the fabric of her sleeves, pulling them up to reveal a fresh cut on her arm, she was stabbed. She winced slightly as you began to clean it, her eyes focusing on you as she gently circled her thumbs on your waist.

“Does Maria know about this?” you quivered.

“No, later maybe, yeah,” rambled, groaning as she adjusted herself. Making you move slightly on her lap.

“I need to call her,” you insisted, but Natasha shook her head, digging her fingers on your waist, “No, you're gonna stay here.”

As you finished cleaning her wound, the room fell into a moment of silence. Natasha sat quietly, her gaze unfocused as she took deep breaths, trying to steady herself. You couldn't help but feel a wave of anxiety wash over you, wondering if you were doing everything right.

The silence became too much to bear, and just as you were about to break the tension, Natasha spoke up. “You scared?” she asked, her voice softer than usual. In that moment, all the worry and fear you had been holding back came pouring out.

“Of course I am!”

You harshly wiped the tears that started streaming down your face. Natasha watched you cry, a pained expression in her eyes. She felt guilty, like she was putting you through unnecessary emotional turmoil.

She moved a strand away from your face, “I don't like seeing you like this,” Natasha whispered, so softly that you almost didn't hear her. But the words were enough to make you stop you, your hands frozen in mid-air as you looked at her. Your eyes were puffy and glossy.

“Natasha,” you breathe, “I don't like seeing you like this too,” you managed to say between sobs, you softly jabbed her chest with your finger. You cannot bear to see her in pain too, her going home with wounds, bruises, stabs, gunshots and for her it's nothing? Maybe for her it is, but for you it's not. What if she comes home cold? Lifeless?

“You don't deserve this.”

Now, you huffed hearing it from her, “Taking everything back?” your face hardened into a smirk as you wiped the tears out your face and quickly moved away from her lap. Natasha furrowed her brows, confused at your question. She tried to chase you to make you stay in that position, she wanted you close to her—now you just moved away.

“So you asking me to be your personal stripper and your trophy wife was what?” Your voice trembled slightly as you voiced your thoughts, “Out of lust? To get to me? To use me?” you chuckled slightly.

“Detka, that's not what it is,” her voice cracked, she didn't want you to think that she was just using you. She never intended that.

“You wouldn't wish a life with me!”

“What if I want this, Natasha?” You asked the question before you could even think, “What if I want this? What if I want you, Natasha? What if I want to be with you?” The words tumbled out of your mouth, each one a confession that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You gulped the lump on your throat, turning your back at her as you sob uncontrollably.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed your words. She watched as you turned away from her and her instincts kicked in. Without thinking, she stood despite the pain on her shoulder. Then, she moved closer, her hands gently reaching for your waist.

At first, Natasha was taken aback when you swatted her hands away. You turned to look at her, she saw the clear view of your face—the uncertainty and pain in your eyes, followed by a flash of something else - desire? She didn't think twice as she reached for you again, pulling you closer by your elbows.

“Natasha, no,” your voice barely above a whisper. You tried to move to push her away but Natasha was determined. She pulled you closer still, your face just inches from hers now. Her eyes locked on yours.

“Y/N, don't fight me,” gently, her hands moved down to your cheek and you didn't fight back. Tears started streaming down your face again as you cling to her touch, she looked at you before closing the gap of your lips, pulling you into a searing kiss. She could taste the saltiness of your tears on her lips and it only made her want to hold you tighter, wanting to stay like this with you forever.

You managed to pull away from her and Natasha tried chasing your lips but you immediately stepped back. You stood there for a couple of seconds, waiting for her to say something, you wanted her to say something but no words came out of her mouth.

You wiped your tears away and swallowed a sob before speaking, ��I…uhh, I’ll find Maria.” With that, you turned and left the room not daring to look at her because you know what's going to happen if you do.

⧗

You just found clinging to Yelena as she drives her bike away from the manor. You just called Maria to get Natasha and you went into the kitchen when Yelena approached you and proposed an idea, suggesting a ‘little escapade’ as she calls it when she saw you all vulnerable alone after your encounter with her sister. And without hesitation, you found yourself nodding in agreement. The manor had been stifling and you desperately craved a breath of fresh air.

You were easy, too easy.

Yelena stopped the bike at a nearby ice cream place, she turned to you and inquired, “So, where do you wanna go?”

Your response was a nonchalant shrug, not having any specific destination in mind. Sensing your lack of a preference, Yelena grinned. “Let's grab some ice-cream then,” she said, gesturing towards the ice-cream parlor.

Yelena immediately went straight to the counter and placed the order for both of you, not even bothering to ask what you wanted. You sat silently, patiently waiting for her to finish. It was your first time leaving the manor in what felt like forever, and you relished the opportunity to be out and about once again. But as you sat there waiting, your mind began to drift to Natasha once again. Thoughts of her started to plague your mind, you couldn't help but replay the argument in your head, recalling every word and the addicting touch of hers. You tried to make sense of what had happened and how things had spiraled out—how you spiraled out.

You want her, you want to be with her. You long to hear the simple words that she used to soothe your worries and fears, that you just have to stay and be with her and no harm will come after you. Yet, deep down, maybe you yearned for more than just those words, maybe you wanted her to say the same thing—that she wants you and she wants to be with you.

“Ice-cream for your thoughts?” Yelena waved the ice-cream cone on your face, pulling you out of your deep thoughts of her sister.

You immediately took it and walked out of the ice-cream parlor and Yelena walked after you, “How much do I owe you?” You asked.

“Why? Do you have money with you?” She asked back, huffing knowing that you have none.

“No,” you replied quietly, savoring the taste of the strawberry ice cream. “I only have a black dress, a pair of heels, and a knife,” you mumbled. “And lingerie,” you added as an afterthought.

In truth, you barely had anything that was truly your own. All you had were the clothes you had worn the night you worked at Valkyrie's and that's everything you got since ending up in Natasha's penthouse.

After finishing your ice cream, you saw a nearby library. And you made a bold request, despite your attempts to keep your facade of aloofness intact. You tried to maintain a certain distance from Yelena. Yes, you accepted her ‘little escapade’ but that doesn't mean that you had forgotten how she had treated you since the day you two met. Her harsh attitude and scathing insults still echoed in your mind and you couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment and wariness whenever you were near her. But right now, you have no time for that, you want peace and a breather.

“I want to go inside,” you said, your voice betraying a hint of pleading despite your efforts to sound indifferent. “Please.”

“You look cute when you beg.”

Irritation flared in you at Yelena's mocking tone and teasing words. You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, you licked your thumb after you finished your ice-cream to get the small crumbs left of the cone. With doe eyes, you stared at her that caused her to almost choke at her ice-cream.

“Yeah, thanks, your sister hears it a lot,” you replied with a wink, before crossing the street towards the direction of the library leaving her behind.

“Zlyushchaya suka.” (Feisty bitch) She whispered under breath before running after you.

As you entered the library, the aroma of old books and the hush of whispered conversations enveloped you. You approached the counter and without wasting any time, you signed your name on the guest book, eager to immerse yourself in the library's collection of books. Yelena followed suit, walking over to the counter and casually scratching her name onto the page.

As you maneuvered through the library, you were drawn to a section filled with the works of Emily Dickinson. Your eyes landed on her collection, and a sense of comfort washed over you. You had a deep fondness for the poet's work, and you eagerly reached out to pick up one of her books.

Yelena, meanwhile, was casually browsing nearby. When she saw what book you had chosen, her eyes widened momentarily,

“You read Dickinson too?”

“Wild nights, wild nights, were I with thee wild nights should be, our luxury…” You lazily recited just to prove her that you do read Dickinson's works. You grabbed a book that caught your eye and walked towards the blonde, you placed it on the top of the book she's reading.

“Grumpy Monkey,” Yelena read the title to herself. Her mouth agaped slightly offended at what you did, she immediately immersed herself to look for a perfect book to give you.

Yelena approached you with a cocky smirk, slamming a book onto the table. With a hint of mockery in her tone, she asked, “You live there?” you looked at the book entitled: Bitch Planet, Volume 1: Extraordinary Machine

You flashed a book in her face, as if you're ready for this, “Mr. Author Lewis here wants to give you an advice on how to raise your I.Q.” She read the title in her mind, How to Raise Your I.Q. by Eating Gifted Children.

“Okay, that’s alarming,” Yelena pointed out, which made you giggle. She returned to look for more books and spotted a book with a hilariously controversial title. She couldn't resist the urge to call out to you in a loud whisper, waving the book in her hand. “Hey, hey!”

Eating People is Wrong you read, despite the distance between you, Yelena's infectious laughter managed to reach your ears. Her boisterous chuckle filled the library, causing a few heads to turn in your direction. You immediately shush her causing the blonde to slowly and pretend to look for a book to read.

“Games You Can Play with Your Pussy; and Lots of Other Stuff Cat Owners Should Know.” You read in disgust and you turned to look at Yelena who was sitting in front of you, her eyes watered as she fought back the tears forming in her eyes, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Terrible book title,” you remarked. She pulled another one that made you roll your eyes, did she really just collect books with controversial, alarming and terrible titles?

You sighed as you read the title again. “Still Stripping After 25 Years,” you gasped, which made Yelena slap the table, still trying not to burst into laughter. You didn't even read the blurb of the book before you judged, “They should not put this in a public library!” You whisper-shouted.

“Okay, that's enough,” you chastised her, she was sitting on her seat in an almost slouching manner and you found yourself crossing your arms across your chest as you raised a questioning brow at her but she instantly straightened up and adjusted her vest.

It feels like you're with a kid, honestly.

“I like your vest.”

Yelena’s eyes widened at your compliment, “I just absolutely love vests with lots of pockets. They're so practical, and they just have that perfect blend of style and function, you know?” she giddily rambled. You just hummed as you flipped the book you’re reading.

“It's actually Natasha’s,” the revelation made you look at her, “I took all her clothes when she left.”

“How long has it been since she left? If you don't mind me asking…” you inquired carefully, hoping that you didn't cross any line.

“18 years, papa made her manage the business with him at 16 then she left when she was 19.”

“She started that young?” Yelena just hummed, her energy immediately dropping down.

“You know, your sister loves you,” Yelena immediately eyed you after you said those words, “Even though you always come around her property with no invitations,” you chuckled as you closed the book that you had no plans on finishing reading.

She just shook her head slightly as if she's trying to focus her mind and remove thoughts in her brain.

She hates you, she reminded herself.

“Let's go out, go for a walk.” You gave her a smile and grabbed her hand, the closeness making the blonde guilty.

As you and Yelena stepped outside the library, you noticed a small box on the sidewalk, filled with six adorable puppies, each of them looking at you with curious eyes. A $20 sign hung over the box, indicating that they were for sale. Poor adorable puppies just being sold?

Yelena's phone suddenly vibrated from her pocket, causing her to break away from your grasp. She looked at you apologetically and told you that she will just get it for a second. You nodded and informed her that you will go see the puppies, you pointed the direction so she'll know where you are before you both went your separate ways.

“The delivery should be done in 15 minutes, we’ve waited for so long.”

Yelena's heart dropped as she saw the text on the small screen. Guilt and dread, that's what she feels right now. She made a huge mistake on getting too close to you, this wasn't supposed to happen, she never intended to let her guard down and warm up to you.

She hated the fact that you have no crumb of flaws in you, well yes, of course you have your own flaws but it's not enough for her to hate. She tried testing you as if she was digging the pandora's box, it's nowhere to be found. She can't find any reason to hate you.

And she hate you for that. She hates you, she did. She hated you.

Yelena's heart raced as she desperately searched for you, but you were nowhere in sight. She spotted a two black van meters away from her and panic gripped her as she frantically looked for you. But suddenly, she saw you waving at her, a small puppy cradled in your arms. She immediately ran towards your direction.

“Can we get this puppy for Natasha? You know your sister always wanted a pup—”

You were taken aback when Yelena withdrew a wad of cash from her pocket and swiftly pulled out a $100 bill. Without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed your arm and quickly yanked you away from the scene, she wasn't even able to get her change.

“I need to get you back to the manor.”

The golden retriever puppy was whining in your arms and you cooed it even though you're being dragged by the blonde.

Yelena's panic intensified as her gaze darted anxiously in different directions. She noticed the same van she saw earlier moving slowly, following closely behind the both of you. Her focus shifted to you, and she watched you coo at the puppy in your arms, blissfully unaware of the danger that was trailing behind. Yelena's heart wrenched as she realized that she had never intended for things to take this turn—with you.

Yelena fished out her motorcycle keys from her pocket. She quickly straddled the bike and turned on the ignition.

“Get in.”

Despite her brusque tone, you quickly obeyed her and swung your leg over the bike, settling in behind her. Suddenly, without any warning, she gunned the engine and the motorcycle shot forward, taking off like a rocket down the street. The small puppy in your arms gave a slight yelp, startled by the sudden movement. You instinctively cradled the furry bundle closer to your body.

“Can you drive slow?” you asked worrily as you try to balance yourself in the bike, you weren't holding anything for support just the little puppy in your arms.

As Yelena prepared to turn the corner, her eyes widened in horror as she suddenly saw a van blocking the road and she can't just maneuver around it. Yelena's heart raced, and she had no choice but to hit the brakes, bringing the motorcycle to a skidding halt. The puppy in your arms whimpered softly at the sudden stop. Yelena considered backtracking, but her hopes were dashed as she saw the van that had been pursuing you earlier was now blocking the return path as well.

“Yelena? What's happening?” You asked as you were practically being trapped by the two vans.

Yelena could only grip on the handlebars at your question, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep her composure. She didn't give an immediate answer, her gaze flickering between the van that blocked your path and the one behind, trying to figure out a way out. After a minute of contemplating, she gave up.

“Just stay here. I'm sorry.” Yelena told you, you nodded slightly as you adjusted yourself in the seat of her bike.

Why is she apologizing?

Yelena dismounted the motorcycle and slowly approached the van. The driver's door opened and a bald burly, threatening-looking man stepped out, a hardened scowl on his face.

The bald man's voice lowered into a menacing growl as he confronted Yelena. “You tryna run away from us?”

“No.”

The man's expression darkened and he took a step closer to her. “Give us the girl now,” he demanded, leaving no room for negotiation, though this is a negotiation.

In a snap Yelena seized the burly man and she held him like a shield, using him as a means to keep the others at bay. As the other men started to exit the van, their faces hardened and their hands reaching for their weapons, Yelena's eyes darted from one to the other.

“Let the girl go and I'll let this bald-headed demon man go.”

“Yelena what's happening?” You called out to her in a whimper.

“I'm sorry, Y/N. Please come here.”

You immediately obeyed her command, slowly stepping off the bike and moving closer to her. As you did so, you turned around, trying to keep an eye on the men who were approaching from behind.

As you stood behind Yelena, the weight of the situation started to sink in. Your heart pounded in your chest and fear gripped you. You clutched the puppy tightly, its small form shaking slightly in your arms. Panic coursed through your veins and you couldn't help but look around, searching for a way out or any sign of help. “Y-Yelena?” you stuttered.

“Y/N, forgive me. I promise I’ll get you back to Natash—”

She wasn't able to finish her words when she suddenly dropped to the ground, unconscious after being shot with a tranquilizer the men had fired at her. Your heart froze and you could barely comprehend what was happening.

“Yelena!” Your voice was filled with anguish as you called out to her, tears streaming down your face.

The man she has been holding captive earlier stalked towards you and yanked you by your arm. The suddenness of the grab made you release your hold on the puppy. The man's eyes roamed over your body and ripped your top, he quickly inspected your shoulders. Satisfied with what he saw, he glanced up at the other men and shouted, “This is the one!”

“Yelena!” you hollered as the man wrapped his arms around your waist and dragged you. Even in your disoriented state, your survival instincts kicked in. With all the strength you could muster, you tried to fight back against the man who was holding you.

“Fuck you!” You growled, you spat at the face of the man, he was really enraged as he wipe the spit on his face but when he poised to strike you a man intervened grasping his wrist.

“We cannot leave no marks on her,” he calmly said, a sinister smile starting to form on his face.

“Fuck you too!” You shouted, the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you a momentary burst of courage.

He smirked at how feisty you are but he then shushed you and pressed a cloth over your nose and mouth, “You've brought us in so much trouble already, you're gonna pay for it.”

You never stopped to fight back but your limbs started to flail weakly, your attempts to kick and struggle against them proving futile.

The world blurred around you as tears streamed down your face, your voice hoarse from crying out Yelena's name once more before everything started to fade away and the last thing you saw was the small puppy nudging Yelena's unconscious body.

Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

#scheduled post #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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mariclerc · 5 months ago

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hey!... can you write a Charles × horner reader.. where the reader has a crush on since they met.... but Charles doesn't like her very much cuz he thinks she's a nepo baby... but the reader still tries to win his heart.... but one day after a bad race he lashed out on her.... breaking her heart.... later he realizes he also has fellings for her...then ask the reader for forgiveness and a second chance (pls make it a happy ending)... thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for this request! It took me a little while to try to develop it, I hope you like it!! 💗💗

Second chance spark | cl16

Summary: where Charles thinks you're a nepo baby just because of your last name. Warnings: a little angst, horner!reader, christian being an asshole and fluffy fluff.

a/n: let me know if you want a part two!!

Part 2

The paddock of the Spanish Grand Prix is in big move, thousands of people moving from one place to another and there you find yourself, outside of the Red Bull hospitality talking to several of the girls on the team. This is what your life has become, practically, since being the daughter of Christian Horner you can walk around the hospitality and the paddock as many times as you like during the year.

Most people believe that you only walk around the paddock because it is a case of "nepotism", but in reality you are working very hard to be an engineer and earn a place in motorsport and that's why you find yourself doing internships at Red Bull. Also, your relationship with your father is not the best, so it is always a constant argument, but, even if you try not to give it so much importance, it always hurts.

“Oh god girls, look who's coming!” You say excitedly, Charles was walking through the paddock, to you he always looked like an angel, you blush slightly.

Mara, one of the Red Bull pr girls spoke. “Leclerc? Are you trying to charm the competition's sponsors I see.” she jokes and you blush a little.

You rolled your eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, he probably doesn't even know I'm here.” You say and a silence is present between the three of you. “I'm going to say hi.” You say determined.

Lila rise up an eyebrow. “Careful y/n. You don't want to spook the red prince.”

“Oh, please. Like he'd give me the time of the day.” you scoff.

You excuse yourself and stride confidently towards Charles. He notices your approach and his expression becomes guarded.

You've liked Charles since he debuted in the F4 European series, you always thought he was someone quite nice and talented... Besides of being cute, of course, but nothing ever happened between you, you were simply acquaintances. But now since you are always in the paddock you see him every single day and those feelings that you thought were already buried, were reborn with much more strength.

“Hello y/n. Didn't expect to see you here!” he smiles shyly.

“Well, I just came to say hi, a little greeting doesn't go amiss, don't you think?” you say shyly with a soft voice. “Are you nervous about the race?” you asked shyly.

“Yeah, uh, a little bit... But let's see how it goes.” he says trying to avoid your gaze.

“Well, you have a good shot, maybe you can achieve a podium finish.” You say and he looks at you surprised.

“You actually follow the races?” he asks.

You feign offense. “Of course I do, I'm trying to be an engineer! I may not be out there on the track like you and the boys, but I appreciate a good driver when I see one.” you smile brightly.

Charles looks at you for a long moment, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Just make sure you're cheering for the right team on race day in the future.” he says teasingly.

“We'll see about that, Leclerc.” you two share a comfortable silence for a moment. You take a deep breath. “Well, I'll leave you alone, I have to go. But good luck in the race, yeah?” You say with a small smile.

“Sure, see you later! And thanks!” he smiles too.

You smiled back and turned to leave, a triumphant glint in your eyes. Charles watches you go, a genuine smile gracing his features. His heart is probably beginning to soften to let you into it.

***

“Is seriously? You talked to him and he didn't think you were a little innocent girl?” Christian said sitting in his chair in the office.

You were at the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes, you had gone to see some engineers and work with them since you are doing your engineer internship at Red Bull and they have been very generous to you, teaching you everything they know, what you didn't realize was that your father was going to need you to have a talk. Such talks never end well, let's put it that way.

“Well, no... But I think he was being nice.” you say quietly. “I just wanted to wish him good luck, that's all... Just a little greeting... it's not a big deal.”

“You know? It's amazing that you're so stupid and dumb.” He says getting up from his chair. “And also by talking to the enemy, you don't really learn, don't you?” he asked sharply.

He never misses the opportunity to speak badly about you on any occasion, he simply doesn't care about your feelings, he is only interested in the job, winning and that's it. As if that were more important than your well-being as his daughter.

You take a deep breath. “Then let me finish my internship in another team.” you said and he looked at you. “I think it would be better for both you and me. Don't you think?” you said in a whisper.

“What? You really want to finish your silly and stupid internship at Ferrari, right? To be after a man who doesn't give you attention, is it serious?” he says sarcastically, that wasn't your idea but since he puts it on the table it doesn't sound too bad... “How ungrateful you are, to waste the fact that I gave you the opportunity to do the internship here.”

“And it was the only thing you did.” you murmured. “Because, as far as I remember, you haven't done anything else.”

“What did you say, huh? You little bitch.” He said, raising his voice towards you.

“What you fucking heard! Do you think it's not difficult to be under your shadow every day? How tiring it is to have everyone tell you that you are a child of nepotism just because all you did was get me the internship here! And you know that I had to sacrifice many things to get here.” you said in screams, taking everything out of you, all the years of abuse and so on. “And don't come pretending to be a saint because we both know you're not.”

You leave his office and everyone looks at you, but you don't care, you couldn't allow your father to call you names and spoke to you in a not very nice way. Your tears blur your vision as you leave the factory and you run to your car, you feel as if you no longer have a weight on your shoulders, but at the same time you are afraid of what may happen later between the two of you.

***

A couple of weeks later, the Austrian Grand Prix is a blur of disappointment, specially for Charles, since he finished a distant third, strategy blunders costing him a shot at the win against Max. The Red Bull Hospitality is abuzz with post-race celebration, a stark contrast to the muted atmosphere in the Ferrari hospitality across the way.

You stand awkwardly near the doorway, your presence a silent question in the room. Charles sits alone, staring into the bottom of an empty beer glass, his face an iron mask of frustration. A knot of worry tightens in your stomach, that's not the Charles you know, always so cheerful and lively despite everything. It's another version of him, darker and more mysterious.

“Charles?” you asked softly.

He looks up, surprise flickering across his features before hardening back into a grimace.

“What are you doing here?” he said sharply.

“I...I just wanted to see if you were alright.” You say shyly.

His harsh tone stings, cutting through the fragile connection the two of you would built.

“Look y/n, I appreciate the concern, but I need to be alone.” he said sharply.

“But-” hurt creeps into your voice.

He interrupts with his voice rising. “No buts! Don't you get it? This is my job, my life! And today, I failed.”

Tears are pricking at your eyes. “I know it hurts, Charles, but you can't let it consume you.”

He stands abruptly, knocking his chair over with a clatter. “Easy for you to say! You don't have the pressure, the expectations hanging over your head like a damn guillotine! You have everything on a silver platter whenever and however you want!” he say furiously.

His words are a punch to the gut. The simmering tension between you and your father explodes in your mind.

“You think I don't know the pressure? Do you have any idea what it's like living under my father's shadow? To be constantly judged, to have every decision questioned?” you say with a shaking voice.

Charles stares at you, his anger momentarily eclipsed by surprise.

“I may not be a driver, but I understand this world, Charles... I understand the pressure.” You say as tears form in your eyes.

Your vulnerability hangs heavy in the air. Shame washes over Charles, realizing the depth of his lashing out.

“Y/n, I...” he said with a soft voice.

He reaches out, but you flinches back, a wall of hurt suddenly separating the both of you.

You take a shaky breath. “I think I should go.” you sigh tiredly. “Nice talk.”

You turn towards the door, your heart heavy with a mixture of disappointment and a newfound understanding of the burdens that the both of you share. You run out there with tears running down your cheeks, nothing could have been worse after what happened with your father, but now you lost a person you cared about despite everything.

***

The Italian Grand Prix is in full swing after the summer break. Mechanics scurry around the gleaming red Ferrari, the air thick with pre-race tension. Charles, however, finds himself distracted. He steals constant glances towards the Red Bull garage across the pit lane, searching for a familiar face.

He spots you, standing by Christian, your interaction is tense, your father screams at you while you just only nod at his words while holding a few tears in your shy eyes. A pang of fury shoots through Charles, followed by a wave of regret. His outburst in Austria hangs heavy in the air, a barrier he needs to break. He, despite everything, is moderately informed about what happened between you and your father thanks to Max, and it hurts him not to have approached you much sooner.

The pit lane opens to finally start the grand prix, snapping Charles back to reality. He throws on his helmet, a steely resolve replacing his earlier anxiety.

***

Charles finishes a strong second, the podium it's a little bit bittersweet. He emerges from the car, the cheers of the tifosi a distant echo. All he can think about is you.

He finds you in the Red Bull hospitality, a hesitant knock on the door of your office, announcing his arrival. The room falls silent as he enters.

You stand by the window, your back towards him. Your posture is stiff, but Charles can sense the tremor in your shoulders.

“Y/n?” he say quietly.

You turn slowly, your eyes guarded. The hurt in your gaze is a mirror to his own regret.

“Charles...” you say softly.

There's an awkward silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Charles takes a deep breath.

“I can't apologize enough for Austria. I... I was a complete idiot.” he says.

“Words don't erase the hurt, Charles.” you say in a low voice.

He takes a step closer. “I know. But I wanted you to know... these past few weeks, all I could think about was your words. About the pressure, about being judged... You opened my eyes to a side of you I never knew existed.” He reaches out, hesitantly offering his hand. “And in doing so, I realized... how much I care about you.”

You stare at his hand, then back at his face. A flicker of vulnerability crosses your features before you speak.

“You can't just say things like that, Charles. Not after everything.”

“I know, but I have to try. Because the alternative... the alternative is losing you completely.” says sincerely. He sees a flicker of emotion in your eyes, a flicker that speaks of hope.

“This won't be easy, Charles. My father... Things haven't been so smooth lately between him and I.”

“I know. But maybe, just maybe, we can face it together... Like you said, we both understand this world, the pressure. Maybe we can be each other's support system, not just through wins and losses, but through everything else.” he say softly.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You look at him, a question in your eyes.

“So, what are you saying?” you asked him.

Charles takes a chance, the weight of his feelings pulling him forward. He steps closer, your faces inches apart.

“I'm saying that... give me another chance, please. A chance to prove that I can be the man you deserve.” he whispers. “Please, if you want, I beg you on my knees... I'll do anything, but please give me a chance.”

The air crackles with unspoken emotions. You lean in, closing the distance between the both of you. At first, the kiss is hesitant and at the same time soft and slow, then deepens, a promise unspoken but understood.

Pulling away, Charles searches your soft eyes.

“Is that a yes?” he smiled while blushing.

You smile softly, a genuine smile that reaches your eyes.

“Maybe... How about we can do something casual between us, not business related, just to get to know each other better?” you say shyly.

A grin spreads across Charles' face, relief washing over him like a victory lap. “It's a deal darling.” you giggled.

He leans in for another kiss, the roar of the engines and the crowd outside a distant echo of the race that's just begun – the race for your hearts.

***

The air crackles with a different kind of tension now. You and Charles break apart from your long awaited kiss, foreheads resting against each other. Relief, hope, and a spark of defiance dance in your eyes.

“We should probably get going before someone sees us, don't you think?” you whisper shyly.

Charles nods, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He reaches for the door, ready to usher you out, but it swings open before he can touch it.

Standing in the doorway is Christian, his face a thundercloud. The celebratory atmosphere in the room evaporates, replaced with a chilling silence.

“Y/n! My office. Now.” he says with a strong and demanding voice.

You flinch, your body tensing and shaking at your father's tone, but Charles steps forward, his stance protective.

“Actually, she's not going anywhere Horner.” Charles says calmly.

Christian's gaze snaps to him, fury replacing the icy anger. “And who are you to tell me what to do in my own hospitality suite, Leclerc?” he scoffs.

“Someone who cares about her, a concept you seem to have forgotten.” Charles says with a hard and firm voice.

The room collectively gasps. You reaches out a hand to touch Charles' arm, a silent plea for caution. But Charles shakes you off gently, his green eyes boring into Christian's.

“You judge her, belittle her, just because of your own insecurities. You push her away with every harsh word and raised eyebrow.” Charles says defending you, maybe you and him weren't that close, but probably Max told him about what happened between you and Christian.

Christian lunges forward, his hand raised in a threatening gesture. But Charles doesn't back down, he catches Christian's wrist mid-air, his grip surprisingly strong.

“Don't. Even. Think. About. Touching. Her.” Charles says in a low, dangerous voice. “And if you do, you'll deal with me, is that clear?”

Christian throws Charles a withering look before turning and storming out of the room. The silence that follows is deafening. No one had ever spoken to your father that way, not even Max or Jos, but the fact that Charles was the first to do it was something... Shocking, especially for you.

You let out a shaky breath, your gaze flickering between the slammed door and Charles. “I... Charles.” you say in a shaky whisper.

He whispers back. “Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong sweetie.” he takes your hand in his. “He's such a jerk.” He pulls you towards the door, a newfound determination in his eyes. “We're leaving, now. We can deal with your father later, together, okay?” he says.

You hesitate for a moment, then you nodded in agreement, as you walk out of the Red Bull hospitality, heads turn and whispers follow. But you don't care anymore, you have each other, and that's all that matters.

You two step out into the cool evening air, the roar of the Italian crowd a distant hum. Your hands are intertwined, a silent promise against the warm setting sun.

You two may have a long road ahead, filled with challenges and disapproval, but you'll face it together, a united front against the storm.

“Thank you... For what you did in there.” You say softly, he smiles and brings your hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of your hand.

“It's nothing ma belle, I know I may not know the whole story since the begging, but I'm willing to help you.” he says the same in a whisper.

“I just want to know... Who told you about it?” you asked softly.

“Max told me.” He says and you laugh.

“I thought so! It doesn't bother me that he did it anyway.” you say and let out a giggle while you shake your head. “I think it's something you deserved to know.”

He smiles at you tenderly. “How about we forget this mess with your father with a good pizza, huh?” he says softly.

“And where would we go?” you shyly asked him.

“We can go to my hotel room... Unless you don't want to, I know it would be awkward but... I don't know, ugh.” He said and started babbling, you smiled seeing him like that, it seemed like the cutest thing of all, seeing him nervous about doing something simple with you.

You smiled and placed a soft kiss on his jaw. “I would love to eat pizza with you in your hotel room Charlie.” you say softly. “So it's a date?”

“It's a date.” He says softly as he kisses the tip of your nose and you giggle. “A date between Ferrari's golden boy and the red bull girl.” he says in a whisper while letting out a giggle.

You smiled tenderly. “You couldn't have said it better.” You whispered back.

To think that a couple of months ago you had not imagined that situation, to see Charles against your father and defending you like a true gentleman, but here you two were. Maybe at the beginning not everything was rosy or he simply didn't tolerate you at all due to false "nepotism" status around you, but you both understand how difficult and complicated this world is, maybe with different perspectives, but you two are there to support each other in the ups and downs.

#f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x horner!reader #formula one x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst #charles x horner!reader #charles x reader #mariclerc fics #charles x you

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luveline · 1 year ago

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Girl pls pls write stripper reader and Spencer where she thinks he would never date her bc she’s a stripper and just a sprinkle of angst with lots of comforting fluff and Spencer reassuring

thank u for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.5k

cw mentioned past domestic/workplace abuse, unhealthy eating habits

Someone broke into my apartment. 9:14AM

Spencer reads the message under the table but forgoes discretion when he registers what it says and who it's from. He excuses himself from the round table, something he isn't even sure he's allowed to do, and hurries out onto the landing.

You answer on the second dial. "Hey, did you see my text?" you ask.

"Are you okay?" He squeezes his phone.

"I'm not sure. I'm fine, but my lock is busted and the door won't stay shut."

"Where are you?"

If you're surprised that he's steamrolling, you don't show it. Spencer leaves work to meet you at the coffee shop you've chosen for refuge, your eyes tired, a small bag of your most important possessions hanging on a slumped shoulder. He hugs you straight away.

"I'm fine," you say into his neck.

He hugs you tighter. "That's good," he says, feeling useless, fingers stroking little paths into your shoulders. He pictured the worst from your text, and seeing you in person is the only true mitigator. You'll talk down bruises and black eyes —you have in the past.

He pulls the story from you as you walk back to his apartment, shoulder to shoulder in the cold street. "It was open when I got home, the door, but I did what you asked me to."

"You didn't go in?" he confirms proudly.

"Not at first."

"You really won't call the police?"

"I texted you."

Spencer takes the strap of your bag from you and throws it over his own. "I'm not that kind of cop. I'm not really a cop at all."

"No, you're a fed, which is worse. The girls at work told me to stay away from you." You wipe under your eyes sluggishly. Sleep clings to you like a shadow trailing behind you, ever-present.

He puts his hand behind your back, worried you'll fall up the steps to his apartment building. "They think I'll what, extort you?"

You shake your head, something sad in the slow side to side. "Girls like me have no business around guys like you."

"You probably get too much business from guys like me."

You laugh, but you both know it's not what you meant. Spencers noticed it more and more lately, nothing so obvious until now, this dead set belief you hold that he's one type of person and you're another. He gets that your work isn't what you wanted for yourself when you were growing up. He knows it isn't easy, even on your 'good' nights. It takes a toll to be seen as you are, nothing left private. But you've always said you liked stripping as much as anyone should like their job. "It's a job," you'd said, having barely known him, tired and hungry, curled up on his couch with nowhere else to go. "Only the luckiest get to really enjoy work. S'why it's called work."

He'd hoped, perhaps in a self-absorbed way, that having more support might make you feel better about yourself; he wanted his friendship to give you some confidence, basically. Before you met Spencer there was no one else you could depend on. It's why you stayed working for a man who broke your wrist until Spencer weaselled his way into your life and made you a bed in his living room for the time it took to get you out. His credentials helped, of course, but you survived it because you're resilient. You're awesome. You've done everything you can with what you have and you don't think it's enough.

You and Spencer take the elevator to his floor, and for the twenty seconds it takes to get there, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. He's just about to drop his head on top of yours when the doors open, and the slice of quiet you'd both savoured slips like sand between his fingers.

"I can go back and get some of your stuff," he offers, guiding you the short walk to his door. He passes you the key rather than struggle with the lock himself.

Your hand shakes as you push down the handle. "There's nothing worth going back for."

"Don't say that, you have all your clothes there, your couch. You have things. I'll take my car."

"You hate driving."

"I'd hate someone robbing you even more."

"Robbing me again," you correct, holding the door for him.

You didn't have anything worth the trouble, it seems. You keep your savings in a locked box hidden in the bathroom that they couldn't find, and though your apartment is clean and bigger than the one you lived in before Spencer met you, it's mostly empty. You don't have a TV, you're not a collector. They took the radio off of the refrigerator, your microwave oven, and a box of cosmetic jewellery worth chapel change.

"But it's your stuff. You deserve to have stuff." Spencer drops your bag gently and his with less care by the door.

"It's only until the locksmith can come tomorrow," you say with a yawn. "Let the junkies lavish in my stuff for the next twenty hours."

"That's not a problem for you?"

"I don't have the luxury of that being a problem for me, Spence. What am I supposed to do? The locksmith can't come–"

"There are a hundred locksmiths."

"Not that I can afford." You shrug out of your jacket. "Spence, listen to me. It's okay. I can't ask you to do that, anyways. You've done more than enough for me already," you say, sitting on the couch. You perch for a moment like you're trying to be polite until fatigue overtakes you, and you sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh.

Spencer crosses the space between you and kneels by your feet to untie your shoelaces.

"Don't do that," you mumble, hand over your mouth as a second yawn in as many minutes catches you.

"Why not?" He slips your shoes off, letting his hand rest on your ankle. "Wanna watch that weird cooking show–"

"Why aren't you at work?"

He climbs onto the couch next to you, unafraid to sit shoulder to shoulder. "You were having an emergency."

You rub your face with both hand. "I knew I shouldn't have called you. You can't just leave work because of me, Spencer, what if you get in trouble?"

"Someone I care about needed my help, and Hotch understands that." Spencer puts on his big boy pants with a wince. "Do you get that?"

"I don't really… I don't…" You falter. "We're never going to work. You'll never…"

"I'll never what?" he asks insistently, voice lilting up with a little incredulity. He can't help it.

You refuse to answer, turning your face from his.

Spencer knows what you're going to say. He's bad with girls but he's good at recognising human emotion; he sees the same insecurity in himself as he does in you. He knows the feeling.

You're not right, is the thing.

Spencer would kiss you if he thought that would change your mind. But tired as you are, angry with yourself, defeated, he knows it's not a good idea. He takes your hand instead, sewing your fingers together with a deliberate slowness. He brings his other hand to them and strokes the back of your index finger with his thumb, careful not to disrupt your press on nails. He knows they have a tendency to come off with too much pressure, and you're always losing your glue.

"If they really need me to go, they'll call me. But I'm staying here." His thumb moves down to your knuckle. You have little calluses and cuts and bruises everywhere from dancing. He's seen the contusions that line your thighs on a semi permanent basis. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"Spencer," you murmur.

"Let me take care of you, please," he says, hand curling around your wrist with extreme gentleness. "You need to eat. You need to sleep. Let me worry about everything else for once, I want to."

You still don't look at him, but you sink down an inch at a time until your cheek is on his shoulder again, like it had been in the elevator. Hesitant, you wrap your arm around his stomach.

"I'm so stupid," you say.

He wonders if that's a placeholder for what you really want to say. You think so little of yourself sometimes, but it's like you've told him before. Not everyone has the luxury of enjoying their job.

"You're amazing." Spencer feels like he's on fire everywhere that your skin touches him. Is he saying the right things? "You are. You're the only person who doesn't see that."

"The only person here, maybe."

"You should always be here, then. With me. That way I can remind you."

You sound more like yourself when you answer, though tiredness lines every word, "Thank you, Spencer. I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do."

Spencer rubs your hand until you fall asleep, and then he buys you a new toaster oven on his phone, and an industrial security lock. He doesn't know what it'll take to convince you that you deserve him, you deserve better, but he's gonna try.

He presses his cheek to your temple and focuses on the softness of your skin where it touches his.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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honeyhoshi · 9 months ago

Text

hat trick!

the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.

summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 5,616

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)

author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.

Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.

This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.

Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.

Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.

The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.

Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.

Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.

“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.

There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.

It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.

Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.

Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.

Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.

“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.

Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.

The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”

“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.

Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”

You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”

He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.

When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.

“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”

Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.

He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.

On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.

With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.

He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.

Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.

So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—

“Daddyyyyyyyy!”

Fuck there it is.

Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.

He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.

Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.

Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.

He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.

He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.

You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself.

So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.

“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.

“Huh?” comes your confused response.

“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.

You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.

But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.

You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.

“Just a little—“

He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”

“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.

“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”

“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.

He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.

Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.

You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.

But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay.

You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.

His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.

“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”

Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.

You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”

You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head.

“Words, princess. I need words.”

You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you.

Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”

He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.

Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy.

It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.

“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.

But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.

When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.

“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”

“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.

You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.

It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.

“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”

All you can do is huff. He’s right.

You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.

It’s your underwear.

“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace

“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”

He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.

“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”

After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.

You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.

“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.

The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.

You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”

You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.

“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.

Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”

And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.

You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.

Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does.

At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.

“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”

You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.

Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.

The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.

Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal.

But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.

Hat trick.

Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.

Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.

The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.

This all falls down to their captain.

Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown.

The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.

The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.

Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.

The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear.

You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.

You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.

God, you needed to suck his cock.

Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.

That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.

“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.

You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.

Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.

He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.

There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.

“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.

“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs.

He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”

Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.

He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.

You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.

“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”

The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.

You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”

Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.

He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth.

Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.

“Atta girl.”

You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.

“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?

“Mm,” is your petulant response.

“Listen to me,” he warns.

But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.

“Don’ wanna.”

From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.

“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.

“He did.”

“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”

You start to flush, “He did.”

“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”

He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

“He did,” you answer.

He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”

You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.

“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”

There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.

“Of course, daddy.”

It starts with your good intentions, really.

You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.

You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.

To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.

You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.

You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”

“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.

You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.

The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.

But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.

Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.

“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”

And he breaks at that.

He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.

The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.

He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.

Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.

He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.

But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.

“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”

You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily.

Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.

With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.

“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.

He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.

What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.

He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.

Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.

He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.

After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles.

Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!

#frizzy fiction #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #au: man of the match

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star-girl69 · 9 months ago

Note

i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔

no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)

okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE

she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU

she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself

like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you

she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol

but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!

and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP

and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”

excuse me????

“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”

“DIE”

she just laughs and takes your shoes off

she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you

clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat

“did you eat today?”

“babe you SAW me at lunch”

“just making sure….”

you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!

she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side

bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔

when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF

bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”

and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????

she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!

anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear

and an emotionally stunted caveman

she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you

idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)

so she quickly adapts to do all these little things

if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand

QUEEN of opening jars for you

if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you

also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.

like that one meme

“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”

“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”

also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup

finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER

like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head

you make it seem so effortless

she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy

so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..

also she’s constantly bragging about you

“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”

ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane

“yeah y/n is so pretty”

“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”

even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.

will she stop? no ofc not

she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words

loves kissing you all over

KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭

anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me

she’s just always touching you

hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere

hand around your waist

SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES

no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating

if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together

whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want

so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing

will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED

she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly

she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.

on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you

partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep

if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit

she’s a super light sleeper i feel like

always on the guard fr ✊

a little bit better when you’re there tho

so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep

like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?

hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop

you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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gothcsz · 1 month ago

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jealous possessive javi?

💖

tags: f!reader, smut, javi cheats on you, unprotected p in v sex (this is fiction but be safe irl), fingering, angst, jealous and possessive javi, unbeta'd, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx. ~ 5.1k w/c / gif cred

a/n: toxic!javi stans, this is for us 🙂‍↕️ kat keep your writings short challenge (FAILED) hope you like this my sweet anon 🖤

You’ve been broken up for ten weeks now. Two months and ten agonizing days. Every minute since has felt like a slow burn, as if each breath without him is a reminder of the emptiness he left behind. You thought you’d have been over him by now— Javier Peña wasn’t supposed to have this kind of hold on you, not after everything he did.

Not after you walked into his office that night, a surprise dinner in hand, only to find him fucking his secretary. The image still sears behind your eyes— the slick, desperate way they moved together while you stood frozen in the doorway, a witness to your own heartbreak.

The signs had always been there, even from the first date. The way his eyes lingered a little too long on the waitress or how he’d get that restless look in his eyes when you weren’t around. But damn, he had a way of making you feel like you were the only one.

Like every glance, every touch, was meant for you and you alone. He had a gift for making you feel special, all while hiding his cock’s insatiable appetite behind a charming smile.

Now, you feel raw, like maybe it was your fault. Maybe you weren’t enough to keep him satisfied. Maybe you didn’t do enough in bed, didn’t keep his interest, didn’t hold onto him like you should have. The betrayal made you feel small, made you question every moment, every kiss, every whispered promise. It should’ve made walking away easier, catching him like that. It should’ve been enough to erase him from your mind. But it wasn’t.

And it’s taken this long— two months and ten days— of wallowing, of replaying the betrayal, to finally push you out of your haze. Tonight, something shifts. Your friend set you up with someone from her work, and after much prodding, you said yes.

Tonight, you’ve decided to put yourself back out there. Maybe if you let someone else touch you, if you let someone else in, you’ll finally be able to push Javier out of your mind for good.

It’s been radio silence ever since. After you caught him in his office, the scene unfolded like something out of a bad movie. His face went from shock to panic in a split second, scrambling to pull up his pants, stumbling over excuses. “She meant nothing,” he stammered, running after you with that flustered, desperate look. “It was a mistake!” But you didn’t stop, didn’t even give him a second glance. You barely held back the tears as you hurled the containers of food at him, the dinner you’d lovingly prepared splattering down the hallway, leaving a messy trail as you stormed toward the stairwell. No way in hell were you waiting for the elevator. Six flights of stairs felt like nothing compared to the pit in your stomach, and the thought of giving him even one more second to sweet talk you back into his web made you sick.

You blocked him on everything the minute you got home. Packed a bag with the essentials and bolted to your cousin’s place, where you spent weeks crying yourself to sleep on her couch. Not a single call. Not a text. Not that he could, since you blocked him on every possible avenue. But even then, he didn’t try. Not a knock on the door, not a surprise visit. You realized in those sleepless nights that he’d never really bothered to get close to anyone in your life. Another red flag you had stupidly painted green, thinking he was the man of your dreams.

So when you finally pull yourself together, forcing yourself out of that dark pit of misery and agreeing to this blind date at the bar, you’re in higher spirits. You’re ready to move on— or at least try. But of course, life has a twisted sense of humor. Because the last person you expect to see sitting at the bar, laughing with another woman like nothing happened, is Javier fucking Peña.

You’d recognize that broad, infuriatingly beautiful frame anywhere. He stands out like a sore thumb, even in the dim lighting. Broad shoulders, lean muscles, and the biggest mistake of your life. The shittiest man you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. And yet, the sight of him still makes your chest tighten, reminding you just how much you let him get away with.

You almost suggest to your date that you should hit up a different bar, something far across town, anywhere but here. But no, you catch yourself. You’re done letting your ex dictate your life, done letting him take up space in your head. You’ve shed too many tears over that man, and tonight isn’t going to be another chapter in the same pathetic story.

At first, he doesn’t even notice you. Of course, his attention is fully on the woman he’s with— some gorgeous thing with legs for days and a face that belongs on a magazine cover. It stings, that familiar twinge of jealousy creeping in. You can’t help it, especially when you know he’s always going to have a pretty girl on his arm.

It’s not until your date excuses himself to use the restroom that Javier’s dark, smoldering eyes finally land on you. And what does he do when your gazes meet? He fucking smirks. That slow, deliberate smirk that used to make your knees weak. He throws in a wink for good measure, casually bringing his short glass up to his lips, taking his time with a sip as if he hasn’t just shattered your evening. His eyes linger on you, tracing every inch of your body, undressing you from across the room without so much as a word.

You shift in your seat, heart pounding in your chest as you quickly turn away, forcing your focus on some random sports game playing on the big screen nearby. But even with your eyes elsewhere, you can feel it— the weight of his stare crawling down your neck, tracing the line of your plunging neckline. Of course he’s looking. Tonight is the night you pulled out the dress— the one kept tucked away for special occasions, the revenge dress.

Every girl has one. The one that hugs in all the right places, the one you save for when you need to remind the world, and yourself, exactly what you’re made of.

And while your date had all but drooled when you stepped out in it, there’s no denying the heat in Javier’s gaze from across the bar. You don’t have to look at him to know what he’s thinking— he’s already imagining that dress crumpled on his bedroom floor.

Your date returns from the restroom, noticeably tipsier and much more handsy than when he left. His touch is bold, his fingers possessive, and you revel in it.

You lean into the attention, letting him pull you closer, putting on a little show for the audience you know is watching. Javier might think he’s the only one who knows how to have fun, but you’re going to make sure he sees just how wrong he is.

Your date’s hands wander over your body— grabbing at your ass, pulling you into him by your hips. He leans in, hot breath against your ear, whispering all the filthy things he’s planning to do to you in the back of his car.

He doesn’t even want to wait until you’re back at your place. He’s desperate, and though you hesitate for a second— things are moving a lot faster than you planned— you can feel Javier’s eyes burning into the back of your skull. His relentless glare pushes you forward, stirring something reckless inside of you.

So, you let it happen. You let this guy press his body into yours, his hands traveling, voice dripping with lust, promising you things he probably won’t even remember tomorrow. But in the heat of the moment, you don’t care. It’s not about him, really. It’s about you. About knowing that Javier’s watching every second of this, hating every second of this, and that’s enough to fuel you.

The next thing you know, you’re outside in the alley behind the bar, lips locked like horny teenagers. His mouth is on your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot that makes your knees weak, and despite yourself, you let out a soft moan.

His fingers slip beneath your panties, fumbling as they rub at your clit, off-rhythm and sloppy. But right now, that doesn’t even matter. What matters is that someone else is touching you. Someone else is making you feel something other than loneliness and anger.

Suddenly, he’s ripped off you, and the cool air rushes in where his body had been pressed against yours. Your eyes snap open, and there he is—Javier, seething with rage, his hand gripping your date by the collar. The force with which he slams him into the brick wall makes your heart lurch.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout, the shock sobering you up fast as you yank down the hem of your dress, covering yourself as best as you can. Anger surges through you, hot and wild. Your hands tremble as you take in the scene— Javier’s knuckles white against your date’s shirt, his face a mask of pure fury.

Javier’s voice is low, dangerous, a growl vibrating from his chest. “Who the fuck do you think you are, touching what’s mine?”

The laugh that bursts out of you is involuntary, bitter, filled with disbelief. His?! Your mind spins. After everything he’s done, after the way he broke you, he still has the audacity to act like you belong to him? Like you’re some possession he can claim when it suits him?

“She didn’t tell me she was seeing anyone,” your date stammers, already backing down, and you want to scream. Men used to go to war. Now, they cower when a bigger man steps in.

You feel an irrational surge of anger, not just at Javier but at this pathetic display of submission.

“Because I’m not,” you spit, stomping over to where Javier has your date pinned against the wall. You shove at Javier’s arm, trying to break his grip, but it’s like trying to move a mountain. You forgot how strong he is, how solid. His presence alone feels suffocating, like a storm rolling in and swallowing all the air around you.

Javier’s eyes flick toward you for a split second before turning back to the man trembling in his grasp. “You come near her again, and I’ll shoot your fucking knees out. You hear me? She doesn’t need a limp dick motherfucker like you putting your filthy fucking hands on her.” His words are a snarl, dripping with venom, and you can see the terror in your date’s eyes, his resolve crumbling as fast as it appeared.

It’s brief, but, you think your date might actually muster the courage to stand his ground. However, Javier’s patience snaps, and before you can react, he drives his knee into the guy’s groin with brutal precision. The man lets out a strangled whimper, doubling over in pain, and Javier finally releases him.

You gasp, hand flying to your mouth, watching in disbelief.

“Understood?” Javier’s voice cuts through the alley like a blade.

Your date nods frantically, both hands clutching his crotch as he stumbles away, all but sprinting out of the alley like a scared animal. The sound of his hurried footsteps fades, leaving you and Javier alone in the dim light.

Your fury boils over, fists clenching at your sides. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, Peña,” you snap, marching up to him and shoving at his chest with every ounce of strength you can summon. But he doesn’t budge. He stands there, unshakable, like the damn tower of arrogance he’s always been.

“Ruining my date, acting like you have some claim over me. I’m not yours anymore!”

Javier’s dark eyes are locked on you, tracing your every movement, burning a path from your heaving chest to your flushed cheeks. He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze alone sends a shiver down your spine.

It’s not just anger in those eyes. It’s something else, something that has always made your pulse quicken. The intensity of it makes your breath hitch, even though you’re trying your hardest to stay mad, to stay strong.

You push him again, but it feels like pushing against stone. “You think you can just show up, intimidate some guy, and suddenly I’m yours again? That’s not how this works you asshole.”

He says nothing, his chest rising and falling as he watches you, eyes dark and unreadable. Then he leans in, his voice low and rough. “So I’m just supposed to hang back and watch you practically fuck that guy in front of everyone?”

His words send a jolt of heat through you, the way his voice drops to that familiar, dangerous rumble that used to make your knees weak. But you force yourself to stand firm, to remind yourself that you’re mad— furious, even.

You won’t let him have this kind of power over you again. You can’t.

“Go to hell, Javier,” you snap, shoving him one last time before stepping back, your heart hammering in your chest.

But even as you say it, you feel the pull, that magnetic force that’s always existed between the two of you. And as much as you want to hate him, you can’t deny that part of you still burns for him, still aches for the way he used to make you feel.

“Chiquita,” he drawls, sending shivers down your spine. “You can’t talk to me all angry like that, looking this fucking good, and expect me not to want to push you up against that wall and fuck you like you need.”

Your jaw drops, your brain scrambling for a response, but nothing comes out. His words hit you like a slap, bold and filthy, and despite yourself, heat shoots straight to your cunt. You curse under your breath, hating how your body betrays you.

“Y-You—” you stammer, but you can’t even string a sentence together. And that’s all it takes for him to smirk, that infuriating, knowing smirk that tells you he still has that effect on you.

“You’ve got that girl in there,” you snap, voice trembling even as you try to hold your ground. “Your secretary, and probably half the goddamn city, waiting to spread their legs for you. Not me. Not anymore.”

But even as you say it, your voice falters. The truth you’re trying to convince yourself of feels thin, weak in the face of his presence. He takes a step closer, and instinctively, you take a step back.

“Still hung up on that?” He shakes his head, almost amused. “C’mon, baby, I told you. She was a mistake. She came onto me.”

Another step forward. Another step back.

You can’t believe he’s really doing this— feeding you the same tired excuses. But then again, you can. This is exactly what men like Javier Peña do.

They lie, they cheat, and they make you feel like you’re the one being unreasonable.

“Bullshit someone else, Peña,” your voice shakes again, betraying you. “I’m done with you.”

But he keeps advancing, every step pushing you back until your spine hits the cold, rough brick of the alley wall. You curse under your breath, ready to slip past him, to get out of here before he does something you can’t walk away from. But he moves faster, caging you in with his hands planted on either side of your head.

“I’m not bullshitting,” he murmurs as he leans in close. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek, and despite every ounce of willpower, your body reacts.

His dark brown eyes burn into you, their intensity pulling you under. “She meant nothing. Pussy wasn’t even half as good as yours. Couldn’t even compare.” His nose brushes the side of your face, and you know he’s inhaling the scent of your perfume— the one he always loved.

“Javier…” you try to protest, but your resolve crumbles with each passing second. His hand finds your waist, slowly trailing up the length of your body, fingertips grazing your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. Your breath hitches, and you hate yourself for it.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers, his voice softer now. His palm comes up to cup your breast, kneading it gently, and your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the familiar touch that your body still craves, even if your mind is screaming at you to stop.

“You’re a liar,” you breathe, barely managing to get the words out as his fingers tease your hardened nipple through the fabric of your dress.

Before you can react, his other hand moves with lightning speed, wrapping firmly around your throat. He squeezes just enough to tilt your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. The heat in his eyes is undeniable.

“Don’t say that,” he growls. His grip tightens just slightly, enough to make your pulse quicken under his palm. “Do you know how much it fucking hurt to see another man touching you the way I did? Huh?” He leans in, his lips hovering near your ear as his breath tickles your skin. “You can be so inconsiderate sometimes, cariño.”

Your heart races in your chest, caught between anger and arousal. You should push him away, should scream at him, but the way he’s looking at you— like you’re the only thing that matters in the world— makes it impossible to move.

You open your mouth to speak, but his grip around your throat tightens just enough to rob you of breath, silencing whatever retort you had.

“Letting him put his hands on you like that…” he scoffs, his dark eyes scanning your face as if daring you to deny it. “Touching up on my pretty pussy like he had the fucking right. Like he could handle what’s mine. Even if you had fucked him, we both know he wouldn’t have left you all sore and throbbing the way I do. Wouldn’t have made you wet enough to take his small cock. You’d have to fake it. And for what? To try and make me jealous?”

His words are cutting, sinful, and despite your anger, you feel the way your arousal smears against the fabric of your underwear.

The twisted satisfaction in his voice, the way his grip tightens then loosens just enough for you to breathe— he knows exactly how to break you down, how to remind you that no one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“It seems like it worked,” you manage to gasp out, your voice a rasp as you gulp in air. “You came out here all pissed at the thought that someone else could make me feel better than you ever did.”

That’s what does it. His control snaps.

In an instant, his lips crash against yours in a bruising kiss. It’s rough, possessive, and desperate. His tongue invades your mouth, demanding and unapologetic, as if he’s punishing you for even thinking someone else could replace him.

His hand, the one that had been so firmly on your throat, moves to grope your breast, squeezing you roughly. You moan against his mouth, your body reacting on instinct, traitorous in its desire for him.

“Esos ruidos tan bonitos. Solo para mí.” He murmurs when he pulls back just enough to speak, a string of spit still connecting your mouths. His voice is low, vibrating with dark satisfaction. “Si alguien está mintiendo aquí, eres tú, chiquita.”

His words swirl in your head as you gasp for breath, but before you can form a coherent thought, his hand is already sliding down your body. His fingers trail down your waist, lingering at the hem of your dress before slipping underneath. You let out a sharp gasp, biting down on your lip as his fingers find your soaked panties.

It all happens so fast after that. The hunger between you ignites like a flame catching gasoline. The intensity of the kiss deepens, all teeth and tongues. His possessive touch makes you writhe beneath him, your body yielding even as your mind fights to hold on to some shred of dignity.

“Look at you,” he breathes against your lips, his voice dripping with desire. “Moaning for me. You always do, don’t you?”

“Javier…” You try to protest, but your words are swallowed by another moan as his fingers slip inside your panties, brushing against your throbbing clit.

“Shh, baby. Let me remind you what you’ve been missing,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers begin to stroke you. His movements are deliberate, knowing exactly how to play your body, how to coax those helpless little noises from your throat. “God, you’re so fucking wet. All for me. Always for me.”

You gasp his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as his fingers slide inside you, curling just right. The tension in your body melts, replaced with a rush of heat that pools between your thighs. Your mind blanks, lost in the feel of him— his hand working you over, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck.

“You mean everything to me,” he whispers into your ear, his voice ragged as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the slick sound filling the alley. “This tight little pussy? She was made for me. Feels like heaven around my fingers. Imagine how good she’ll feel wrapped around my cock, huh?”

Your body trembles, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the pressure inside you builds with each thrust of his fingers. You know you shouldn’t be here, pinned against a wall, letting this man who shattered your heart pull you apart like this.

But God, his touch is addictive. His possessive words ignite every part of you.

“Say it,” he growls, his fingers curling deeper, hitting that perfect spot that makes you see stars. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Javier…” Your voice is barely a whisper, your resolve crumbling with each passing second as he drags you closer and closer to the edge.

“Say it baby,” he demands, his breath hot against your skin as his thumb presses against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. “Tell me I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.”

“No,” you gasp, using every ounce of willpower to bring your hand down, gripping his wrist, halting the delicious rhythm of his fingers inside you.

His fingers still, his breath heavy against your skin as you lock eyes with him, summoning every shred of confidence through the haze of lust clouding your mind. “You tell me that. Tell me I’m the only one who drives you this crazy.”

The tension crackles between you, thick and electric. Your chest heaves, heart racing as his dark eyes search yours.

He groans, leaning in, his lips brushing yours with a desperate hunger. “You are,” he breathes, but it’s not enough.

You can’t help but smirk, your pussy clenching around his fingers just to tease him, making him hiss through clenched teeth. “Say it like you mean it, Javier,” you demand, fueled by the fire burning between your thighs. “You broke my fucking heart, and if you think you’re going to fuck me tonight, you’re going to admit it. Tell me I did everything right. That you are the one who’s hurting. Tell me how much you miss this pussy. How you crave her on your tongue, how you miss fucking her in your bed.”

His eyes drown in lust at your command. His fingers twitch inside you, but he doesn’t move yet. Instead, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze head-on, staring straight into your soul, his breath ragged and uneven.

It’s a battle of wills, and for a second, you think you’ve won.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he purrs, and finally, his fingers begin to move again, slow and deliberate, a tantalizing rhythm that sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. “Sorry for hurting you so bad you felt the need to find another dick to hop on.” His thumb presses against your clit, making your hips buck involuntarily as you gasp at the sensation. “I fucked up. You deserve better.”

His words are laced with apology, but his actions? Pure, selfish desire. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your toes curl. Your head falls back against the brick wall, eyes fluttering closed as a ragged moan escapes your lips.

“But I’m too selfish to let you go,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and husky. “I need you, baby. Miss how sweet you taste, how tight you feel.”

Javier’s mouth is on your neck then, his tongue darting out to lick at the damp skin, tasting the salt of your sweat as his fingers continue their relentless assault. Each stroke brings you closer to the edge, and it’s intoxicating— how easily he can unravel you, how effortlessly he pulls you apart.

Your body feels weightless, high on him, and with each praise, each filthy promise that falls from his lips, you’re hurtling toward your release. His thumb circles your clit faster now, his fingers curling deeper, and you can’t hold it back any longer.

“Javier!” you cry out, your walls clenching around his fingers as the orgasm crashes through you, making your body tremble. Your moans fill the alleyway, breathless and raw, and as you come undone, his mouth crashes into yours in a sloppy, desperate kiss.

He swallows your moans as he undoes his belt with one hand, his fingers never leaving you until the last possible second. Before you even have time to catch your breath, he’s lifting you off the ground, and instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist.

You barely have time to gasp before he’s thrusting inside you, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, brutal motion.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaim, your arms flying around his neck as he starts to pound into you, his thrusts deep and punishing. The sound of your bodies colliding, skin slapping against skin, echoes in the narrow alley. Every thrust pushes you further up the wall, and you clutch onto him for dear life as he fucks you hard, like a man possessed.

“Feels so good, baby,” he growls into your ear, his hands gripping your hips as he drives into you relentlessly. “Only I can fuck you like this. Only I can make you scream.”

And you do scream, pleasure and frustration mixing together as you meet his punishing thrusts, your body moving on instinct, chasing the high that only Javier can give you.

“You feel that, pretty girl?” His voice is a low rasp in your ear, thick with need, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your core. “This—this is how I fuck what’s mine. No one else can make you feel like this. Admit it.”

His grip tightens on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he drives into you, deeper, rougher. It’s brutal how good he feels, how perfectly his cock stretches and fills you, like your body was made for him.

You hate him, hate that he can still make you feel this fucking good, but your body betrays you, responding to his every touch, clenching around him as if to hold him there forever.

“I—” you stutter, breathless, eyes crossing as the sensations drown out your thoughts. His cock is relentless, pushing you toward the edge again, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips. “I—God, I hate you…”

But it sounds hollow, even to your own ears. The truth is you can’t resist him, never could. He knows exactly how to break you apart, and you despise how much you crave him, how much you need this despite the pain he’s brought you.

Javier chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your neck. “No, you don’t. You love this. You love the way I make you feel.” His lips brush the shell of your ear, biting down on your lobe. “And I love the way you fall apart for me. Just me.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans that threaten to spill out as he thrusts harder, faster. You can feel the pressure building inside you again, tightening with every stroke, every whispered promise of what he’ll do to you.

It’s almost too much, the way he claims you, body and soul. And the worst part? You’re letting him. You want him to.

“Say it,” he demands, his pace quickening, hips slamming into you so hard you’re sure you’ll feel it for days. His lips find yours again, his kiss angry and claiming. “Say you’re mine.”

You shake your head, gasping, fighting against the overwhelming pleasure threatening to consume you. “Javier—”

“Say it,” he growls, his voice rough and insistent as he reaches between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. He circles it with precision, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body, pushing you closer to the brink.

“Fuck!” You cry out, the intensity of his touch stealing the breath from your lungs. Your body is on fire, trembling, and you know you’re about to shatter beneath him. “I—I’m yours…”

The words tumble from your lips in a desperate whisper, and the moment they do, it’s like something snaps inside him. His thrusts become brutal, animalistic, and your world narrows down to the feel of him— his cock, his hands, his lips, all of it overwhelming you, driving you toward that final, devastating release.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now come for me.”

And with that, you do. The orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, crashing through your body with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clench tight around him, your moans loud and unrestrained as you come undone in his arms, shaking and trembling.

Javier groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he follows you over the edge, spilling himself inside you with a low, primal grunt. His body shudders against yours, his grip on you tightening as he rides out his release.

The world is still. All you can hear is the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart as you both come down from the high. You’re pressed against him, his forehead resting against yours, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air between you.

But as the haze of pleasure fades, reality starts creeping back in.

You push him away, your palms flat against his chest, but he doesn’t move, if anything, he tightens his hold on you.

His brown eyes still linger on yours, filled with the same possessiveness that’s always been there.

“I told you,” he murmurs, voice low, as if this moment has proven everything he wanted to. “You’re mine.”

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @bitchesuntitled . @angiewatson .

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

#💌 you’ve got mail!#kat's writing.#javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader

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imthesilentwriter · 1 month ago

Text

The Sleepovers

Harry Potter x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

Summary: You have sleepovers with Harry; however, you start to suspect something is up when you notice things either before, during, or after your sleepovers. That is, until you figure it out why you have them.

Warnings: mentions of blood and bruises (let me know if there is any more I need to add)

Authors Note: This is the longest oneshot I've written so far - it's also the first one in the "Pre-Hogwarts" section (how exciting). I would like to thank everyone for their support on my previous posts, it makes a world a difference to someone like me, who just loves to write. So, without further a due, enjoy this fic... excuse the 8 thousand words word count :)

Word Count: 8334

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You notice something is different when Lily comes to pick you up from your home, instead of your dads dropping you off at Harry’s. Maybe you’ve always noticed something, or maybe you’re just starting to pick up on it now.

Here you are, standing in front of your dad, Remus, who is lying on the couch, his arm draped over his eyes. You’ve seen him like this before, the way his body seems heavy, and his face is scrunched up with lines that make him look tired, but there’s something more today. A pain etched deep into his skin that makes your chest feel tight.

He huffs out a breath, a sound you recognize, one that only escapes him when he’s frustrated. It’s a sound you’ve heard more often when your sleepovers are planned. Your little four-year-old brain can’t quite wrap around why, but you know something is bothering him, something that always happens when you’re getting ready to stay over at Harry’s.

You keep standing there, watching him, as he stays curled on the couch. His breaths are heavy, and a small part of you, deep inside, screams at you to make it stop. You want to help him, to take away whatever is hurting him. But you can’t, and you know that. You’re not sure why, but you just know.

With soft footsteps, you step closer, standing near his head. You reach out a small hand and place it gently on his forearm, your fingers barely brushing his skin. “Dad?” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it cuts through the quiet.

Remus hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t move, so you pat his arm gently, trying again. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, he pulls his arm away from his eyes, revealing the soft, kind hazel eyes you know so well. But today, they’re different. He looks at you with love, but the pain is still there, sitting behind his gaze like something heavy he can’t put down.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m fine,” he says, his voice quiet and tender, but you see it – how the corners of his mouth don’t lift like they usually do, how his shoulders stay tense, even when he tries to smile.

You tilt your head, thinking carefully before speaking again. “You don’t look okay,” you say simply, and for a moment, his shoulders stiffen, like he’s been caught.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock at the front door. The sound pulls both of you out of the moment, and Remus glances toward the door. “Lily must be here,” he says, swinging his legs off the couch and sitting up.

But when he stands, a groan escapes him – low and quiet, but enough to make your heart hurt. He’s moving slowly, like each step takes more effort than usual.

He looks down at you as he struggles to straighten up. “You’ve got everything?” he asks, trying to sound casual as he walks to the door.

You nod, holding your little bag close to you. “Yes,” you say, “Daddy made sure everything was in my bag.”

Remus gives you a small, tired smile and opens the door. Lily stands there, smiling softly at both of you. “Hi, sweetheart,” she says, waving at you with her gentle, familiar warmth. Her eyes flicker to your father briefly, and you notice the way her smile falters, just for a second.

“Ready for another fun night with Harry?” Lily asks, kneeling down to meet your eyes, but there’s something in her voice, something you can’t quite place. It’s the same way she always talks to you, but today, it feels different. It feels like she’s trying to hide something.

“Yeah,” you say, though your mind is still on your dad. You glance back at him, watching as he leans against the doorframe, looking so tired, so worn.

Lily stands up and gives him a look, one that you don’t understand, but you know it’s important. “Take care of yourself, Remus,” she says quietly, and your dad just nods, his hand gripping the door a little tighter.

“Have a good time, sweetie,” he says to you, his voice softer now, like he’s trying to put everything into those few words.

You feel a lump in your throat as you give him a small wave. “Bye, Dad.”

Lily takes your hand as you walk away, but as you look back one last time, you see him standing there, still leaning against the door. And in that moment, your little heart knows something.

You might not understand it yet, but you know there’s something more. Something your dad is going through, something that makes him hurt, and somehow, you just wish you could fix it.

The second thing you notice, that makes you believe something is up, is when James, Harry’s dad, leaves for the night without taking any of his belongings.

You’re sitting on the living room carpet with Harry, carefully stacking brightly coloured wooden blocks into a tall tower. You hear the sound of pots clanging from the kitchen where Lily is cooking dinner, her humming mixing with the sizzling sounds of food.

The room feels warm and cozy, but something in your chest still feels off. You’ve been thinking about your dads all day, wondering why you’re still here instead of back home with them.

That’s when you hear footsteps coming down the hall. You look up just in time to see James entering the living room, fully dressed to go out. His coat is on, and his shoes are laced up tight, but there’s something odd about him – he’s not carrying his usual things. No bag, no wand holster, nothing.

“Hey, kiddos,” James says, his voice a little lighter than usual as he kneels beside you and Harry. He ruffles Harry’s messy hair, earning a giggle, and then glances at you with a quick smile. “What are you two up to?”

Harry points to the tower, his green eyes wide with excitement. “We’re building a super tall tower, Dad! Look, it’s taller than me now!”

James chuckles, reaching out to steady the wobbling blocks. “Impressive, mate. Just don’t knock it over too soon, yeah?”

But you’re not paying much attention to the blocks anymore. You’re watching James, your eyes narrowing as you notice the way he glances toward the door, like he’s in a hurry to leave. Something about it feels… wrong.

“Where are you going?” you ask suddenly, looking up at him with curiosity.

James straightens up, looking a little surprised by your question. “Just out for a bit. Got some things to help your dads with.”

Harry tilts his head, his playful smile fading. “Are you going to work?” he asks, his voice small.

James shakes his head quickly. “Not tonight, buddy. Just helping them out.”

You frown, your chest tightening with confusion. “But… why didn’t you bring your things? You always take your bag when you leave.”

James gives you a soft smile, though there’s something behind it you can’t quite place –something that makes your stomach twist. “This time’s different,” he says, brushing a hand through his hair. “I won’t need them where I’m going.”

You don’t like that answer. It doesn’t make sense. “But… when are you coming back?”

James kneels down again, this time looking you directly in the eyes. His expression is softer now, but there’s something serious underneath. “Not for a little while,” he says quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Lily’s got everything under control, and we’ll see each other soon.”

You nod slowly, but the worry in your chest doesn’t go away. If everything is fine, why does it feel like James is leaving in a hurry? And why didn’t your dads come to get you?

Lily appears in the doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she says with a smile, though her eyes flicker briefly between you and James. “You heading out now?”

James stands, giving her a quick nod. “Yeah, should be back by morning.”

He ruffles Harry’s hair one last time and gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You two behave for Lily, okay? And don’t stay up too late.”

Harry grins up at him. “We won’t, Dad!”

But you stay quiet, still watching him carefully. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he glances at Lily, that makes you think they’re not telling you everything.

As James heads toward the door, you call out again, your voice small. “Are my dad’s, okay?”

James pauses at the door, his hand on the knob. For a second, you catch a look on his face – something like worry, but he quickly covers it with another smile. “They’re fine, kiddo. Just busy, like I said. Don’t worry, everything’s alright.”

And with that, he’s gone. The door clicks shut, leaving you sitting there with an uneasy feeling you can’t shake. Harry is already back to stacking blocks, his giggles filling the room, but you can’t stop thinking about James’s hurried exit – and why he didn’t take anything with him.

The third thing that makes you believe something is up when you’re told you’re staying an extra night. This isn’t normal. Sleepovers are supposed to be one night, and you’re confused. And, frankly, a little upset. You want to go home. You miss your dads, and you don’t understand why you can’t.

“No!” you shout, crossing your arms over your chest as Lily tries to guide you upstairs to get ready for bed. “I don’t want to! I want to go home!”

Lily kneels down in front of you, her eyes soft but tired. “Sweetheart, I know you’re upset, but you’re going to stay with us just one more night. You and Harry can have lots of fun tomorrow, okay?”

But you don’t feel like having fun. You feel angry, and a little scared, even though you don’t know why. You shake your head hard, your pigtails bouncing. “I don’t want to stay! I want Dad and Daddy!”

Behind you, James is struggling to get Harry into his pyjamas, Harry giggling and wiggling away like it’s a game. But you’re not laughing. Your eyes are stinging, and your throat feels tight.

Lily sighs and gently touches your shoulder. “It’s alright, love. Your dads will come pick you up tomorrow. They’re just busy tonight.”

Busy doing what? Busy without you? That makes you feel worse.

“No!” you shout again, your bottom lip trembling. “I don’t want to stay!”

You stomp your foot, the sound echoing through the hallway. James glances over, eyebrows raised. “Hey, it’s okay, kiddo,” he says, standing up after finally wrangling Harry into his pyjamas. “We’re going to have a cozy night, and then your dads will be here before you know it.”

But you don’t want a cozy night. You want your dads, and no matter what James or Lily say, it doesn’t make sense why you can’t just go home now. You can feel your chest tightening, the tears threatening to spill.

Lily looks at James, and for a moment, you catch the look they share, something silent and serious. It makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t explain. It feels like they’re hiding something.

“I don’t want to stay,” you mumble again, your voice small now as the tears spill over.

James walks over to you, kneeling down until he’s eye level. His hands gently rest on your arms. “I know, kiddo. I know you miss your dads. But they’re gonna be here tomorrow. You’re safe with us, alright?”

You shake your head, a few sobs breaking free as you bury your face in your hands. “I want them now,” you cry, your small body trembling with the force of your tears.

James pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back soothingly. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re gonna see them soon. I promise.”

But it’s not enough. You cling to him, your tears wetting his shirt as you cry, still wanting your dads. You don’t understand why you can’t go home, why this sleepover isn’t like the others.

Lily watches for a moment, her face full of concern, before gently taking Harry’s hand. “Come on, Harry, let’s go brush your teeth, alright?” she says softly, guiding him toward the bathroom. Harry looks back at you, wide-eyed, as he lets Lily lead him away, but you’re too upset to notice.

James holds you a little longer, whispering gentle reassurances into your hair. “It’s okay to be upset,” he says softly. “But you’re gonna be alright. We’ll do something fun tomorrow, okay?”

You sniffle, wiping your face with your sleeve, but don’t answer. James pulls back slightly, looking at you with those kind, patient eyes. “How about we read a story before bed? That might help.”

You don’t answer right away, but after a moment, you nod, still feeling the ache of missing your dads but too tired to fight anymore.

Once you’re in Harry’s room, you sit on the bed, still sniffling and sulking while James helps you into your pyjamas. Harry comes bouncing back from the bathroom with Lily, looking much happier than you feel. Lily sits beside you, tucking you both in.

“Harry picked out a story for tonight,” Lily says, holding up a book with a picture of a forest on the cover.

You glance at the book but don’t say anything. Harry wiggles excitedly under the blankets. “It’s about a werewolf!” he announces, like it’s the most exciting thing ever.

Your eyes narrow, and you frown. “I don’t like werewolves,” you mutter, turning away, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

Lily pauses for a second, glancing at you before opening the book. “Well, let’s give it a try. Maybe this one’s different,” she says gently.

She begins reading, her voice soft and soothing as she tells the story of a little boy who gets lost in the woods and meets a werewolf. But the werewolf isn’t scary – he’s sad, because he’s all alone, hiding from everyone because they think he’s a monster.

You shift a little, your frown deepening as you listen. Harry is listening intently, his big green eyes wide with curiosity.

“And then,” Lily continues, “the little boy realizes that the werewolf isn’t dangerous at all. He’s just a person, like everyone else. He just needs someone to understand him.”

You peek out from under the blanket, your brows furrowed. Something about the story makes you feel strange inside, like you’ve heard something like this before, but you don’t know where.

By the time Lily finishes the story, you’re quiet, staring down at the blanket in your lap. You don’t feel so angry anymore, but now there’s something else – something tugging at your chest, something you don’t quite understand.

“See?” Lily says softly, closing the book. “Not all werewolves are bad.”

Harry grins up at her, his thumb already in his mouth as he snuggles into the pillow. You, however, don’t smile. Instead, you look at Lily with a small, hesitant frown.

“Are… are there real werewolves?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lily hesitates, her hand still on the book, before nodding slowly. “Yes, there are. But just like in the story, not all of them are bad.”

You think about this as Lily kisses both of your foreheads and turns off the light. You’re not as upset now, but you’re not sure why. You feel like there’s something more you’re not being told.

The fourth thing that makes you suspicious is when, during one of your sleepovers at the Potters’, you can’t sleep. So, you sit on the couch, your small legs tucked underneath you as you stare out the window.

The house is quiet, everyone else already asleep, but the full moon is hanging heavy in the sky, casting a pale glow over the yard. It feels bigger tonight – brighter too – and you can’t take your eyes off it.

Your bunny is clutched tightly in your arms, and though you know you should be sleeping, you just…can’t.

The soft creak of footsteps pulls your attention away from the moon, and you glance toward the kitchen just as James walks in. He’s rubbing his eyes, his hair even messier than usual, and you can tell he’s still half-asleep. He fills up a glass of water, and as he turns, he notices you sitting there, wide awake.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says quietly, walking over to the couch. “What’re you doing up?”

You shrug, hugging your bunny closer, your eyes flicking back to the window. “I couldn’t sleep.”

James raises his eyebrows, glancing out the window as if to see what has you so distracted. He sits down next to you on the couch, his presence warm and comforting, and takes a sip of his water. “Staring at the moon, huh?”

You nod, your eyes fixed on the glowing orb outside. It’s strange how something so far away can feel so…close.

James watches you for a moment before asking, “Wanna talk about it?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. There’s been something on your mind for a while now, something that doesn’t make sense, but you don’t know how to say it without sounding…weird.

“Why do I have sleepovers with Harry once a month?” you ask suddenly, your voice small.

James blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice carefully neutral.

“Every month,” you say softly, finally looking up at him. “Why do I always stay here once a month?”

James pauses, glancing at the moon again before turning his gaze back to you. “Oh, well, you know… It’s just something we started doing, right? You and Harry are best friends, and your dads sometimes need a break, so we figured why not make it a tradition?” He smiles, but there’s something in his eyes, something that feels like a lie.

You just nod, accepting his answer, but deep down, it doesn’t feel right. It’s not the truth, but you’re too tired to push any further. Instead, you hug your bunny a little tighter, staring back at the moon as it seems to glow even brighter.

James clears his throat, gently ruffling your hair. “How about we head back to bed, huh?”

“I’m not tired,” you mumble, shaking your head. Your eyes are heavy, but your mind is still wide awake, thoughts swirling too fast to let you rest.

James just nods, not pushing you. “That’s okay,” he says softly. “We can sit here a bit longer if you want.”

You don’t say anything, but the quiet is nice. The two of you sit there together, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock and the faint rustling of the leaves outside.

After a while, James speaks again, his voice gentle. “How about you come sleep with Lily and me tonight? You’ll get some rest with us, I’m sure.”

You hesitate, glancing up at him. “I don’t know…”

“Just for tonight,” he adds, his smile reassuring. “I think it might help.”

Reluctantly, you nod, and James sets his glass down, standing up and holding out a hand to you. You take it, letting him guide you toward the bedroom. As you follow him down the hall, you can’t help but glance back at the window, the full moon still hanging there, watching you.

You don’t understand everything yet, but one day you will. For now, though, you climb into bed between James and Lily, her arms wrapping around you as she murmurs something soft and soothing. And slowly, despite everything, you start to drift off, the warmth of their presence easing you into sleep.

The fifth thing you notice – that makes you generally terrified – are the fresh cuts and bruises on your dad’s back.

You didn’t mean to snoop, not at first. You were just wandering down the hall, minding your own business, when you heard quiet voices coming from your parents' room. The door was slightly ajar, just enough for you to hear bits of the conversation.

Normally, you’d keep walking – you know you’re not supposed to eavesdrop – but something about the low, serious tone of your dads’ voices makes you pause. It’s like they’re trying to keep their words quiet, like they don’t want you to hear.

And that’s exactly why you stop, holding your breath and creeping closer to the door.

From where you’re standing, you can just make out the edge of the room, your dad Remus sitting on the bed, his back turned toward the door. You’re about to step away when something catches your eye – something that freezes you in place.

His back… it’s covered in bleeding cuts and dark bruises. Some of the cuts are still fresh, red and angry, the blood just barely dried. The bruises are large and deep, spreading across his skin in painful purples and blues. You feel your stomach twist with fear and confusion. Why is your dad hurt? Where did he get those injuries?

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart pounds in your chest. You want to ask. You want to burst in and demand to know what happened, why your dad looks like this, but you don’t. You can’t. Something in the air feels fragile, like if you interrupt, the whole world will shatter.

So instead, you just watch.

“Hold still, Moony,” Sirius murmurs, his voice gentle but firm. He’s kneeling in front of Remus, carefully tending to the worst of the cuts. You can see the worry etched into his face, the way his hands shake just a little as he presses a cloth to the bleeding wounds. “This one’s deeper than last time…”

Last time?

Your eyes widen as you piece together what you’ve heard. This has happened before? But how? Why?

Remus winces as Sirius presses harder, and you see him close his eyes for a moment, jaw clenched in pain. “It’s fine, Pads,” he says softly, though his voice is strained. “Just… finish up. We don’t have much time before she gets back.”

Before you get back. They don’t know you’re already here.

You feel frozen in place, torn between rushing in to help and staying hidden. Questions race through your mind – how long has this been going on? Why didn’t you know? Why didn’t they tell you?

James said he was helping your dads. He said everything was fine, but how could it be fine if Remus looks like this?

You swallow hard, your throat tight with fear. Your mind can’t make sense of it. What could possibly hurt your dad this badly? You’re scared to know the answer, but you’re also scared of not knowing. The room feels too quiet, too heavy with secrets, and you feel like an intruder in your own house.

As you stand there, the fear mixes with guilt. You shouldn’t be watching this. You shouldn’t be here. But you can’t tear yourself away, no matter how badly you want to.

Sirius finishes bandaging Remus’s wounds, his face tight with frustration. “You can’t keep doing this, Remus,” he says, his voice quieter now, but sharp. “She’s going to notice. You know how observant she is.”

Remus sighs, his head hanging low. “I know. But what choice do I have?”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning you don’t understand. Sirius stands, his hands on his hips, shaking his head like he wants to say more but doesn’t know how.

You step back, heart racing, feeling like you’ve just witnessed something you were never meant to see. Tears begin to prick at your eyes as you back away from the door, heart pounding.

You didn’t understand what was happening, but it was enough to make your chest ache, and your throat tighten with fear and confusion. You shouldn’t have been listening. You shouldn’t have seen the cuts, the bruises.

You turn and walk quickly down the hall, your small feet padding softly against the wooden floor as you make your way to your bedroom. Tears are already spilling down your cheeks by the time you reach your bed, and you throw yourself onto the mattress, curling up into a ball as silent sobs shake your body.

You don’t want to cry. You don’t want to feel scared. But you do. And the tears keep coming, even though you press your face into the pillow, hoping to muffle the sounds. Why is Dad hurt? Why didn’t anyone tell you?

The questions keep swirling around in your head, but they have no answers. You’re left feeling lost, scared, and alone.

After a while, you hear a soft knock on your door, but you don’t move. You keep your face buried in the pillow, your body trembling with quiet sobs. The door creaks open, and you hear the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Princess? I’ve been looking for you,” comes Sirius’s gentle voice, soft but tinged with concern. You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is cry.

His footsteps stop near the bed, and you can feel him hesitating. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says, his voice closer now. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffle, trying to stop the tears, but it’s no use. You don’t want him to see you like this, but you can’t hold it in any longer. You feel the mattress shift as he sits beside you, and his hand gently touches your back. “Hey, hey… it’s okay,” he murmurs, sounding worried now. “What’s going on?”

You don’t respond, just cry harder, your body shaking as you curl up tighter. Sirius’s heart seems to skip a beat, and he quickly scoops you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he stands. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he whispers, swaying gently as he holds you, his voice soft and soothing. “It’s alright, princess. You’re safe.”

You cling to him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you bury your face against him. His arms are warm and strong, and he holds you like you’re the most important thing in the world, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as he sways.

“Daddy…” you finally manage to whisper through your sobs, your voice small and broken.

“What, princess?” he asks gently, his chin resting on top of your head as he continues to rock you.

“I want Dada…” you sniffle, your tears still falling as you cling to him.

Sirius’s heart aches at the sound of your broken voice. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and murmurs, “Okay, love. Let’s go see him.”

He carries you out of your room and down the hall, your little arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you continue to cry softly into his shoulder. He pushes open the door to the bedroom, where Remus is lying in bed, his face pale and tired, though he sits up a little when he sees you.

“She’s upset,” Sirius says quietly, looking over at Remus with worry in his eyes. “She wants you.”

Remus’s face softens, and he opens his arms as Sirius gently sets you down on the bed beside him. You crawl over to him without a word, wrapping yourself around his arm as if holding on to him will make the fear go away. His skin is warm and familiar, and despite the cuts and bruises you saw, he still feels like your dad.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Remus whispers, his voice gentle as he strokes your hair. “I’m here.”

You don’t say anything, but your sobs quiet as you nestle closer, your small body trembling less with each passing moment. You can feel Remus’s steady heartbeat under your cheek, the familiar rhythm calming you even though the fear still lingers.

Sirius sits on the edge of the bed, watching with concern, but you barely notice. All you want is to be close to your dad, to make sure he’s still here, still okay.

Eventually, your eyes grow heavy with exhaustion. The weight of everything – the fear, the confusion, the tears – finally pulls you into sleep. Your small fingers are still wrapped tightly around Remus’s arm as your breathing evens out, soft and steady.

Remus exchanges a quiet look with Sirius, his tired eyes full of gratitude and sorrow as he watches you sleep. He holds you a little closer, his hand resting protectively over yours.

“Sleep well, my love,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. And for now, with both your dads by your side, you do.

You’ve been acting strange. Everyone can see it, even if they don’t understand why.

It started off small – little changes that only your dads seemed to notice at first. You wanted to help Dad, Remus, with everything. Holding his hand when he walked, carrying things for him even though they were too heavy for your little arms. You were always there, hovering near him like you were scared he’d disappear if you didn’t keep him close.

But then, it got more intense.

You didn’t want to be held by Sirius anymore. Whenever he’d try to scoop you up, you’d shake your head and squirm away, making a beeline for Remus. Always Remus. You’d cling to his legs or lift your arms up toward him, begging to be carried. Even when Sirius tried to join in the bedtime routine, you’d edge away, making sure you were tucked into Remus’s side instead.

At night, you refused to sleep in your own bed. You’d crawl into your dads’ bed, nestling between them. But you always pressed yourself as close to Remus as possible, your tiny body clinging to him like a lifeline. No matter how much Sirius coaxed or joked, you wouldn’t budge.

It was confusing. They didn’t know what was going on – why you were suddenly so attached, so desperate to be near Remus all the time. They tried to ask, but you couldn’t find the words to explain. You couldn’t tell them about what you saw, the cuts and bruises on Remus, the ones he tried to hide but you had noticed.

Now, it’s another night, and you’re at the Potters’ house for your monthly sleepover with Harry. But things aren’t the same.

You’re in Remus’s arms when they arrive at the Potters’. You haven’t let go of him all evening, your small arms gripping his neck tightly, your face buried in his chest. Sirius stands nearby, looking concerned but trying to keep things light. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he says gently, stepping closer, “time to go with Lily.”

But the moment Remus moves to set you down, something inside you snaps. You cling tighter, shaking your head fiercely. “No! No, I don’t want to! Dada, please!”

Your voice comes out high-pitched and frantic, tears already filling your eyes. Remus freezes, exchanging a startled look with Sirius. You’ve never reacted like this before. “What’s wrong, baby?” Remus asks softly, pulling you back against his chest. His voice is gentle, but you can hear the worry in it.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you sob, shaking in his arms. “Please don’t go, Dada, please!”

Remus tries to soothe you, rubbing your back and murmuring soft reassurances, but you’re beyond comforting now. Sirius steps forward again, trying to coax you gently. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re safe here with Lily and Harry. We’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

But when Sirius reaches out to take you from Remus, you kick out, struggling against him with more strength than anyone expected. “No! No!” you scream, your tiny fists gripping Remus’s shirt, your cries turning into a desperate wail.

It takes both Sirius and James to gently pry you from Remus’s arms. You’re thrashing, kicking, your little face red with tears and frustration. “Dada, please!” you keep crying, over and over, like it’s the only thing you know how to say.

Remus’s heart shatters with every sob. He kneels in front of you, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch your face, but he knows there’s nothing more he can do. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers to you, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

But you don’t want promises. You want him. You continue to cry, your arms reaching out for him even as Lily finally steps in, wrapping you in a soothing embrace. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she whispers softly. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be alright.”

Remus looks like he’s about to say something – maybe that he should stay behind – but Sirius shakes his head, his face filled with pain. “We don’t know what’s gotten into her,” he says apologetically to Lily. “This... this isn’t normal. We’re so sorry.”

Lily shakes her head, her tone calm and firm. “It’s alright, really. She’ll be okay. I’ve got this.”

Reluctantly, Remus lets Sirius and James pull him away, but he keeps looking back, his face pale, his eyes filled with sadness. You keep screaming, reaching for him as they finally leave, their figures disappearing into the night.

Once they’re gone, you collapse against Lily, sobbing into her shoulder. She holds you tightly, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, whispering soft words until your cries slowly start to quiet.

Even after you’ve calmed down, you refuse to leave her arms. Throughout the night, you cling to her like you did with Remus, not wanting to be put down, not even when it’s time to eat or play with Harry. Lily doesn’t force you. She keeps you close, holding you until you finally start to grow heavy in her arms, exhaustion from your earlier meltdown catching up with you.

Bedtime comes and goes. Thankfully, Lily managed to get you to sleep in Harry’s bed with him – though not without a bit of negotiation.

It started with you sitting cross-legged on the floor, arms crossed over your chest, your lower lip sticking out in a pout. “I’m not tired,” you muttered, glancing toward the window as if expecting your dads to come back any second.

Lily knelt in front of you, her voice soft and patient. “I know, sweetheart, but it’s late, and Harry’s already in bed. Don’t you want to keep him company?”

You shook your head, looking away. “I want Dada.”

Lily sighed, sitting back on her heels, thinking for a moment. “How about this? If you go to bed now, I’ll read you your favourite story. And tomorrow, we can make pancakes for breakfast. You love pancakes, right?”

You hesitated, eyes flicking toward Harry’s bed where he was already fast asleep. “...With chocolate chips?”

Lily smiled, sensing victory. “Of course, with chocolate chips.”

You uncrossed your arms slowly but still didn’t move. “What if I have a bad dream?”

Lily’s heart softened, and she reached out to gently touch your cheek. “If you have a bad dream, you can come right into my room, okay? I’ll leave the door open, so you can come get me anytime.”

That seemed to be enough. Reluctantly, you stood up, clutching your stuffed animal tightly to your chest. “Okay,” you said softly, your eyes still glancing toward the door, but this time you let Lily take your hand and lead you to Harry’s bed.

As she tucked you in beside him, you held onto her hand for a moment longer, your small voice barely above a whisper. “Promise you won’t leave me?”

Lily leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I promise, sweetheart. I’m just in the next room.”

Satisfied, you finally settled into the covers, snuggling up next to Harry. Your eyes stayed on Lily as she pulled the blanket up over your shoulders, but when she smiled and whispered goodnight, you closed them, holding onto the comfort of her promise as sleep began to take over.

But it’s not long before, after Lily’s put you to sleep, that you wake up. Your small voice breaks the silence of the night. “Lily?” you whisper, standing in the doorway of her bedroom, clutching your bunny to your chest.

Lily sits up, blinking sleepily. “What is it, love? Did you have a bad dream?”

You nod, your lip quivering as you clutch your bunny tighter. “Can I sleep with you?”

Her heart softens instantly, and she lifts the covers without hesitation, inviting you in. “Of course, sweetheart. Come here.”

You crawl into bed beside her, snuggling into her warmth, and for a moment, everything feels okay. But as you settle down, you glance out the window and see the full moon hanging in the sky. It’s big and bright, and for a moment, you just stare at it, your small brow furrowing.

“Lily?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?” she hums, brushing a strand of hair from your face as she watches you.

“Why is the moon so big?” Your question sounds innocent enough, but there’s something deeper in your tone – something Lily can’t quite put her finger on.

She glances out the window at the moon, its silver light casting shadows across the room. “That’s just how it looks when it’s full,” she explains gently, her hand still resting on your cheek.

You nod slowly, but the quiet lingers longer than usual. Lily thinks you’ve fallen asleep as your breathing starts to slow, the rustling of the blankets the only sound in the room. But then, in the stillness, your soft whisper catches her by surprise.

“I know about Dad.”

Her heart skips a beat, and she looks down at you, confusion and concern written all over her face. “What do you mean, sweetheart? What do you know?”

You hesitate for a moment, your small fingers twisting the fabric of your bunny’s ear. Then, in the same tiny voice, you whisper again, “I know he’s a werewolf.”

Lily’s breath catches, her heart aching for you. She sits up slightly, pulling you even closer, her arms wrapping around your small body. “Oh, sweetie,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “Is that why you didn’t want to leave him tonight?”

You nod, your face pressing against her side, and your voice is muffled when you finally speak again. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Lily holds you tighter, her own heart breaking at how much you’ve been carrying inside. “Oh, love,” she whispers, her fingers gently stroking through your hair. “Your dad is very strong, and he has Sirius and James with him. They take care of each other, and they’ll always come home safe to you.”

You sniffle, your grip on your bunny loosening just a little as her words sink in. “But… I saw him. He had cuts and bruises.”

Lily’s heart squeezes painfully at your confession. She stays quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond. “I know it must be scary,” she says softly. “But your dad is always going to come home to you, no matter what.”

You look up at her, eyes wide and filled with worry. “Promise?”

Lily nods, her hand gently cupping your cheek. “I promise, sweetheart. Your dad loves you so much, and he’ll always be okay.”

You don’t say anything else, but after a few moments, you burrow closer into her, the tension slowly leaving your little body. Lily continues to hold you close, her heart aching for the weight of the secret you’ve been carrying.

Eventually, your breathing evens out, and Lily thinks you’ve fallen back asleep. But just as her eyes start to flutter shut, you whisper one last thing.

“Thank you, Lily.”

Her eyes well up with tears, but she swallows them down, pressing another kiss to your hair. “You’re welcome, love. Now get some rest, okay?”

And with that, you finally drift off, safe in Lily’s arms. The full moon outside continues to shine, but for now, you feel just a little bit more at peace.

When you wake up in the morning, Lily holds true to her promise – pancakes with chocolate chips! The smell fills the kitchen, and you sit on the bench, legs swinging as you watch her expertly flip each pancake in the skillet. The kitchen is warm, sunlight streaming through the windows, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Just as Lily finishes the last batch, the front door creaks open, and you turn your head to see James, Sirius, and Remus walk in. Your heart skips when you notice Sirius leading a kind of hurt-looking Remus toward the couch, his arm around him protectively. Remus looks tired, pale, and a bit wobbly on his feet.

“Morning, love,” James says as he steps into the kitchen, planting a kiss on Lily’s cheek. He flashes you a grin. “How’re my two favourite girls doing?”

“Good,” you reply quietly, but your eyes stay fixed on the living room, watching Sirius fuss over Remus, guiding him gently to sit on the couch.

You try to hop down from the bench, but it’s a little too high for you to manage on your own. Without a word, James notices and comes over, lifting you down with ease. “There you go, kiddo,” he says with a wink.

You don’t waste a second. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you run straight to your dad, Remus. He barely has time to brace himself before you fling your arms around him, giving him the biggest hug you can manage. “Dad!” you say, your voice muffled against his chest.

Remus lets out a soft laugh, though it’s a bit strained. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sit in his lap, clinging to him like you’re never letting go.

Sirius watches the two of you from the side, hands on his hips, and he lets out a dramatic sigh. “Where’s my hug, huh?” he jokes, feigning hurt.

You giggle, still snuggled in Remus’s lap. “You don’t need a hug, daddy, you’re fine,” you tease, glancing at him with a cheeky grin.

Sirius raises an eyebrow, stepping closer with a mock pout. “Fine? Me? Do I look fine? My heart’s breaking over here!”

Remus chuckles softly but says nothing, his hands gently brushing through your knotty hair.

You roll your eyes playfully at Sirius. “It’s just because… Dad’s special.”

Sirius snorts, eyes twinkling. “Special, huh? What, am I chopped liver? Come on, sweetheart, where’s my special?”

You giggle, glancing over at him, then say without thinking, “You don’t get one ‘cause you’re not a werewolf.”

The room falls into a sudden, heavy silence. All the adults freeze.

Sirius’s eyes go wide, his usual playful demeanour gone in an instant. “What?” he blurts out, looking between you and Lily, panic rising in his voice. “Who told her?”

Lily’s face pales as she stammers, “Sirius, she-”

“I figured it out,” you interrupt, your small voice cutting through the tension. “After last sleepover, when I came home, I saw Dada covered in lots of cuts and bruises.” You turn to Remus, your eyes wide and sincere. “I know you get hurt every time the moon is big.”

Remus’s arms tighten around you, his breath catching. He looks to the others, who are all standing there, unsure of what to say or do.

Sirius groans, running a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. “Merlin, Moony, I thought-”

“It’s okay,” Remus says quietly, his voice thick. He looks down at you, his expression soft, though there’s a sadness in his eyes. “She’s smart. She figured it out.”

James and Lily exchange a look, both unsure of how to handle the moment, but neither says a word.

You feel Remus sigh under you, his chest rising and falling heavily. He kisses the top of your head, brushing your hair gently. “You’re too clever for your own good, you know that?”

You just hug him tighter, as if holding on will keep him safe next time.

Remus’s arms remain around you, and he swallows hard before speaking, his voice soft but carrying the weight of everything unspoken. “I didn’t want you to worry about me, sweetheart,” he says, his words quiet but careful. “I hoped… maybe we could keep this from you for a little longer.”

You look up at him, confused. “But I already know, Dad. I’m not scared,” you say, your voice small but sure. “I just… I don’t want you to be hurt anymore.”

Remus’s face tightens, his eyes brimming with an emotion he’s trying to hold back. He glances at Sirius, who looks just as tense, before turning back to you. “I know you don’t, love,” he murmurs. “And I wish… I wish I could promise that I wouldn’t be, but…”

Sirius cuts in, his tone unusually sharp with worry. “We should’ve been more careful. I should’ve been more careful.” He’s pacing again, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Merlin’s beard, Moony, she’s too young to have to worry about – about this.”

Remus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as he watches Sirius pace. “It’s not your fault, Sirius,” he says, his voice steady but laced with weariness. “It’s no one’s fault.”

Sirius stops in his tracks, his jaw clenched. “But we should’ve been more careful. I should’ve been more careful.”

Remus shakes his head, looking down at you still sitting by his side. “She’s smart. We can’t hide everything from her forever.”

Sirius opens his mouth to argue, but Remus cuts him off, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s not your fault, Padfoot. She was going to figure it out eventually.” He gives a small, tired smile. “And I’d rather she hears it from us, in her own way, than find out some other way.”

You pull away from Remus’s chest just enough to look at Sirius, his usual playful smile nowhere in sight. “It’s okay, daddy,” you say quietly, trying to offer him a smile. “I just wanna help.”

Remus rubs your back gently, shaking his head. “You don’t need to help, sweetheart. It’s not your job to worry about me.” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “This… thing I go through every month, it’s hard, but I’ve been dealing with it for a long time. I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“I’m not,” you insist, your arms still clinging to him tightly. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Remus’s eyes soften further, and he lets out a heavy sigh. “I know, love. I know.”

From across the room, James speaks up, his voice gentler than before. “Kiddo, your dad is stronger than you realize. We’ve been with him for years through all of this, and we’ll always make sure he’s okay.” He exchanges a glance with Sirius, then adds, “And we’re going to keep you safe too, alright?”

You nod, but there’s still a weight in your chest. You glance back up at Remus, your mind racing. “But… why do I have to go to sleepovers every time the moon is big?”

The room goes quiet again, and you can sense the adults exchanging looks over your head. Remus shifts beneath you, clearly uncomfortable with your question. Sirius stops pacing, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s for your safety, love,” Remus says carefully, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. “Sometimes, when the moon is full, it’s… it’s better if you’re not around, just in case.”

“Because you’re a werewolf,” you state simply.

Remus stiffens, his jaw tightening. “Yes. Because I’m a werewolf.”

You study his face for a long moment, then nod, though something still doesn’t quite sit right with you. “But you’re not scary.”

Sirius’s voice cracks a bit as he lets out a strained laugh. “Oh, trust me, kid. He’s scary.”

Remus shoots Sirius a look, but you’re already shaking your head. “No, he’s not. He’s just Dad.”

Remus’s expression softens even more, and for a moment, he looks like he’s fighting back tears. “You’re too good to me, love,” he whispers, holding you close again.

The tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly, the weight of the secret hanging between all of you, but now out in the open. After a moment, James claps his hands together, trying to break the silence. “Well, now that that’s all out in the open… how about those pancakes?”

Lily, who has been quiet this whole time, steps forward with a soft smile, clearly relieved for a distraction. “Right. Pancakes.”

But before you can move, Remus tightens his arms around you one last time. “I love you, my clever girl,” he whispers, and there’s a warmth in his voice that makes you feel safe, no matter what the moon does. “Always remember that.”

You smile, squeezing him tightly. “I love you too, Dad.”

Remus gently helps you down from his lap, and as you straighten up, Sirius grins, holding his arms out wide. “Alright, now that we’ve had all the emotional stuff, where’s my hug? I may not be a werewolf, but I’m still pretty special, you know.”

You laugh, feeling lighter as you run over to him, wrapping your arms around him. “Okay, daddy,” you say, making Sirius groan dramatically as if your hug is squeezing all the air out of him.

“See? That’s better,” Sirius says, ruffling your hair with a playful smile. “Don’t let dad hog all the hugs.”

Lily’s gentle voice cuts through the moment, her smile soft but relieved. “Pancakes are ready, everyone.”

As you all start heading toward the table, James claps his hands together. “I’ll go grab Harry. Can’t start breakfast without him,” he says, flashing a grin before heading upstairs.

You turn to Remus, still feeling the weight of everything that’s been said. “Are you okay, Dad?” you ask softly, peeking up at him.

Remus smiles down at you, brushing a hand through your hair. “I will be, sweetheart. Especially with you looking out for me.”

You nod, the warmth of being surrounded by the people you love filling your chest. Together, you sit down at the table, the heavy secret now shared, but the bond between you and your family feeling stronger than ever.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x wolfstar!daughter!reader #lily evans #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar daughter #wolfstar #jily #oneshot #fluff #slight angst

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ilwonuu · 10 months ago

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𖥔 ͙ࣳ hate the club. k. mingyu

this fic is inspired by this song so pls listen to it <333

“tired of going out, scared ill run into you”

“damn you know i hate the club, but i came cuz i know you’d show up”

summary 𖡼 your friend group goes out every friday. you never feeling up to joining them. you always find an excuse not to come. but now you’re sitting at home with nothing to do. so why not drink a little and hangout with your friends at the club?? what could go wrong? seeing your ex could definitely happen..

warnings- ex to lovers!!, alcohol consumption, smut with semi plot. switch!mingyu, switch!reader, oral sex f.receiving, fingering, riding, pet names- baby,princess,unprotected sex(don’t do it), creampie, multiple orgasms, lmk if i missed anything pls<3

authors note- i read over this like once so if theres any spelling or grammar errors pls let me know!!! i hope u guys love this i loved writing it!!!!

you feel bored with no company tonight. not loving the presence of nothing of your apartment and stuff animals as you usually do. sending seungkwan a quick text telling him you’ll be joining him, seokmin, and chan tonight. getting a sassy text back as usual

kwannie😓- what the fuck. girl don’t play????

kwannie😓- u better not be lying because seokmin and chan are actually gonna be the death of me.

kwannie😓- be ready at 9 ok.

you- im not kidding hoe and yes i am already ready ish???

kwannie😓- ok ill be there at 9 😘😘😘

you smile to yourself continuing to get ready. checking to see if you have a good amount of time to finish your hair. happy to see you have enough time with it only being 8:15.

finishing everything you need to do finally making your way outside after getting a text from seungkwan saying that they have arrived. walking to his car somewhat nervous about what the night has in store for you. you never know you could meet someone? or see someone you absolutely hate.

getting into the car immediately being greeted by your best friends. “y/n!!!! i feel like im seeing a ghost you never fucking leave your house” chan says laughing causing you to send him a glare. “shush be happy im here for once okay”

“no seriously i thought my eyes were deceiving me when i read your text” seungkwan says quickly starting to head to the club they always go to. “ok guys thats enough let her live she doesn’t have to come out with us every time.” seokmin says giving you a slight smile.

“thank you seokmin. the only one who appreciates me” “okay but yes of course she doesn’t have to come out everytime. but she doesn’t come out anytimes!!! this is her first time in like 10 years” chan says laughing with seungkwan as he also finds chans joke hilarious. causing them both to receive a glare.

“very funny chan!!! i will get out of the car and walk back home.” you say looking at him threatening him playfully. “you’re dramatic” kwan says finally pulling into the parking lot of the club.

“im also very nervous to be here.” “if we see anyone we don’t like it’ll be fine y/n we don’t have to interact or anything” chan says knowing exactly who you were thinking of getting out of the car having the rest of you follow his lead into the club.

“yea you’re right..” you say slowly walking behind them into the loud crowd of people dancing. “ok first things first drinks!!!!” seungkwan yells dragging you all to the bar. chan seokmin order vodka shots happily, quickly running to dance in the crowd of people. “can we just get two shots of tequila each?” seungkwan asks for the both of you. smiling at the bartender when his drinks are set in front of you two. “okay lets drink these then lets dance!!!” seungkwan smiles at you quickly taking his shots now waiting for you to do the same.

you nervously take the shots making a grossed out face after downing it with a sip of water. seungkwan pulling you towards the crowd as soon as you were ready shortly finding seokmin and chan. “how do you guys get drunk so fast?” you laugh at seokmin and chan completely lost in the song dancing dramatically. “they are fucking lightweights” seungkwan says causing you both to laugh at them.

“i fucking wish. i only feel a little tipsy” you say scanning around the club with your eyes. “do you want to get more drinks or wait a bit then??” seungkwan asks while pulling you close to dance with him. “nah we can wait” you say over the loud music.

you are really trying to have a good time but this isnt really your thing. you were hoping that the drinks would losen your nerves up a little bit but you were so wrong. now you are dancing completely soberly with seungkwan. trying not to ruin your best friends night. “im gonna go to the bathroom real fast kwannie” you whisper to him before disappearing to find the bathroom. you quickly use the bathroom heading back over to the bar to get a couple more shots. “fuck why did i do this to myself” you say under your breath quickly downing the shots without water this time. feeling a little better making your way back into the crowd searching for any of the three boys you arrived with.

pushing through the crowd trying to find them. you accidentally push someone a little to hard quickly going to apologize. “i am s-so sorry.” you say realizing exactly who you bumped into having them turn and look down at you. “jesus you push fucking h-“ mingyu immediately freezes after seeing you. “fuck y/n? what are you doing here?”

“well this is a public place and a club so i would assume we’re here for the same reason.” you say sarcastically while trying to push past him. “well what are you doing by yourself?” he asks concerned stopping your movements. “where is seungkwan?” he looks around the club quickly scanning seeing if he sees anyone who looks like the boy. “well actually im not sure so if you’ll excuse me i will be continuing to look for my friends.” you say finally trying to push past him again.

“wait just let me help you look for them. it’s kinda depressing being here alone.” he says once again finally letting you push past him to continue looking. he follows behind you slowly. “so uh how have you been?” you scoff stopping to look at him. “are you serious right now? i really would rather not pretend to like you right now okay? just help me find seungkwan and then you can go back to whatever you were doing.”

you say sighing going back to looking for you friends. mingyu doesn’t say another word and just follows you quietly. “why don’t you call him?” he suggests. “i left my phone in seungkwans car like the bright fucking person i am.” you say getting more annoyed as the situation goes on.

“shit you wanna use my phone then? i still have his number from you know..” he says nervously handing you his phone after clicking on seungkwans contact. “y-yea thanks” you take his phone letting the memories wash over you. you patiently wait as the phone starts to ring and shortly someone picks up. “seungkwan??? where did you fucking go??” you are now getting more uncomfortable with the fact that you lost all of them in the span of 10 mins. “um what the fuck mingyu you sound like y/n also why the hell are you calling me?” seungkwan slurs over the phone questioning you. “seungkwan ur drunk. also this is fucking y/n im using mingyus phone dumbass!!” your voice sounding annoyed more now. “girl what? why are you using his phone? are you guys…? um back together?” he asks loud enough for both you and mingyu to hear.

you sigh looking at mingyus eyes go wide at what he just heard. “s-seungkwan can you just fucking tell me where you went? you know what fuck it im just gonna get an uber home okay im tired.” you say slightly tearing up at the stressful situation. “we just went to the bar upstairs y/n. are you sure you wanna leave already we’ve only been here for like an hour.”

seungkwan asks through the phone sensing that something is wrong. “do you want me to send seokmin with you? he said he will come with you.” he offers. “kwannie its fine ill just order it off mingyu’s phone. will you just drop off my phone tmr? i left it in your car.” you say finally after ending the call after hearing his okay.

“mingyu do you mind if i use your phone to order a uber?” you turn to mingyu hoping he will say yes. “yes of course y/n. but you don’t need to do that. cheol said he was here to pick up me and shua but im guessing shua is with some girl so cheol can just drop you off.” he says smiling at you. “okay um let me make sure i have my keys and fuck i don’t they are also in seungkwans car.” you say realizing as you feel your pockets. “wanna just stay at my place tonight?” he blurts out quickly. “mingyu- i- what?” now your confused, tired, and annoyed. “just come sleep at my place. its not that weird y/n. what’s the chance seungkwan is gonna come unlock his car rn? come on i’ll drop you off in the morning i swear.” “its not weird to you? we haven’t spoke in like a year.”

this was not a great idea. you and mingyu ended on somewhat bad terms. he wasn’t willing to commit to you. he ended up treated you like shit because of it. you know this has nothing to do with what he asked but it’s obviously on your mind. you are now confused, tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed.

“y/n i kinda need a answer now. cheol is outside.” he says snapping you out of your thoughts and back into reality. “u-uh okay yea lets go” you say immediately regretting it. mingyu smiles grabbing your hand making the way out of the club to cheols car. quickly getting into the back seat.

“whats up mingyu. hey y/n. y/n????? oh shit hi” he says now realizing that is is actually you. “hello cheol nice to see you” you say softly laughing. “yea you too. um are you guys back together?” he asks out of the blue. “nope!!” you quickly say hoping he doesn’t ask anymore questions. “just drive cheol.” mingyu says and mentally thank him because cheol didn’t ask anymore questions driving silently. you two make it to mingyu’s house after a 10 minute car drive. “ah fucking finally these heels are literally the worst” you say walking into his house kicking them off as you go. “you can borrow some clothes. i think i even have your old pjs in my room.” he says taking off his shoes as well. “im surprised you even still have those.” you say making your way to his room. the memories coming back as you seen his room looks the same way it did when you guys were together. you grab the pajamas making your way to his bathroom quickly changing heading back into his living room. “you want to take my bed? i can sleep out on the couch.” he says throwing a pillow and blanket onto the couch. “no mingyu its fine i can take the couch. you can have your bed.” you say laughing at him slightly going to sit on the couch. “or you can sleep in my bed with me.” mingyu says looking at you cautiously. now leaving you pressured at what he is offering right now. “mingyu. what are you doing? you know that isn’t a good idea. we aren’t together anymore.” you say laying down getting comfortable. “i know we aren’t. but fuck y/n have you not been thinking about us at all? or anything that we had. i miss it. i miss you.”

you look at him with a blank expression. what the fuck do you say? of course you think about him and your relationship. more than you should. “mingyu i do okay. i never stopped really but im not in the mood to get hurt again okay.” “i fucking promise you i will never treat you the same way i did okay?” he moves to sit next to you on the couch moving to grab your hands. “let me make it up to you? let me show you i can be there for you. i want to be the boyfriend you deserve. will you just give me a chance?” you think for a couple seconds.

he seems genuine. you did miss him a lot. a chance doesn’t hurt right? “okay mingyu. i will sleep with you in your bed okay. but i swear if you do anything like how you did before the break-“ he kisses you softly shutting you up. “i promise.” he says holding his pinky up

you wrap your pinky around his smiling as he lifts you and carries you to his room. softly throwing you onto his bed and climbing next to you. “you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought i was never gonna see you again.”

“yep that was the plan until i saw you at the club.” you state not wanting to lie to him. “well im so glad i saw you.” you smile at him. “can i make it up to you? ill make you feel so good y/n if you let me please.” hes already begging and you guys haven’t even done anything but a kiss.

he was always like this. he would immediately get needy after one small touch. mingyu was definitely a fucking switch. most of the time he loved being in control and seeing you beg for him. but everyone knew mingyu always leaned towards the subby side. he will listen to your requests always. if you’re happy he’s happy.

you nod softly at him watching him quickly shift between your legs pull down your shorts and underwear in one swift movement. kissing up your thighs slowly making your breath hitch under his touch. “fuck you’re so wet and i haven’t even touched you baby.” slowly moving his fingers up your slit inserting a finger in. his fingers immediately hit your g-spot causing you to already squirm until his firm touch.

“fuck you’re so tight. i can barely move my finger babe.” watching you closely as he inserts a second and third finger quickly watching as you get wetter from his touch. “g-gyu please more i need more.” you beg him hoping to add something extra to get you closer to your high.

“shh baby let me take my time i promise you’ll get everything you need okay?” he says sweetly pulling his fingers out of you with the noise of your squelch filling the room. “you hear yourself baby? you’re making a mess on my bed already hm?” he coos at you shifting so that his head is in between your legs. gently grabbing your thighs to spread your legs. “i bet you taste as sweet as i remember hm? could eat you for fucking days.” he immediately dives into eating your pussy. licking your slit as he slides one of his fingers back inside you.

“g-gyu oh my god.” eyes rolled back having your back arched as he absolutely devours you roughly sucking your clit fucking his finger into you quicker. looking up at you through his eyelashes not stopping his movements. not even to praise you. he is too pussy drunk and doesn’t want to stop anytime soon. grabbing a hold of his hair pulling on it when his finger hits that spot again making you go crazy. “m-mingyu i’m gonna cum please don’t stop.” and he doesn’t he sucks on your clit harder keeping up his pace with his finger. you come all over his tongue and his fingers. fucked out completely as you watch mingyu lick up your cum and hum.

“you taste so sweet princess. fucking delicious baby.” he smiles at you again moving up to kiss your lips. tasting yourself on his lips.

“what do you want baby? i will give you anything you want.” pulling his shirt over his head looking at you waiting for your answer. “can i ride you? g-gyu please i need you so bad.” he nods quickly. “m’course you can” he moves so he’s sitting up against the headboard of the bed. watching as you move onto his lap.

you have never seen mingyu take his pants off quicker. immediately pulling his dick out pulling your face closer to peck your lips. smiling into the kiss lining up his dick with your entrance slowly sinking down onto him.

mingyu is always more subby with this position immediately begging and pleading for your touch. “f-fuck y/n please move i need it so bad please baby.” he begs you trying not to fuck his hips into you.

you slowly rock your hips into his moaning at the feeling holding onto his shoulders for support. “you’re so tight im gonna cum so quick. i-i’m fuck i’m sorry” grabbing ahold of your hips to move you quicker on him. “i’m so close baby fuck.” he says feeling you bouncing on his dick now trying to chase your own high. “m-me too.” he groans lowly feeling his dick twitch inside of you. “f-fuck can i cum inside or where do you want it?” “inside p-please.” he doesn’t have to be told twice immediately cumming inside of you throwing his head back lost in the intense pleasure

you don’t stop bouncing on him. “babe i’m so sensitive fuck.” he says to you still fucked out holding onto you.

you nod. “i know baby but please you can last a little longer right? for me right? my good boy.” you try to turn him on with your words knowing it will go straight to his dick. he moans at your words pulling you into a quick kiss. “y-yes i’m so good for you.”

you smile at him quickening your movements now really needing his shoulder for support as you feel yourself coming. “f-fuckkk look at you c-creaming on my cock oh shit im gonna cum again.” you feel his cum shoot immediately into you. moaning at the feeling riding out both of your highs.

slowly climbing off of his lap laying next to him. “i missed you so fucking much.” he says pulling you under the covers with him kissing your forehead. “i missed you too but i don’t miss how you think i just want to lay here feeling your cum leak out of me.” you say playfully shifting to show him the puddle that is now under your crotch.

“its fine baby we can shower in the morning. plus what if we fuck again. you’ll just be full of my cum again.” he says with a straight face. you roll your eyes burying your face into his neck.

“i guess we’ll have to explain to seungkwan and cheol why we told them we weren’t back together…” you think out loud before falling asleep in your boyfriends arms.

#Spotify #mingyu #mingyu smut #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #svt hard thoughts #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt smut #svt #svt fanfic

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varyajc · 4 months ago

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Can you do the Hashiras with a partner who is an ex dancer that is very flexible and fast? They became a hashira very quickly and were usually quiet until they became comfortable with the hashiras😺 it can be nsfw or sfw🍕🦄🐺

HASHIRA HEADCANONS

CONFESSING TO AN EX-DANCER - Sanemi Shinazugawa, Giyu Tomioka, Shinobu Kocho, Mitsuri Kanroji, and Kyojuro Rengoku

a/n; UGH, THANK YOU FOR THE ASK! These are just headcanons for now since I’m working on a Sanemi fic! (I was originally going to do them dating, but I decided to do confessing, why? Because..I dunno. Pls lmk if you wanted something different!) I’m going to be real here, I don’t write for demon characters often, so this might be out of character. Forgive me.

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

~When you first became a Hashira, he didn’t exactly care for you. He simply thought you were another Hashira, so why the fuss?

~However, you thought he disliked you, which somewhat let you to also distancing yourself from him.

~Soon, you found yourself becoming close with the other Hashira besides Sanemi.

~You attempt to make a conversation with him, getting nowhere.

~Despite all this, you still attempt to speak with him, go on missions, etc. He soon found you quite..alluring? Your voice was extremely soft, you’re good what you do, and even took notice of your physical abilities.

~I wouldn’t say he was exactly impressed, but it did catch his attention somehow.

~Then when he finally took notice of your skills, I would say his respect for you went up more. That’s when he decided to finally make an effort to somewhat form a friendship? He was hesitant to try and become friends, so he stubbornly figured he could at least speak with you more.

~After a while, he devolved a crush on you. Why? Because of your unshakeable character, how attached you are to your family, and is very intelligent.

~He confesses to you, and oh my, he’s so awkward. He’s stumbling over his words, his hands are shaking, whilst his eyes are bloodshot and pupils incredibly small.

~To his surprise, you say yes to dating him, which catches him off guard but also makes him the happiest man on earth.

~The rest is history.

GIYU TOMIOKA

~When you first became a hashira, like Sanemi, Giyu didn’t exactly take notice of you.

~Whenever you tried to speak with Giyu, he’d just stay silent and listen, and after you finished, he walks away without another word.

~You’d speak to Tomioka normally, with you doing the talking.

~However, when you two went on a mission, he finally saw you in action. He wasn’t exactly like mind-blown impressed, just respected you more as a Hashira rather than someone who’s just there.

~However, you started to show interest in him. It was very subtle, but he was very overwhelmed by the way you attempted to give him affection.

~I’m extremely doubtful that Giyu would be the one to confess, I think you would confess. However, he doesn’t accept your confession, in fear he’d hurt you or lose you.

~I feel like he’d use an excuse. “Give me more time.”

~I don’t see Giyu dating anybody..unless; They defend him, go out of their way to speak with him, and definitely gives him space whenever he needs it.

~And when he does reluctantly agrees to date with you, I’ll just say he’s comfortable..for now.

SHINOBU KOCHO

~When you appeared as a Hashira, she was pleased that another one has been added to the mix.

~I can see her making an effort speaking with you, she’s quite pleasant and that’ll make you feel more comfortable around her.

~You guys speak fairly often, often going on missions together, even. She was also shocked to see you being so..flexible and quicker than her.

~However, when you started to show interest in her, she noticed it IMMEDIATELY.

~I can see her confessing, but I feel you’ll crack first and confess. She’s not opposed to the idea of dating you, but you two are hashira, remember that, so you have to somewhat keep the public affection subtle.

(I can’t write for her, I’m so sorry if this is out of character.)

MITSURI KANROJI

~I just know she’s excited she has a new comrade to speak with! I can see her totally speaking to you first, as you are very shy.

~Her bubbly personality makes you most likely open up to her immediately, I guess I can say you feel somewhat safe around her.

~You guys eat together all the time, go out to eat, train together, send each-other letters. I can see herself making hand-made gifts for you as well.

~I can see her falling for you easily, your angelic face and soft voice makes her melt.

~She confesses to you, and she ends up crying of happiness when you accept her confession.

~The love you both have for each-other is so beautiful, you two spend even more time together after you two become official.

KYOJURO RENGOKU

~I know Rengoku would go up to you first, with his loud, booming, voice of his.

~The more he approaches you, the more you warm up and start being more relaxed around him rather than tense whenever you hear his loud voice.

~I can see the more you two interact, the more you two want to spend time with each-other. (In a friendly matter.)

~However, the more time you two spend with each-other, the more you start slowly start falling for Kyojuro.

~Does he notice? No. I feel like he’d be completely oblivious to any romantic interest shown in him, even when you give hints!

~This man is completely shocked when you confess to him, doesn’t accept confession right away because he know if he likes you like THAT.

~After a while, he does chose to date you, and long story short, I’ll say you two are happy..for now.

a/n: can you tell I got lazy at the end? Wtv, I need 🍃 + 🚬

#sanemi shinaguzawa #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #reqs open #requests open #demon slayer #mitsuri kanroji #kny mitsuri #mitsuri x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kny rengoku #kyojuro x reader #shinobu kocho #kny shinobu #shinobu x reader #giyu tomioka #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader

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essentiallyleaf · 1 year ago

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Ya know what , I'll give you an idea

As a commercial pilot how bout a kink "plane sex"

And pls write Rosé with this kink

day 15. body worship. with. rosé.

1268 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, body worship, lots of kissing and licking, feet stuff, abs stuff, oral sex, fingering, squirting, minor plane stuff, the dialogue just goes places idk, hold onto your suspension of disbelief for dear life, blasphemy(?).

notes.

this is barely even related to the ask, isn’t it? sorry, icyphilosopher, i really am (thank you so much for the inspiration though). well, my excuse is i watched Queen & Slim (it was alright, the soundtrack might be the best part. that and Daniel Kaluuya) and felt like crime today.

The private jet has barely taken off when Rosé starts taking her clothes off, starting from the black heels, then proceeding with the black cropped blazer, the high-waisted black shorts, along with the belt and the chains attached to them, the polka dot black shirt, and finishing with the black stockings and her black underwear. She puts them all in a black trash bag and throws herself on the beige leather sofa face first, completely naked.

“Fuck this ‘No fires on the plane’ rule.” She complains into the beige pillow.

“I mean, if you want to burn them now and cause a fire, making the jet collapse on itself and getting us buried on the bottom of the northern Pacific, go ahead.” You reply nonchalantly as you take a sip of vodka while sitting cross-legged on one of the beige armchairs.

“Honestly, compared to the prospect of a ten-hour flight with you, that doesn’t even sound that bad”

It’s Rosé’s habit to burn clothes, phones, cars, (people,) anything that can be linked to her in a meaningful way, after every job. This time it was a fairly straightforward drug trade with this Yakuza syndicate in Osaka: give the talcum powder, take the money, go home. The road was somewhat bumpy and a couple heads had to pop, but what can you do. Oh, and the getting naked in front of you part, that was a thing way before you two started fucking.

You stand up from your seat and duck next to the couch as she turns her head towards you. Start caressing her smooth, long blonde hair as you admire her graceful features. How could such a cold, brutal criminal look so angelic?

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Leave no trace.” She recites her mantra matter-of-factly.

“You think someone’s on our trail?”

You lay on top of her and start kissing her shoulders, from the left, then move her hair to kiss her neck, to the right, and back a couple times.

“Someone’s always on your trail.” Your kisses start heading down her back, each a little wetter than the previous. “You know how it always ends with people like us, right?”

You think you hear Rosé’s voice break for a split second, but you could be wrong. Place your hands on her shoulders and start slowly making little circles with your thumbs as you keep traveling down.

“We get greedy and scared and die sad and alone?”

“We always trust one person too many”

As your trail of kisses gets to her lower back, right above the curve of her ass, you flip her body around. Bend her legs on her chest, then start massaging each foot with one of your hands, going from the middle of her soles, to her heels, to the balls of her feet, untangling her muscle fibers all the way through. You hear her humming in the meantime.

“So? Would you stop living your life for that?”

“I would try my best not to end my life because of that.” You bring her feet to your mouth and start pecking her toes, then travel down the inside of her feet and up again kissing her soles. “Plus, it gives me a sense of peace, of liberation”

“Ashes to ashes?”

“In that analogy, I would be… God?”

Take a long lick from her heel to the ball of her foot, ending by wrapping your lips around her big toe and licking all around it.

“Do you feel like one?”

“I don’t think God sees himself like we see him” She moves her other foot towards your mouth to signal you to switch, which you do, as your hands reach towards her small breasts and start softly playing with her rosy nipples. “Powerful men need people to adore them to feel immortal. Immortals don’t need our attention to be powerful”

“You think God is a woman?”

“I think God is a depressed fuck.”

You let out a chuckle. Then lower her knees again and place yourself between them to start kissing and licking her wonderful, sculpted abs. Your right hand almost instinctively starts lightly rubbing her already wet outer lips, your left grabbing her plump asscheek.

“What a short couple billion years alone in the button room could do to ya”

“But honestly, working on the wrong side of the law… I think it’s hard not to feel like one” She starts panting a little in between words.

“Ego?” Your mouth slowly travels down her lower stomach while your fingers play with her nub.

“Just, pure facts. I could kill a man that crosses my path at any time, and I have. Mmmmh. We just, own their lives. The decision to let them live on, or to end them, right then and there. It’s all ours. Yeahh- How do you not feel all-powerful when you have that?”

It becomes hard for her to complete a sentence without any moans in between.

“Does it matter?”

“W-What?”

Rosé’s focus is probably directed away from the conversation, and towards the feeling of your fingers opening her lips wide and your tongue taking one long lick from the bottom of her slit up to her sensitive clit.

“I don’t know them. Are decisions over the lives of people you don’t care about even worth making?”

You take several shorter licks around her slit, side to side, up and down, once in a while penetrating her hole slightly.

“What do y-youh care about?”

As her moans become longer and more frequent, her sentences become simpler and shorter.

“Right now, taking my money home”

Your tongue digs deep into her pussy, you try to reach every corner and crevice of her heat with it, and her whimpers tell you you’re doing a pretty good job at it.

“And th-en, what?”

Your mouth detaches from her right as she sounds like she’s going to give in. You get on your knees and pause for a second, looking at the empty floor of the plane.

“...I don’t know, a legacy?”

“Villains have no legacy, they only leave bloody paper and hate behind them”

You get back down to face her, staring right down Rosé’s deep brown orbs. Your fingers return to her lower lips, and two of them make their way into her slippery walls, drawing a loud groan off of her. You start pumping in and out of her at an ever increasing pace.

“Love. I want someone to come back home to, to be there, waiting for me, to heal my wounds.” She’s now moaning right in your face, her pitch getting higher and higher, signaling her impending high, but her eyes are wide open and locked on yours. “To be able to spend time with, in silence, without it feeling awkward, not needing to worry about the future, just looking at her in the eyes, and, being in love.”

A few final pumps and Rosé starts repeatedly contracting around you, a stream of unholy water covering your entire hand and wrist in a profane coating, only a deep, tongue-filled kiss muting her screams as she finally can’t keep her eyes open anymore. You close yours with her as her arms wrap around your neck. The kiss lasts far longer than the already lengthy while she takes to recover from her strong orgasm. As both of you stare into each other’s pupils again, you’re the first to talk.

“How do you know when you’ve found what you’re looking for?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll start from, looking at the junk I’ve collected on my way, before burning it”

footnotes.

god is a journey. progressively, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #blackpink #rosé #rose #blackpink smut #rose smut #rosé smut #blackpink rose smut #blackpink rosé smut

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princesachicana · 1 year ago

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 pt.2

a/n: it's finally here!! how long has it been?! first things first i want to say thank you to everyone who's been rooting for this fic!! I honestly hit a huge writers block and had no motivation to write!! but all the sweet messages from people saying they enjoyed my work has made me so happy!!! SO ONCE AGAIN THANK U AND I HOPE U ENJOY!! I tried my EXTRA HARDEST SO I HOPE THIS GIVES U THE CLOSURE YALL WANTED I LOVE YOU SM! ALSO THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES!! I JUST WANTED TO FINALLY POST FOR U GUYS!!

It took a lot out of you not to stay in bed the next morning. The softness of your bed wrapped around your body gives you some sort of comfort. But of course, staying in bed would only make you feel worse. At least if you got up it would be easier to fake happiness. To no surprise, your phone was flooded with missed calls and texts from both Steven and Belly. Of course, you only responded to belly telling her that you'll explain your reasoning for ditching your "date" with Steven later.

Why did Steven even bother leaving you so many texts last night? If you were such a bother to him? Annoying. That's what he thinks you are. And what if you never heard those disgusting things he said about you? and went on the date with him? Would he just continue to lead you on?

Steven: waiting for you by the pool.

Steven: ur late

Steven: u look pretty even though i can't even see you. pls im starving

Steven: is belly holding you hostage?

Steven: it's been 18 minutes cmon.

Steven: the guys are going to laugh at me for being stood up I'm getting nervous.

Steven: did something happen are you okay?

Steven: belly is worried as well lmk.

You laughed at the messages blinking back angry tears that threatened to fall. Gosh! he was so fake. You could only imagine how relieved he must have been to not hang out with you.

Belly: have funnnn

Belly: no funny business!!

Belly: wait where did you go?!

Belly: Steven keeps pacing back and forth waiting for u

Belly: what’s going on?

Belly: just let us know ur okay

Belly: y/n ??!?!??

Y/n: hey, something came up last night sorry I had you worried. can u come over?

Belly arrived 20 minutes later. You spent the time together watching reruns of your favorite Disney show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Belly asked after a while, noticing something was bothering you.

“I overheard the guys talking about me last night.” You fiddled with the throw blanket that was on your lap. “At first it was just them teasing Steven about our date or whatever.” You took a deep breath upset that you felt like crying. “But Steven only agreed to hang out with me…” You paused blinking back tears. Belly moved closer immediately pulling you into a hug. “He only agreed to hang out with me…so I could stop annoying him! I honestly don’t know what I did wrong?” You pulled away from belly’s arms wiping your tears that had fallen.

“Maybe I was too forward? but I just wanted to see if he felt the same way…it was dumb.” You shrugged. Belly shook her head “Nope my brother is a fucking idiot!” she stood up taking your hand in hers and pulling you up. “I won’t let you mope around all day because of him!” You sighed “I don’t even have a choice do I?” Belly laughed shaking her head. “What do you say we go to the boardwalk? Taylor’s coming in today too” she smirked.

“And maybe someone would be happy to see you I don’t know” she whispered with a grin. “What are you talking about?” You questioned. “Well you know Xavier..the one that works the lemonade stand?” You nodded your head yes. “Well, he totally has the hots for you.” You cringed at her word choice. “He does not!” You laughed. “Oh, he does! you were too busy ogling my brother last summer you didn’t notice him ogling you.” she poked your side teasingly.

“Now let’s go!”

“Stay still before I poke your eye out” Taylor groans finishing up your eyeliner. You were now at the Fisher’s beach house getting ready to go down to the boardwalk. You laugh pulling away “I think that’s enough…if you make my eyeliner any thicker I’d cry!” Taylor playfully pushes your head away. “Sorryyyyy i want to make Xavier fall to his knees when he sees you!” You frown when she brings that name up. Sure, Xavier was a nice guy…and he was cute…but he wasn’t Steven.

You’d always imagined Steven being your first everything. First kiss, first date, first time. It was something you’d dreamt of all this time.

“Yeah…im going to get a snack before we head out do y’all want anything?” You ask heading towards the door. Both girls gave you a sympathetic smile shaking their heads no.

As you reached the kitchen you stopped in your tracks. Steven turned from looking into the fridge. You made eye contact for about 5 seconds before you beelined for the cabinets. “Hey,” Steven broke the silence as you pulled out a granola bar. You felt the warmth of his stare and turned finding him now leaning against the counter. “Hey…” you whispered looking anywhere but his face. “So you gonna tell me what happened last night?” Steven crossed his arms around his chest.

“Just didn’t feel up for it anymore ..” You shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s it?” Steven scoffed. “Yeah…that’s it” you whispered about to walk away. “What’s going on? I’m like so confused right now.” Steven gently gripped your arm. “Nothing just forget it…it’s not like you wanted to go anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “And what makes you think that?” He muttered eyes scouring your face for the truth. “Um, I don’t know let’s see …you quite literally ignored me this entire week!” You responded sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean to. I had a lot of shit on my mind alright?” Steven uttered softly. It almost felt genuine. The words he spoke just last night almost became liquid. “Yeah like what?” You whispered eventually looking into his eyes. “You can tell me..” You spoke gently stepping into him closer. No matter how much he’s hurt you. Steven would always make you melt. “Nothing let’s just forget about it…he pulled away opening up the fridge once again.”

It was like a switch was flipped. How he went right back to that cold shoulder he had been giving you all week. “You're a fucking asshole” You spewed, already ready to walk out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” He abruptly spoke again. “The boardwalk…you know? so I won’t annoy you here.” With that, you left a confused and remorseful Steven behind.

“Hey, look y/n why don’t you go get a lemonade?” Belly suggested with an eyebrow raise. Shit. you were hoping they forgot about that. “Guys I don’t feel up for this..” You pouted looking between both Taylor and Belly. “Noooo go talk to him! you look hot as fuck.” Taylor gently grabbed your face giving you a mini pep talk.

“What if Xavier wants to hang out..I cant just ditch you guys?!?” You were stalling and they knew it. “We’ll be here waiting for you” Belly smiled. “Just try to have fun alright? But hey if you don’t really want to do it …we’ll back off” She narrowed her eyes at Taylor. “No…I’ll go” You laughed giving both of them a hug “Thank you guys.i really appreciate this.” You’d definitely still be moping around in your room about Steven if it wasn’t for Belly and Taylor. They both wished you luck as you headed straight for the lemonade stand.

As soon as he spotted you. The biggest smile spread across his face. “y/n? damn, it’s been so long” Xavier greeted you with a hug. “It’s only been a year!” You playfully ruffled his curly hair that sat atop his head. “That’s way too long…I enjoy seeing pretty girls year-round.” He spoke smoothly, he definitely knew how to talk to girls. “Shut up” You laughed pushing him away with not that much force.

“I have an hour lunch break…you up for arcade games?”

“So…you seeing anyone?” Xavier asked as he ate a scoop of his mint chocolate chip ice cream. You thought about it for a moment. Technically no you weren’t seeing anyone. But you knew you were still hung up on Steven. A day at the boardwalk with Xavier wouldn’t change that. “It’s complicated…I guess” Xavier sighed “I've been there…it’s rough” You nodded you were curious as to what he meant but you didn’t want to be nosey.

“Hey, look they have street fighter..” Xavier smirked. “Want to go a couple of rounds?” You nodded immediately pulling him towards the game. “Mhhm loser buys the winner a funnel cake!” You suggested with a chuckle. “Ouuu im so down y/n” Xavier squeezed your hand that held his quickly striding towards the arcade game.

Just two more steps, Just two more steps and you’d be fine. The rowdy yelling completely threw you off. You stopped in place looking behind you where the voices were coming from. You had no time to move out of the way, no time to prevent this from happening.No time to stop the trio of boys that you knew all too well. Suddenly a body collided with Xavier, the force immediately making your intertwined hands lose. “Dude, what the fuck?” Xavier groaned. It was then that you snapped back into reality. Eyes wide when you noticed Xavier’s ice cream now all over his shirt.

“What’s up? how are we doing?” That voice full of humor made you scoff. Steven stood tall a smile on his face. You hated that it kind of made your heart flutter. “Steven, what is your problem?” You gestured towards Xavier’s now ice cream stained shirt. “He’ll be fine y/n it’ll wash out.” Steven laughed, but once he noticed you didn’t find this funny at all he frowned. “I’m sorry man, I just came over to say what’s up..” You ignored Steven’s apology not believing he meant it. “Hey want me to help you get cleaned up?” You asked Xavier voice full of concern.

“No.I got it…I’ll see y’all later.” Xavier spoke nonchalantly as he walked away. When he was out of eyesight you brushed past steven heading out the door.

“Y/n” Steven immediately followed behind you. His long legs make it easier for him to catch up with you. “You embarrassed me” You stopped outside the arcade, letting him pull you to the side. “Embarrassed? sorry to interrupt your little date” Steven scoffed. “It's not a date we were just hanging out, why do you care?” You groaned running your hands down your face. “Maybe because just yesterday you were supposed to hang out with me?” Steven spoke definitively.

“Oh my god, just earlier you agreed to forget about it,” you said with an eye roll. “It was dumb, stop acting like you care just go home Steven I did you a favor.” He shook his head “What are you talking about right now?” Steven pulled you in closer, one of his hands placed on your waist. The other coming to the side of your face, willing you to look at him.

“I heard you.i heard everything,” you spoke up voice hoarse. Steven’s heart carried pain at the tears that stood brimming in your eyes. The realization was clear when he made the connection. “And you know..who cares what Jeremiah and Conrad think! what hurt the most was you.” You shrieked. You hated that you were crying in front of him. You hated that when he hauled you against his chest you felt secure.

“I'm sorry baby... I'm sorry” Steven sounded voice vulnerable. Leaving kisses atop your head. “Why would you say that?” you sobbed breaking down in front of the boy who caused it. “I didn't mean any of it” Steven brought your face between his hands once again. “But you said it..it still fucking hurts Steven.”

You wiped your face getting prepared to pull away and walk back home.

“Wait, please let me talk to you.” Steven begged. “okay” you replied being prepared to cry all over again. “My head has been all fucked up..and that isn't an excuse I know” Steven looked down as if he couldn't construct the next words. “Please don't shut me out.” you pleaded gently. “I want you...i have all this time.” Steve confessed for the first time.

“—And I didn't want to fuck anything up we've..been so close all our lives if I ever messed that up I would never forgive myself.” It's as if you were dreaming, the boy you loved stood in front of you disclosing his feelings for you. “And what? this whole week of you acting cold towards me, were you trying to avoid your feelings?” Steven bobbed his head “Yes, if I lied to myself it would make lying to everyone else easier because the fucking truth is I want you so bad” You didn't tell him but at that moment you forgave him.

“And you called me the annoying one?” You giggled pushing on his chest gently. “Right now we could have been making out on the beach….but noo you had to be a brooding boy” Steven tickled your side, causing you to squirm in his arms. “Yeah, my fault can I kiss you now? been practically wanting to my whole life.” Steven threw his head back fake pouting setting one hand over his chest. You figured you'd throw his words right back at him. “You're so desperately desperate”

Steven smirked “Yeah for you? I am” Those words welcomed a whole lot of beautiful feelings. At that moment is when Steven bent down bringing his lips down onto your own. As your lips moved together, butterflies erupted in your belly. You smiled against his lips when you both needed a breath. “Hey, by the way, your not off the hook.. I'm still sort of pissed at you.” You declared pointing a finger into his chest.

“Yeah, I figured” He laughed wrapping his arms even tighter around you. “How about I make it up to you this whole week? I'm taking you out on dates…ill even get on my knees if I have to. I'm going to follow you around like a puppy.” Steven rambled on. You laughed out loud covering your mouth with your hands. “Oh, it's funny?” Steven raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Yeah, you're such a loser.” You joked.

Before Steven could respond you tugged him into another kiss. Perhaps everything wasn't one hundred percent fixed. But you and Steven were finally here together. You and Steven were finally in each other's arms that's all that mattered. You’d figure out the rest together.

tags 🤍: @gillybear17 @snowsharkk @tesssastle @conradsupporterr @alyssa-cabrera @eranthisphiny @xoxoloverb @lostaurorax @lanisdreams @alexzluvz @lalaland-notfound @liltimmyst @unsaidjaelineose @buckys2thicc @lilygreennn @t8lzw @medusaslilsister @1-800-stilinski @yazmi710 @j-brielmalfoy @ashcannotwrite @colbysbrocks @exonct07 @multilover19 @mimisparkle12

@littlefreaksatellite @vintagebitc @lexi-2004 @melllinaa @xcallmetaniax @brizzlessizzler @haroldpotterson @livinginaglasspalace @delicatekidpeanut @queenanababy

@drinkawinchester @sarahbutnot @salvatoremikaelson54 @furiouscopsherduniversity @marrigold-2002 @angeliquelunasstuff @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @daphnen21 @ietss @imanaforever @itsreynasworld @she-is-a-happy-girl @joeybandthings

@kateisintrouble @stvrdustalexx @fictionisjustbetter @whezzy223

@conradssupporterr @clubmeredith13 @fatduck45 @trampstampz @fangirl-kimora

@just-let-me-fangirl-in-peace @reenfluffmarshmallow @kaz-mf-brekker

@yazmunson @bookg1rl @hockey-lover86

@just-a-pink-lady @moo-b1tch

#tsitp series #tsitp x you #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fanfic #belly conklin #steven conklin x reader #steven conklin imagine #steven conklin tsitp #tsitp #prime video tsitp #prime video #Conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher

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elsweetheart · 2 years ago

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Hi angel!! I’m obsessed with your writing😭 Idk if you’re doing requests (pls disregard if not!) buuut if you are how do we think Ellie would display causal dominance? Like I feel like it’s such a given with Abby but I feel like with how protective Ellie is she would 100% be the same just maybe not as “direct” as Abby? Idk the thought had me giggling and kicking my feet🫶

hi luv yes ofc <3

ellie williams + casual dominance hcs

• first of all, ellie is incredibly protective. a lot of it shows through her body language, the way she’ll immediately stand infront of you when danger presents itself, or guide you around with her hand either on your waist or your lower back. if the two of you are walking to your next location with your group she’ll keep an eye on you even if she’s discussing the plan with someone else. if you wander off, she’ll wrap her hand around your arm and gently tug her back towards her. “jheez, man am i gonna have to leash you or something? stay where i can see you.” she demands in the softest voice she has before turning away and continuing to talk to whoever she was talking to before. it seems bossy, but it always makes a warm safe feeling blossom in your chest knowing she’s always watching out for you.

• she’s always gonna put you before herself. it’s a no brainer for her, as she feels like she has taken on a role as your protector. if you’re low on food, she’ll come and sit besides you placing the tin and spoon into your hand. “c’mon, eat up. you need energy.” if she can let you sleep just a little longer in the mornings, she will. if you’re cold, she’s taking off her jacket and putting it on you, standing in front of you and doing it up for you. “warmed it up for you.” she doesn’t let you fight her on any of this, and you know you won’t win against her word.

• i’d like to think of ellie as quite a soft dom because she’s such a secret softie simp. if she’s talking to you and she doesn’t feel like you’re focusing she’ll pull you in and kiss your cheeks before rubbing her thumb along them and ensuring you look at her. “heeey, i’m talking to you pretty girl.” she’ll coo before continuing.

• she hates when other people try to boss you about because uh, that’s her job. you’d be climbing up a wall to be a look out and she’d yank you back down by the back of your jacket with a questioning look. “where are you going?”

• “jesse told me i should—” you start to explain, brows furrowed. she knows you’d listen to just about anyone but she didn’t want you putting yourself in danger. “stay back inside like i told you. y’don’t have to listen to anyone else but me okay? where is he? i wanna talk to him.” and just like that she’s already storming off to lay into him.

• will quite literally kill anyone that crosses you 😬

• she makes sure you’re looking after yourself and helps you out with the small things. ellie likes to stay up and think / plan for a while at night time, but she’ll make sure you’re going to bed at a reasonable time every night. “excuse me, you need your beauty sleep. c’mon, i’ll even tuck you in. i know, i know, i’m the best girlfriend ever.” she jokes as she nudges you towards your shared bedroom. another common occurrence would be your shoe lace coming untied whilst you’re walking somewhere, and ellie doesn’t even stop what she’s saying to drop down and pull your foot up onto her knee when she notices so she can quickly tie it back up for you. when she’s done tying she’ll always pat your foot or leg before standing back up and guiding you to continue moving.

• never lets you do any heavy lifting. her and the others will be moving boxes or planks or something and you’ll come and stand by her and hold your arms out with a polite smile, waiting to be passed something. ellie will simply glance your way and shake her head as she continues telling you “you’ll hurt yourself, baby.” casually and quietly which gives you butterflies <33

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams fluff #dom!ellie #ellie williams drabble

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whimsyfinny · 9 months ago

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #enemies to lovers #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn

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