#today has been such a wonderful day so far! and yet…
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Bridging Realities
ℑ𝔙. 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤..... 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: unedited, slow burn, eventual smut/ spicy scenes, some angst but happy ending, playful banter
⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️
The morning sun streamed through the windows of the Featherington estate, casting a golden glow over the lively preparations for the day ahead. You were seated at your vanity, Varley fussing over your hair with more vigor than necessary, muttering about how even a race required proper presentation. You nodded absently, your mind far from the conversation—or even the impending event.
You were dressed already, the soft, pastel blue gown fitting you comfortably as you stood and moved toward the window. You still wonder how on earth you got port- mama, to agree to buy new dresses and with different colors this time, although you think it mostly has to do with the arrival of the new featherington lord and how it meant that they no longer needed to worry about money much.
The bustle of the household faded as you leaned against the frame, gazing out at the beautiful house across the street, in which you could swear you see movement in.
It should’ve been a simple day—a moment to enjoy the festivities, the thrill of the race, and the chatter of the crowd. And yet, the weight of your thoughts anchored you in place.
The question swirled relentlessly in your mind. What do you do next?
The story you knew so well—the love story of Kate and Anthony—was already beginning to take shape. You’d seen the tension between them last night, the sharp glances, the lingering stares. You knew the moments that were meant to happen next.
But at what cost? Edwina’s heartbreak? Anthony’s stubbornness that was the whole reason people got hurt in the first place? Was it even your place to intervene? A few days ago you didn’t even exist in this world, so how could you?
Your gaze drifted to the bright sky, searching for clarity. And yet, another thought began to creep in, unbidden but persistent.
What if you didn’t step aside?
What if you let yourself want something—long for someone—for once? Anthony Bridgerton wasn’t just a name on a page, or a face in a show anymore. He was a man, flesh and blood, with flaws and feelings. And you… you weren’t just a bystander that dreamed to be in a love story like his. Not anymore.
Your fingers tightened on the windowsill as your heart warred with itself. To let the story unfold as it always had or to take a leap into the unknown, to risk selfishness for the chance at something real.
And then again, maybe you were meant to change things? Why on earth would the universe transport you into the world you’ve always dreamed of if you weren’t meant to?
“Miss Y/N?” Varley’s voice broke through your reverie, startling you. “The carriage will be ready soon. We mustn’t keep the others waiting.”
You straightened, smoothing the fabric of your gown as you turned back to the room. “Of course, Varley,” you said, your tone steady even as your thoughts churned.
As you left the room, you resolved one thing: Today, at the races, you would make a choice. Whether to follow the script you knew so well or to write a story of your own.
“Why did I have to accompany you?” you asked as you walked behind Penelope as she entered the drawing room of the Bridgerton house
She ignored your words, approaching Eloise from behind “Is that a copy of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope asked
“It is” Eloise answered, putting down the paper
“I thought we were done with her” Penelope said
“Do not discourage her, Penelope” Lady Bridgerton said “If she has taken an interest in Lady Whistledown again, perhaps it means she’s interested in what she has to say about the season’s available gentlemen too” She turned towards her daughter
You chuckled, swallowing down your nerves as you approached her mother “If Eloise has anything to say about it, Lady Bridgerton, then no” You said
“See, even Y/n gets me” Eloise huffed, turning to face Penelope
You smiled, looking at what you hope will be your future mother in law “Lady Bridgerton,” you greeted
She stopped her embroidery, looking up at you with a smile “Y/n, dear, it has been a long time since you’ve visited” Violet said
You blinked before you realized that perhaps you had or well, the past Y/n Featherington had visited the Bridgerton home before with Penelope.
“Yes, it has been” you nodded before sitting on the chair next to her “artist Bridgerton brother,” you greeted Benedict with a smile
He chuckled “still calling me by that, poet Featherington sister?” He teased back
You looked at him lost “Poet?” you said confused
“yeah,” he brought down his sketchbook “Don’t you remember when you recited on and on about the color of Anthony’s hair, his mesmerizing eyes?”
What?
“Oh, yes, I remember that as well” Lady Bridgerton chuckled “It was sweet seeing how enamored you were with Anthony when you were little, of course, it never went far as you were only three and ten years old when you decided you wanted to marry Anthony and he was well off into adulthood”
Your face froze as Lady Beidgerton’s words sank in, your heart skipping a beat. What?! You laughed nervously, trying to mask your shock. “I—well, I suppose teenage girls are prone to fanciful ideas, are they not?”
“Fanciful indeed,” Violet said, smiling warmly. “Though, I must admit, it was endearing. You followed him about during those visits, asking the most peculiar questions about the responsibilities of a viscount. You were so earnest, poor Anthony didn’t know what to do with you!”
Benedict smirked. “Oh, he certainly knew what to do—run off to the study and hide.”
“Benedict!” Violet scolded lightly, though her tone was still amused.
You felt your cheeks heat, and for a moment, you were lost for words. Of course, the past you would have been a lovestruck teenager, completely unaware of what that might mean for your interactions now.
You cleared your throat, your mind racing as you tried to compose yourself. “I assure you, I’ve outgrown such girlish infatuations. Besides, Anthony and I have hardly spoken more than a few words to each other recently.”
“Oh, but that could change,” Violet said, her tone light but laden with meaning. “Anthony needs a steady hand, someone with wit and charm to keep him grounded.”
Benedict leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow at you knowingly. “And who better to manage his chaos than someone who once planned her entire future around him?”
You shot him a pointed look, though your lips twitched upward in a small, reluctant smile. “I believe we’re getting far ahead of ourselves.”
“Perhaps,” Violet said with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, “but it’s always nice to see old friends rekindle a connection.”
Your heart thudded in your chest, the weight of their playful remarks mingling with your own uncertainty. You had come here prepared to make a choice, but now it seemed as though fate—or the Bridgertons—was nudging you toward one particular path.
“I believe we were never friends, Lady Bridgerton, it was just a childish infatuation on my part,” you say “I believe Anthony has his eyes set elsewhere right now”
Violet raised an eyebrow at your comment, her expression thoughtful. “Perhaps, but you’d be surprised how easily one’s eyes can be redirected when the right person is in view.”
Benedict chuckled, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Oh, this is far more entertaining than I anticipated. Please, do carry on.”
You rolled your eyes, though your heart was beating faster than ever. “I assure you, Benedict, there is nothing to carry on about. Anthony and I barely speak, and whatever childish notions I had are long gone.”
“C-colin!” you heard Penelope exclaim, You stood up as the rest of the bridgertons embraced the newly arrived Colin, watching with a smile as they greeted him
“And where, may I ask, is our intrepid viscount?” Colin asked looking around his family
“He is-“ Anthony stepped into view as Lady Bridgerton spoke “back from courting already”
“Colin, you are back, even better” Anthony said as he saw Colin “Family, I would like you all to-“ his eyes met yours, making him go silent
“Y/n…” he spoke “i-I did not know you were here”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, Anthony cleared his throat, his eyes leaving yours “i-I would like you all to ready yourselves for the races today, we will be attending united as one” He finished saying to his family
You stayed next to him as his family went off to get ready “I’ll be there in a bit” you say to Pen as she looked at you expecting to leave, she nodded before she left the room
Your eyes flickered back towards Anthony, finding him looking at you, you smirked “You’ll escort me to the races, won’t you?” you say boldly, having decided to not step aside and instead make your own choices.
Anthony’s eyebrows furrowed at your boldness, his usual composed demeanor slipping ever so slightly. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly weighing his response.
For a moment, the silence between you stretched thin, and you could see the flicker of hesitation in his dark eyes. His gaze shifted briefly toward the door, as though calculating his options.
“I… had intended to accompany my family today as a united front,” he said carefully, his voice measured. “There are certain… expectations that must be upheld.”
You raised an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Expectations?” you repeated. “Anthony, are you saying that escorting me would somehow disrupt your plans?”
His jaw tightened, and he glanced away, his reluctance palpable. “Not disrupt,” he clarified, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. “It’s simply that…” He trailed off, clearly unwilling to elaborate.
Ah. So this was about Edwina. You felt the pieces fall into place with startling clarity. Kate’s refusal to let him court her sister must have spurred Anthony into finding another way to gain the Sharma family’s favor—an approach steeped in duty and strategy, as expected of a viscount.
But you weren’t about to make it easy for him. Especially not after what you had decided and you’d be damned if you were losing without a fight.
“Anthony,” you said, stepping closer so that he couldn’t avoid your gaze. “If your goal is to show yourself as a responsible, family-oriented man, what better way than to escort an old family friend?” You let your tone turn teasing, though your eyes stayed sharp.
His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, you thought he might refuse outright. Then, with a soft sigh, he turned back to you. “You do have a way of making things sound entirely reasonable,” he admitted, though his tone lacked its usual confidence.
You smiled triumphantly, slipping your hand into the crook of his arm. “Then it’s settled,” you said brightly. “We’ll make quite the impression, won’t we?”
He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flickering briefly toward the door again, as though still calculating his options. But then, he nodded, his movements stiff but resigned. “It would seem so,” he said finally.
As you walked together toward the carriages, you could feel the weight of his hesitation lingering between you. Anthony Bridgerton was a man bound by duty and logic, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface—a conflict he hadn’t yet resolved.
But that was fine. You weren’t looking for perfection. You were looking for an opportunity to remind him that life didn’t always need to be dictated by duty and expectations. If you were rewriting this story, you weren’t afraid to challenge the characters along the way.
Even if one of those characters was the man you’d been dreaming of for years.
You smiled, satisfied with his answer—for now. Today was only the beginning, after all. If you were going to rewrite the story, you intended to do so on your own terms. And Anthony Bridgerton? Well, he would simply have to keep up.
You looked around the field filled with people with a smile, the sound of horses galloping resounding nearby. Your eyes searched for any familiar face nearby but hard to see with so many people around.
You turned back to look at the man beside you, his eyes searching as well. You held back a scoff as you knew why, “Whatever plan you had for today, it would have only ended up hurting people” You stated, looking back at the field.
Anthony turned to look at you, your arm intertwined between his “What do you mean?” he feigned innocence
You looked at him once again “You mean to tell me you didn’t plan on elaborating a grand scheme so the eldest Sharma would leave you alone with Miss Edwina?”
Anthony’s gaze narrowed slightly, though there was no malice in it. “And what, pray tell, do you think I’m planning?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” you said, glancing toward the arriving carriages. “You intend to use today to make a grand show of your family’s unity and charm, all to prove to the Sharmas that you’re the perfect match for Edwina. Am I close?” You didn’t want to mention his plan to get Thomas Dorset to woo Kate.
His silence was answer enough.
You sighed, releasing his arm as you turned to face him fully. “Anthony, I know you mean well, but this… performance? It’s not going to end the way you hope it will.”
He frowned, his jaw tightening. “And why is that?”
“Because you’re not being honest with yourself,” you said simply. “About what you want.”
His expression darkened, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “I am entirely aware of what I want,” he said stiffly.
“Are you?” you challenged, stepping closer. “Because it seems to me you’re more concerned with what you think you should want. There’s a difference, Anthony, and if you don’t figure it out soon, you’re going to hurt a lot of people—including yourself.”
The words hung heavy in the air between you, his gaze locked on yours as if trying to decipher your meaning. For a moment, you thought he might push you away, dismiss you like he did everyone who dared to question him.
But then he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You make it sound so simple,” he said quietly.
“It’s not,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “But it’s worth it.”
Anthony’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between you. Then, with a subtle nod, he extended his arm to you once more. “Shall we?”
You smiled, slipping your arm back into his. “Lead the way, Lord Bridgerton.”
As you walked toward the crowd, the weight of your words seemed to settle on him, though he said nothing more. But you could feel it in the way he held himself, in the quiet moments of hesitation that punctuated his otherwise confident demeanor.
“You should let things flow the way they’re supposed to,” you pat his arm “If there are things impeding you to court Miss Edwina…..perhaps you should give up” you say selfishly
Anthony glanced at you, his brows knitting together as he processed your words. “Give up?” he repeated, his tone skeptical. “You would have me surrender so easily?”
You met his gaze steadily, though your heart raced at your boldness. “Not easily, Anthony. But if you’re only pursuing her because you think it’s the right thing to do, rather than what you truly want, then yes. Why waste your time—and hers—on something that isn’t real?”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d pushed too far. But then he sighed, the tension in his features softening ever so slightly. “You speak as though you know my heart better than I do.”
“Perhaps I do,” you said, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Or perhaps I just see things more clearly because I’m not the one caught in the middle of it.”
Anthony didn’t respond immediately, his gaze drifting to the lively crowd ahead of you. The sounds of laughter, conversation, and the occasional cheer for a victorious horse filled the air. You could see his family mingling in the distance, their bright smiles a sharp contrast to the weight of the conversation between you.
“And what about you?” he asked finally, his voice quieter now. “You speak of honesty, yet you remain shrouded in mystery. What is it that you truly want?”
The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you faltered. How could you explain the tangled web of emotions and desires that had brought you to this point? How could you tell him that you weren’t just another Featherington, but someone who had seen his story unfold in ways he couldn’t possibly understand?
“I…” You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the ground. “I want to live a life that feels real. Not one dictated by expectations or duty, but one where I can make my own choices. Isn’t that what everyone wants?”
Anthony studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint smile, he shook his head. “You’re a peculiar woman, Y/N Featherington.”
You laughed softly, the sound tinged with relief. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” You looked at him “Besides…. I’m already fighting for what I want” there was something unreadable in your eyes as you looked at him
Anthony’s smile faltered ever so slightly as your words hung in the air, their weight settling between you like an unspoken challenge. His dark eyes flickered over your face, searching for something—clarity, perhaps, or reassurance—but all he found was a quiet determination that seemed to unnerve him.
“Fighting for what you want?” he repeated, his voice careful, measured. “And what is it, exactly, that you want, Miss Featherington?”
You tilted your head slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk gracing your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The teasing lilt in your voice did little to ease the tension that had crept into the conversation. Anthony’s hand shifted subtly where it rested on yours, as though he were considering letting go. His usual air of control seemed to waver, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something unfamiliar in his expression—unease, perhaps, or uncertainty.
“Miss Featherington,” he began, his tone carrying the weight of a man accustomed to steering conversations in his favor, “it is not often I find myself at a loss for words, but you seem intent on ensuring I remain so today.”
You chuckled softly, though your gaze remained steady on his. “Perhaps that’s because you’re not used to being challenged, my lord.”
Anthony’s brows furrowed, and he looked away briefly, his gaze scanning the crowd as if seeking an escape. When he looked back at you, his composure was intact once more, though there was a faint crease in his brow that betrayed his lingering nervousness.
“You speak with remarkable confidence,” he said, his voice cooler now, as though attempting to regain the upper hand. “But confidence can be a dangerous thing when wielded carelessly.”
“Only to those unprepared to face it,” you countered smoothly, the edge in your tone softened by a smile. “But don’t worry, Lord Bridgerton. I have no intention of unsettling you—too much, at least.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze dropping briefly to the ground before meeting yours again. “You have an uncanny ability to make a man question himself,” he admitted, his voice low. “I wonder if that is your intention.”
You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “And if it were?”
Anthony’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions neither of you dared to name. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh.
“Then I suppose I must brace myself,” he said, his tone laced with reluctant amusement.
You smiled, your grip on his arm tightening ever so slightly. “Good. You’ll need it.” You say “Just like you’ll need it when I say that High Flyer will be the winner today and the horse you bet on, Nectar, will not” you smirk
Anthony stopped in his tracks, turning his head to look at you with an expression of mild disbelief. His brows arched, and for a moment, his usual composed demeanor gave way to something closer to exasperation.
“You’re challenging my judgment on horses now?” he asked, his tone laced with incredulity.
“Perhaps,” you replied breezily, your smirk widening. “High Flyer has a higher chance to win, the track is soft and hot thus Nectar will have a great disadvantage as he’s not as swifter and lighter as High Flyer. A rather unfortunate trait for a racehorse, wouldn’t you agree?” you use your knowledge of this episode
Anthony blinked at you, his lips parting slightly as he processed your words. “You’ve been studying the horses?”
“Is that so surprising?” you teased, tilting your head. “I’m merely preparing for the inevitable moment when you’ll have to admit I was right.”
His gaze narrowed, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes now. “You’re rather confident for someone who has yet to see the race.”
“Confidence, as you’ve pointed out, can be a dangerous thing,” you said, echoing his earlier words with a mischievous glint in your eye. “But I’m willing to take my chances.”
Anthony shook his head, though he couldn’t entirely suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Very well, Miss Featherington. If you’re so certain of your prediction, perhaps we should make this more interesting.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Are you proposing a wager, Lord Bridgerton?”
“I am,” he said, his voice gaining a touch of his usual commanding confidence. “If High Flyer wins, I will publicly admit my error—and you may choose a forfeit for me, within reason.”
“And if Nectar wins?” you asked, folding your arms as you regarded him with playful suspicion.
He looked in thought for a minute “Then you will meet me tomorrow morning when you come to my home with your sister” he said smoothly, his gaze steady on yours. “Just the two of us. No Penelope. No excuses.”
The boldness of his proposal took you by surprise, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words, feeling your breath catch in your throat. But then you smiled, the thrill of the challenge sparking in your chest.
“Very well, Lord Bridgerton,” you said, extending your hand to him. “You have yourself a wager.”
He clasped your hand, his grip firm and warm. “Then may the best horse—and the best gambler—win.”
As the two of you continued toward the racetrack, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration. This wasn’t just a wager; it was a game, a dance, a challenge—and neither of you intended to back down.
“You were saying?” you turned to look at the viscount smug as High Flyer won first place in the race
Anthony’s expression was unreadable at first, his gaze fixed on the racetrack where High Flyer had just thundered across the finish line. The crowd erupted into cheers, but the Viscount’s focus remained solely on you.
“I believe I was saying something about confidence,” he murmured, though there was a faint edge of resignation in his voice. His eyes flicked back to yours, narrowing slightly at the smug smile that curved your lips.
“You were,” you said, tilting your head. “Something about it being dangerous, wasn’t it? It seems my confidence wasn’t misplaced after all.”
Anthony exhaled sharply, though you couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or a sigh of defeat. “It seems not,” he conceded, his tone reluctant. “I suppose I owe you my public admission of error.”
“Oh, there’s no need for dramatics, my lord,” you said, feigning modesty. “A simple acknowledgment that I was right will suffice.”
He arched a brow, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he were fighting a smile. “Very well,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “Miss Featherington, you were right. High Flyer was indeed the better horse today.”
Your grin widened, your victory made all the sweeter by his reluctant but good-natured capitulation. “Thank you, Lord Bridgerton. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
He stepped closer, his voice lowering so that only you could hear. “You’re enjoying this far too much,” he said, his tone teasing yet laced with something deeper, something that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Perhaps,” you replied, meeting his gaze with a glint of mischief. “But don’t forget—this means you’ll have to endure my chosen forfeit.”
Anthony’s smile finally broke free, a rare and genuine thing that made your heart skip a beat. “I haven’t forgotten,” he said. “And I’ll face it with as much grace as I can muster.”
The two of you stood there for a moment, the lively crowd around you fading into the background. There was a spark between you, unspoken but undeniable, a sense that this was more than just a game.
“Well then,” you said, breaking the spell. “I look forward to seeing how well you handle it, my lord.”
Anthony chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. “And I, Miss Featherington, look forward to our morning meeting—when Nectar’s loss will no longer matter.”
His words left you breathless, your retort caught in your throat as he offered you his arm once more. “Uh, you lost, how is the meeting still in place when I won?” you asked
Anthony smirked, his expression that of a man who had been waiting for this exact question. “Ah,” he said, his tone deceptively casual, “but the terms of our wager never explicitly stated that the meeting would be void if High Flyer won. I simply said I would admit my error. And I did.”
Your eyes narrowed, your hand tightening slightly on his arm. “That’s not how wagers work, Lord Bridgerton,” you countered, though there was a flicker of amusement in your tone. “You can’t twist the terms to suit your convenience.”
“Twisting?” he echoed, his smirk growing. “Not at all. I am merely exercising the same cleverness you demonstrated in predicting the race. Surely, you wouldn’t begrudge me that?”
“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though the corners of your mouth betrayed the urge to smile.
“And yet, you’re still here,” he replied smoothly, his gaze flicking to yours with a glint of challenge.
You let out a soft huff, trying to suppress the fluttering sensation in your chest. “Fine,” you relented. “But don’t think this means I’m letting you off the hook for losing.”
Anthony chuckled, his voice low and warm. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Featherington. I’ll accept whatever forfeit you impose. But I do hope you’ll keep it… reasonable.”
“I’ll think about it,” you said with mock seriousness, pretending to consider all the humiliating possibilities.
As you walked together, the playful banter between you was laced with an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken yet impossible to ignore. You might have won the wager, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Anthony had been the winner in the end.
⏮️ ⏸️ ⏭️
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#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton imagine#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#hyacinth bridgerton#violet bridgerton#daphne basset#kate sharma#edwina sharma#lady mary sharma#lady danbury
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Why am I sad. What’s making me sad. What happened that triggered The Big Sad.
#today has been such a wonderful day so far! and yet…#WHY AM I SAD#FUCK YOU DEPRESSION JUST LET ME ENJOY THIS
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It really is such a great time to be a DC fan rn like there's so many books and upcoming runs that I'm looking forward to that it's completely reinvigorated me lol
#been thinking about absolute ww all day today like this run is gonna be generational#and absolute batman was also. really really good. one of the best issues to release this year#also ga getting a new creative team is such great news and everything we've learned so far abt it feels super exciting#not to mention batcass is back in 2 weeks!!! i honestly still cant believe it lmao#and bop has remained really solid for its entire run tbh. but with babs on oracle again feels like such a return to form in the best way#also the jlu lineup looks super fun!! excited for that one#was never a big nightwing enjoyer but from what ive seen his book is finally. well. good again so congrats guys#and although i havent bought any yet since the only ones at my lcb ive read already#but the compact comics line is such a wonderful idea im almost shocked#nearly every creative decision dc has done recently has in some way been a considerable step forward for their comics#it makes me really happy and i hope they keep this up#also can the black canary series please not be ass please
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I don't know why I was thinking about this again but I was/am. Maybe it's because my cousin brought this fact up the other day again. (Our dads are brothers, hers the youngest and mine the second oldest by about 7 years to her dad; just some context for the explanation.)
Anyways, my dad grew up on a farm in the mid to late 60's and during the 70's, rural Saskatchewan, closer to the US border than where we live now, he grew up in a house that didn't have running water. He didn't have indoor plumbing until his family moved into town when he was a teenager.
I think it's so easy to forget here in a first world country just how recent power and indoor plumbing actually is. That it hasn't been as universally available even here for a hundred years.
It's easy to forget with how quickly the world changes, that some of our daily conveniences are so new to the world. Our way of life is so different from what it used to be, though as the saying goes as much as people change we stay the same.
#I just think it's so interesting that we've gone from a time where my parents who are nearing 60 but aren't quite there yet#grew up with rural places still not having power and water in some cases#where getting a coloured tv was still a huge technical upgrade that my parents have memories of#to today where we almost all have a portable computer in our pockets#we know the news from across the world faster than we ever heard before#so often my parents and I debate/wonder if weather is actually more extreme and happening more frequently#or if we're just hearing and being more aware of it because of social media and how fast everything spreads these days in a more personalway#just like crimes and murder#sometimes I really wonder if there IS more of it or if we just HEAR more of it because of the way our world works now#again like how fast we get news and social media#and I know we have a larger population in the world now but I think crime has only changes portionally to said population growth#there's probably always been serial killers and messed up people doing messed up things#they just might have been able to hide easier and get away with more because we didn't have the tech we have now to solve cases#and even then we can still get things wrong because there's always the possibility of human erroe#anyways this is starting to stray extremely far from what my original point was even if this is still semi related
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STRAWBERRY LOLLY
PAIRING shy nerd!sunghoon x confident fem!reader | wc: 1.5k
WARNINGS vague smut, miniskirt agenda (duh), sunghoon is a perv and he got it bad, dom!sunghoon
However, one aspect that stands out on this particular day is the sugary rock between the lips he loves so much. God, Sunghoon practically busts at the sight.
NOTES hi first post kinda nervy
PARK SUNGHOON has the hots for you.
It has only been a few months since he’s known of you. And it’s not enough time to build the courage to approach you.
What can he say?
You look unfathomable. Something so unreachable. Especially for someone like him.
He sits far across the room as the professor rambles on, stealing glances, wondering if you’ll notice him one day. It was hard to keep his mind at bay, to prevent walking up to you. He knew that he would ramble and mess it all up. Or stutter while attempting to acquaint himself with you.
He realized that admiring from afar was the best solution to the issue at hand. And it proved to be a good one.
That is, until it became unbearable. More specifically, sinful. And today is one where it seems God is testing him.
You return to the classroom and Sunghoon automatically straightens his posture– his doodling on the notebook gone astray.
You’re sporting the same mini skirt he loves so much and those legs are perfectly on display for everyone to see. It’s definitely not because they’re so short your panties practically peek out without having to look under.
He doesn’t know how you do it. How you claim attention to any room you walk in. Heads automatically turn in your direction the second you step foot into it. But you play dumb, acting as if the people in the room don’t automatically moan at the sight of you.
And whether it’s the perfect posture or the pearly smile you showcase, you’re far out of reach for the quiet, stereotypical glasses-wearing nerd, whose favorite class is calculus. And it’s most definitely because you’re in this class too.
However, one aspect that stands out on this particular day is the sugary rock between the lips he loves so much.
God, Sunghoon practically busts at the sight.
The glassy ball between your lips that you occasionally run your tongue along has him losing all composure. You’re innocently conversing with your classmate beside you, innocently grazing the tip of the red lollipop against your bottom lip, and innocently putting it back into your mouth in one motion. Your cheeks hollow, and he salivates at you sucking on the sticky candy. He knows he’s far away, yet believes his eyesight couldn’t be any clearer.
His leg starts to mindlessly shake once scenarios run wild, and one point he makes clear to himself is that the flavor is strawberry. It fits you perfectly, he thinks. The strawberry lollipop tints your lips a fitting scarlet shade, the gloss resembling honey as you continue to edge him beyond belief with the repetition of your ministrations.
But as he continues to gawk from across the room, your orbs shoot directly into his.
It’s so sudden that he moves to deter from your glare at all costs and reverts back to random doodling. Sweat dribbles down alongside his temple because your sharp eyes contain purpose behind them, and he prays that the purpose isn’t him.
You’re definitely going to call him out for being a creep if anything.
But a tap on his shoulder forces him to address the siren in heels behind him, and as he turns, Sunghoon can hardly meet your inviting eyes.
And just like taking a breath, your syrupy voice addresses him for the first time. He wonders if you feel an ounce of what he’s feeling at the moment.
Surely not, because you act as if you’ve known him your whole life.
“Hey Hoonie, can I talk to you for a second?” you infer with your hands pressed against the edge of his desk. And it’s proving impossible to look straight into your eyes, even more at your tits pressed together, spilling out of your top.
“Shoot,” he mentally applauses himself for a collective response.
“I need a tutor,” you frown, and all he thinks about is how your face would look when you cum.
“I’m on the verge of failing, and I know you’re about to check off a hundred percent in the class.”
“Yeah o-of course. I have to make sure my schedule’s open first.”
“Great! My place or your place?” you bat your lashes innocently.
Sunghoon swears if you do one more thing, he’ll cum in his pants right then and there. There’s not much more he can take. “Anywhere is fine. I gotta go though. We can discuss the details in class tomorrow.”
You’re giggling at his shyness, quick to follow his scurrying around the desk. “Or we can keep talking since I like talking to you so much.”
You’ve got him staring like a deer in headlights, “You do?”
“Do you?” you inquire while also wondering when he’ll drop the shy act.
An opportunity like this most likely won’t ever happen again. And the countless times Jake has called him a pussy for not shooting his shot only motivates him that much more. “Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?”
“Maybe because I enjoy hearing answers I like,” you raise a brow at his sudden confidence, but your interest is showcased through the closing proximity between the two of you with each word that escapes your throat.
Sunghoon notices the glint of surprise in your eyes when you realize he wasn’t going to cower backwards.
His thoughts, on the other hand, were the complete opposite of his cowardly actions. In fact, he wonders how’d you react if he kissed you until your lips were bruised. Or if you liked it if he wrapped his entire hand full of your hair and tugged ‘til his heart’s content.
But in the end, your answer has him speechless, and you fully grin at that. “Let me know the answer to mine when you get the chance.”
You’re turning around to leave the shaky boy alone, but something catches your wrist.
“Tomorrow. Eight p.m., my place,” he’s breathing pattern quickens and he thickly gulps as he awaits your response.
And you giggle at his eagerness. “Can’t wait.”
And that’s how you ended up at his place the following night. Sunghoon had successfully helped complete a total of five questions before your hand slithered up his thigh and the subject of derivatives flew out the window.
To be honest, he doesn’t care he gave in so fast.
He’s so easy. So easy for you.
And you knew that. You took advantage of how he averted your gaze at all costs, yet you could still feel the heat of his stare when you looked away. Usually preferring men who are more dominant and masculine in and out of the bedroom, you took this as a challenge to stray out of your comfort zone.
You couldn’t lie though, Sunghoon’s awkward mannerisms are awfully cute. A bonus was he wasn’t hard on the eyes either. Your friends often scolded you for wanting to pursue him, but you ignored their incessant warnings.
And when you made due of your promise, you were surprised at how he was able to get a few words out.
What was even more surprising was the night that followed.
“Fuck—mnph!” your moans are muffled into the pillow as Sunghoon plows into your sopping cunt from behind. His palm envelops the entirety of your nape, pushing your head harder with each thrust. Your entire spine buzzes with pleasure, and his fingers digging into your neck only heighten the feeling.
“This is for underestimating me,” he seethes. You wish you were facing him to see his darkened persona.
“I w-w,” you barely get out.
“You what?” his hoarse voice mixes with a groan at your velvety walls sucking him like a vice.
“I-I wish I c-could take a pict-ture,” Sunghoon’s fingers press deeper with each word that escapes your throat, and you giggle. You’d never imagine the loser in class could get you pussy drunk.
“Go ahead,” he seethes before pulling out and flipping you over to your back.
“Wha-” you can’t even finish the word before he’s roughly thrusting into your pussy in one motion and continuing with the same pace.
“Hoon! Fuck,” you’re under his spell while the bed frame rhythmically knocks against the wall.
“I should take a picture of you like this,” he turns your slack jaw so you are able to look at him.
He chuckles once his eyes make contact with your hooded ones. “With drool and tears decorating your face while I use you as a cock-sleeve.”
Your fists ball as the drag of his cock overwhelms you. “So full,” you moan, and he rewards your comment with another harsh snap of his hips.
“Remember,” Sunghoon sets your calves against his shoulder and leans down against your ear. It feels unworldly, his cock pushing deeper and rougher into your cervix.
“Remember who makes you feel this way,” he whispers.
#enhypen smut#enhypen#sunghoon#park sunghoon#sunghoon park#enha#enha x reader#enha imagines#enha smut#park sunghoon smut#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x y/n#enha sunghoon#enha park sunghoon#enha sunghoon smut
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Ateez Reaction ღ Asking them to teach you how to fuck [M]
ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut reaction (best friend!Ateez x inexperienced reader), (implied) friends to fwb/friends to lovers in one part ღ warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption
Author’s note: This is definitely not what I had planned to write today but oh well :’) I hope you guys enjoy~
Edit: This is labelled as having a fem-bodied!reader, but Yeosang's, San's, Mingi's and Jongho's parts also work with a gn!reader (I changed the wording slightly for two of those parts to make them gn, cause the original versions weren't very far away from that) - Yunho's part is technically gn too, but i think one line of it makes no sense if reader is imagined to be male bodied!
Hongjoong:
when one day you somewhat shyly ask him if he would teach you how to please a guy he’s definitely surprised
but it’s also not like he sees a problem with friends hooking up? i mean - y’all know each other well and trust each other, so having sex shouldn’t be an issue
teaches you everything you wanted to know and then some more, until suddenly you can barely even remember that other guy who made you feel like you needed to practice so much anymore
he’ll be gentle with you, seeing how you don’t have much experience yet, and somehow he’ll end up pleasuring you first to help you relax
only when you’re about to cum on his fingers does he stop for a second to consider whether it’s really okay to go this far with you
but you’re enjoying yourself, and now you’re whining for him to keep going, so that’s what he does
makes you cum and then lets you rest for a bit, before he starts guiding your hands down his body
praises you for everything you do and gently nudges you in the right direction, until you have him cumming into your fist - but he won’t stop there
there’s just something insanely hot to him about having full control over what you do to him as he gives you instructions, and this is definitely also awakening some kind of corruption kink deep inside him
eventually you end up on top of him as he guides you down his cock and into a steady rhythm, having you ride him
and of course this becomes a regular thing between the two of you, both keeping up the pretense that you’re still just “practicing”, when really there’s a carnal need growing inside both of you that makes you always come back to each other for more
Seonghwa:
the first time you bring it up to him that you’ve been wondering if he could help you practice having sex he feels conflicted to say the least
of course he wants to help you!! but this is about having sex with one of his best friends, and he doesn’t know if he wants to cross that line with you
but at the same time it’s also apparent that your question is affecting him when you can see his ears turn red, and eventually he has to get out of there for a second to get himself a glass of water sakdfjlks
“So is that a yes?” you ask him when he comes back, and he almost spits the water back out aksdljfkjsd
“I-I’ll have to think about it, Y/N…” he somehow manages to stutter, before he forcibly changes topic
he needs a few days to calm down about this, but once some time has passed he figures it’s probably not a big issue if he helped you out a bit, right?
you agree on a few rules like no kissing, no actual intercourse, but he’s willing to let you touch him otherwise
and so you decide to start slow, with a simple handjob, and he actually finds himself enjoying the way he can tell you what to do, gently push you in the right direction, plus the sight of having your hands wrapped around his cock just does something very sinful to him - so it’s no surprise that you don’t have any trouble making him cum
but now he feels the need to pay you back, and so you let him finger you, and his skillful touches throw you over the edge in no time
you do this a few times, until eventually you find yourselves growing more needy, and you end up sucking him off while he eats you out, quietly turning it into a game of who can make the other cum faster in your mind
needless to say, now that you started casually hooking up you won’t be stopping anytime soon
Yunho:
he is SOSO flustered when you first ask him about whether he could teach you a bit about sex the first time and immediately says no aksjdklfsk
“Y/N, we’re just friends… shouldn’t you do that with an actual boyfriend?”
but you insist, admitting that you feel embarrassed about how inexperienced you are, and of course this guy reassures you that you’re fine the way you are, and once the right guy comes along he will surely be understanding with you
and as much as you want to believe his words, your insecurities prevail, until eventually you find an agreement that you can at least come ask him about stuff if you feel unsure about something so he could give you a verbal explanation
and you take him up on that offer pretty soon, simply because you’re curious kasjflkasdj
so when one day you ask him out of the blue whether guys prefer getting handjobs or blowjobs he’s a blushing mess first of all
“W-well, it depends on the guy…?” - so you ask him what he prefers and now he’s visibly uncomfortable
but he figures you’re just curious, so he tells you about how both is nice, it really depends on his mood, but he probably prefers a simple handjob most of the time
he loosens up a bit eventually, and as you continue talking about the topic and you ask him all kinds of questions, neither of you can deny that it’s affecting you
except nothing really happens afterwards, because you know he wouldn’t want to overstep that boundary
it’s only until a little later, when you’re both drunk at a party and he suddenly pulls you aside to tell you that he hasn’t been able to think about anything but what it would be like to have sex with you
and well, you pressing your body up against his does nothing to deflate that situation, and so you disappear in the nearest room where it’s just the two of you, and in no time clothes are flying off and your hands are all over each other
but despite the desperation that the both of you are feeling, he’s still careful with you, taking the lead as you spend the rest of the night fucking in that room
Yeosang:
he has no idea how to react when you ask him to teach you how to fuck, so it’s just awkward silence for a few moments
until he offers to treat you to a few hours with a sex worker instead ksajdflkjs
and well, that’s not exactly what you had in mind, because the point of you asking him was that he’s someone who’s known you for a long time and who knows you well
“Ahhh, I see… then sorry that I can’t be who you want me to be, but no.” (why does he have to say it so dramatically fksdjkfas)
you’re of course a bit disappointed, but it’s not like you don’t understand him - not everyone would want to cross that line with a friend - so you leave it at that for now
until one evening you’re together at your place, and you can tell something’s off about him - he seems fidgety and like he’s anxious about something, so eventually you decide to ask what’s up
and he doesn’t really want to give you an answer at first, but eventually he manages to force out an explanation
“Just… what you said to me a few days ago… I thought about it again… and maybe we can try it after all?” - you two talk a lot so it takes you a while to understand what he’s hinting at, but once you do, you’re immediately by his side
you reach for his hand as you’re sitting side by side, and somehow both your nerves are making it hard to do anything
“S-so… how do we start? Do we kiss?” he asks, and you agree that that might be a good idea, and weirdly enough as soon as your lips meet his and you fall into an unhurried pace, both your anxieties seem to be washed away
you get into his lap, and somehow you both just end up following your instincts, only breaking the kiss to tell each other what feels good, and then eventually in order to moan at the way you dry humping him is about to get the both of you off
you’re taking this very slow, but it becomes a regular thing for you to meet up in order to have sex from then on, both exploring and learning about each other’s body as you go
San:
another one who feels very conflicted the first time you bring it up to him
he doesn’t think mere friends should be doing this kind of thing with each other, but at the same time he can’t say he isn’t tempted
he says no at first, but the days after he just can’t stop thinking about you naked, on top of him, underneath him, you name it
until these thoughts start to haunt him in his dreams too, and he knows he can’t possibly be normal around you anymore if he doesn’t do anything about this
so he decides to help you out after all, under the premise that you won’t have any actual intercourse
instead, he teaches you how he likes to be touched with hands only, and eventually he also lets you suck him off
tells you exactly what to do that would drive any guy insane, gives you advice in between moans and at some point he will start rambling, until his high is coming so close that his train of thought just cuts off
and once he sees the state he put you in after cumming in your mouth - your glazed over eyes, his seed dripping down your lips before you lick it all up and swallow - he just can’t help himself anymore
“Shit, Y/N, let me fuck you, please,” he mutters, desperation in his voice
and as soon as you give him the okay this guy will be all over you, being rougher than you’d have expected him to be, fucking you as he’s led only by his instincts and his need to feel the warmth of being inside you
Mingi:
he’s another one who isn’t opposed to having sex with a good friend
actually, he feels a weird sense of relief when you ask him if you could practice with him, because he feels very comfortable with you and so he knows he too will be able to let go quickly
you start slow anyway, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you - seeing how you don’t have much experience yet - and so he’s even more surprised when you reach for his dick pretty quickly
you ask if what you’re doing is good, and as you’re giving him a few strokes this guy is hard in no time
will put his hand onto yours to guide you into the pace he likes, but very soon he’ll simply leave it up to you, wanting to know exactly what you would do to him if he doesn’t interfere
and soon enough his sanity will start to slip away, and when he starts bucking his hips into your hand the dynamic shifts ever so slightly, because suddenly you don’t seem so inexperienced anymore at all as you dare to tease him about how needy he is
lets you make him cum onto his stomach, before you call it quits for the day, but you’ll be sure to come back for more soon
he’ll let you get him off in all kinds of ways, until eventually you two start experimenting with anything and everything you’re curious about, all under the premise of “practice”
and soon he too will feel the need to return the favour and get you off too, learning all about how your body reacts to his touch, and figuring out together what feels best for you
you’re gonna spend whole weekends at his place just fucking, and in no time you basically know each other’s bodies like the back of your own hand
and it’s more than likely that in the process this guy actually falls in love with you, and even though it’s still a whiiiile until he actually finds the courage to tell you that, he will make damn sure you won’t even think about wandering off to someone else
“You’re mine, Y/N,” - the words will repeatedly slip past his lips as he’s fucking you, and surely enough they do something to you too
Wooyoung:
you two tend to be very touchy to begin with - even though you’re definitely not in love he gives you kisses on the cheeks or your neck all the time, and when you’re having a sleepover you can be sure it will include a good amount of cuddling
so when one day he’s spooning you, focused on drawing random patterns on the skin on your arm, and you tell him that you’ve been thinking whether he would be okay with showing you how to properly please a guy he isn’t put off by the idea at all - though he is a little surprised, both because he was of the impression you had a lot more experience than you do, and because he didn’t think you’d ever consider him the right person to come to with a favour like this (like????? who else would be a better person??????)
and this guy is so gentle and respectful with you - he’ll ask exactly what you want him to show you, what you want him to do, will ask before whatever he does whether you’re okay with it or not,...
you just end up having really sweet sex as you help each other out of your clothes and you both get a little distracted worshipping each other’s body
there will be a lot of giggling as you slowly figure out what the other likes and what not, until you end up flat on your back, with his head between your legs, and suddenly all that light-hearted curiousity turns into a deep passion
he eats you out and makes you cum on his tongue multiple times, eager to please you and to see how many more of those sinful moans and whimpers he can draw out of you
until finally you grab him by the hair and pull him away so he would give you a break to catch your breath and to remind him that he was supposed to teach you how to do this stuff
“You asked me how to please a guy,” he replies. “This is how you please this guy right here.” - at this point he is absolutely pussy drunk, there’s no going back for him
will offer to get you off every single time you have a sleepover from now on (and mysteriously the amount of sleepovers you have is suddenly increasing drastically), but he will also exert some amount of self control beforehand and let you get him off too, before he makes you feel good
Jongho:
the first time you very awkwardly hint at him that you’ve been wondering if he’d be willing to teach you how to fuck he simply laughs
until he realizes you weren’t joking
panics internally as all the times he’s gotten off while thinking of you flash him by and he somehow manages to tell you that you’re just friends and you should really reconsider this!!!
he never actually gives you a proper answer on that day, and neither of you bring it up until like two weeks later
you’re both chilling with your phones in your hands, having made yourselves comfortable on his bed as you often do when you’re at his place, when he suddenly speaks up
“So… do you still want me to… teach you a few things?” he asks, not taking his eyes off his phone, and you can feel the nervousness radiating off of him - but as soon as you say yes that mood instantly gets replaced with confidence
“Then come here.” - he goes slow to figure out what you’re okay with and what not, but when you throw your arms around him once he starts scattering kisses in your neck as he hovers above you, he knows he can’t hold back anymore
gets you off with his hand first, before he guides yours to his cock and shows you exactly how he wants you to return the favour
“Wanna go all the way? Cause I’ve been thinking about this…” he admits, and when you say yes he doesn’t spare you any details
tells you about what he wants to do to you, and lets you decide which of his fantasies you want to recreate, until you end up in all kinds of positions, having him fucking one orgasm after the other out of you, until it becomes clear you’re getting tired and you really can’t take any more
you’re both very awkward after this, to the point you act weird around each other even in front of your other friends, who start wondering whether you had a fight
but as things calm down between the two of you, you meet up again at his place
you decided prior to that that what happened several days ago was a one time thing, and you wouldn’t do it again
or so you thought, because as soon as you find yourselves side by side on his bed again, neither of you can deny that the only thing you’re thinking about is continuing where you had left off last time
#ateez smut#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#hongjoong smut#seonghwa smut#yunho smut#yeosang smut#san smut#mingi smut#wooyoung smut#jongho smut#ateez x reader#ateez drabbles#ateez hard thoughts#smut
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The Grid! : When their teammate likes you...
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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.
this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!
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Oscar Piastri: somehow plays it cool…
Oscar understood that you were a magnetic person. You’d always been more extroverted than him, always been a bit more open to other people, and generally, you were just interesting. He got where Lando was coming from, to be fair, he’d fallen for you too.
But openly flirting with you in the middle of a red flag during one of the most dangerous races of the season? That took a certain asshole.
Lando Norris.
Oscar had looked up to Lando throughout his career, and now having him as his teammate was brilliant. He loved it, up to a point. In recent months he’d been noticing the way Lando looked at you. The way he talked to you. The way he always wanted to be around you.
“Hey baby,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around Oscar as he walked up. “Doing well out there.”
He also knew that you were less than interested in Lando. Not that you didn’t like him, but you did find him slightly immature and ridiculous, especially with how he handles races and media afterwards. You much preferred Oscar’s style of driving, and his way of speaking.
Oscar nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He watched as Lando’s face fell, then he quickly picked it back up. “Doing our best, right Lando?”
You both looked to Lando, who looked guilty, like he’d been caught.
“Yeah mate,” he agreed before walking off.
“Jealous much?” you smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Oscar shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Just wanted a kiss, that’s all.”
“From me or Lando?” you teased.
“You, obviously,” he mocked.
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Lando Norris: deeply insecure.
Lando is insecure about a lot of things. One of his main ones is his worth as a human, and a driver. It hit him hard when Oscar got to stand on the top step of a podium before he ever had. He knew it was a matter of circumstance and the fact that the car was getting better, but it still hurt. Yet, you were always there to pick up the pieces. His sweet, kind girlfriend who was always there for him.
That same girlfriend that was laughing at a joke Oscar told. Oscar wasn’t funny. Oscar has never been funny.
Lando watched as you two talked. He watched the way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you engaged with his points and added your own. The way you two easily laughed, joked, and teased each other without ever going too far.
He couldn’t help but feel… without. You had always been more introverted, and your extroverted side always seemed to come out with other introverts, aka, not Lando. Then began his spiralling of wondering whether or not he was good enough for you. He knew you loved him, and he loved you, but would that be enough? When you’re so different? When he can’t give you what Oscar can? Oscar was a 2-time-Gp winner in his second year. Oscar was more similar to you than Lando was. Oscar’s personality was closer to yours than Lando’s was.
Was he enough for you?
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He walked into the hotel room, exhausted, and glad that the day was over. Media days took it out of him, and he was sick of watching Oscar’s smug face as he charmed you all day.
You flung yourself on the bed, exhausted. “Oscar would not shut up today, would he?” you sighed.
Lando’s lips quirked up into a smile. He turned to hide it. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. He kept talking to me about random shit, and I had to pretend to be interested all day.”
Lando almost laughed. “You don’t seem to mind when I talk your ear off.”
“Yeah, obviously not,” you scoffed, looking at him as if it were obvious. “I like your rants. You don’t expect me to answer you all the time. You just let me listen. Plus, I love your voice.”
Lando’s heart felt fuller than it did before. You picked him. You loved him.
“You like my voice, eh?” he smirked, joining you on the bed. He pressed soft kisses to your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. “I know a way you can hear it-”
“Lando, did I not just say I’m exhausted,” you chuckled, playfully pushing him off.
He smiled. You truly were perfect.
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Lewis Hamilton: unbothered
He watched as George attempted to flirt with you and laughed. You laughed too, thinking it was a joke. George walked off, embarrassed.
Lewis walked over and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “George is-”
“Pathetic?” he offered and you shook your head.
“Don’t be so mean!” you scolded.
“He’s a big boy, he can take it,” he smirked. “And anyways, what was he thinking?”
“I am your wife,” you nodded, agreeing. “But he is pretty cute…”
Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” he teased.
You laughed. “Never.”
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George Russell: trusts you
“Lewis, nice to meet you,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n Russell.”
“Y/n… your sister?” Lewis turned to George, smirking. “I didn’t realise she was so pretty, I guess someone had to take all the beauty genes.”
“She’s my wife,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist. “And yes, she is gorgeous.”
You somehow kept it together as Lewis apologised and walked off, but immediately broke out into laughter as he turned his back.
“What a dick,” George chuckled. “You alright?”
“All good baby,” you giggled. “A bit weirded out that he thought we were siblings.”
George nodded, grimacing. “I vote we never speak about this again.”
“I second that,” you nodded.
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Kimi Antonelli: confused more than anything
Ollie was a really nice guy, one of Kimi’s best friends despite only knowing each other for a year. He was a good teammate and a good friend.
Kimi was clueless. He didn’t always understand what people meant when people ‘flirted’, to be fair, English was his second language. He watched as Ollie wrapped an arm around you, resting it over your shoulder as you grimaced, clearly wanting him to stop. Kimi just shrugged, assuming you’d just push him off or ask him to stop. You weren’t exactly known to put up with shit like that, so he wasn’t worried. You three walked around the Monaco bay, looking at the boats as the sun set, all three of you full from dinner. When you finally parted ways, you and Kimi went back to your hotel room as Ollie stayed out, going to Arthur’s house to visit, you sighed as you lay down.
“What did you think of Ollie?” Kimi asked, laying beside you, your back to him.
“Apart from his obvious flirting, I thought he was nice, I guess,” you shrugged.
Kimi frowned. “What do you mean?”
You turned around to see him. “Him flirting? Yeah, I thought you’d say something about it,” you explained. “He was kind of… weird about it.”
“Did he make you uncomfortable?” he asked, upset with himself that he hadn't noticed.
You stared at him with an inquisitive look, he really was oblivious. “Of course he did.”
“What?” he questioned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want to make a bad impression,” you muttered. “He’s your best friend.”
“And you’re my girlfriend,” he reminded you, taking your hand. “And you are more important. If someone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me and I will deal with it, alright?”
You nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his hand. “Thanks Kimi.”
“Anything for you,” he smiled.
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Alex Albon: slightly insecure…
He sat in his drivers room, he’d just filmed Team Torque with you and Logan, and he couldn’t help but feel… left out. You were American, specifically from the exact state of Florida, where Logan was from, you lived on the same street. You’d grown up together before he left to move to do European single-seaters. The entire episode was just you two talking and reminiscing over your joint experiences as a kid. Logan remembered everything about you, your favourite colour, your favourite food, even your favourite childhood movie (which Alex had gotten wrong).
“What’s on your mind?” You asked, sitting beside him. “You’re not talking.”
“I didn’t know you and Logan were such good friends,” he admitted.
You shrugged. “We grew up together.”
“I know,” he responded, his voice low and hardened. “I didn’t know he’d remember everything about you.”
“I mean, people told me he had a crush on me in middle school so…” you trailed off when you noticed how Alex was closing his eyes and nodding. “Are you… jealous, or something?”
“No.” Yes.
You smiled, feeling a little bit guilty. “Alex, you don’t have to be jealous,” you assured him. “I love you. More than anything.”
The pain in his chest eased slightly. “You’re sure?”
“Very,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
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Franco Colapinto: doesn’t even notice or gaf
Alex laughed at one of your jokes as Franco looked over some of the data from his crash. After a while, you walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind.
“Hi bebé,” he smiled, tired, but happy to see you. “How are you?”
You groaned. “Alex keeps flirting with me.”
His ears pricked up hearing you say that. “Alex?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. He turned to you.
“Should I ask him to stop? I can talk to him-”
“It’s alright, I made him aware of the fact that I’m not interested,” you explained.
“Oh, alright,” he shrugged. “Once you’re happy.”
He went back to looking over the data and you frowned. No reaction? No possessiveness?
“You don’t mind?” you questioned.
“That he was flirting with you?” he asked, you nodded. “No, not really. I’m the one you’ve chosen for 3 years. We love each other, sí?”
You nodded.
“So we’re fine,” he smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
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Logan Sargeant: also a bit upset…
He sighed as he watched Alex chat to you, a smirk on his face. You were his girlfriend, Alex couldn’t have you. Alex had James, Alex had Williams, Alex had the talent. Logan had you. Alex couldn’t have you.
You glanced back at Logan, who had grown quieter in recent moments, and you frowned. His eyes were blown up, wide-eyed, mouth open, and his mind was thousands of miles away. You politely ended the conversation with Alex, dragging Logan back into his driver's room with a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”
He nodded, trying to play it off. “I”m fine, just… tired.”
You frowned again. “Logan, you can talk to me.”
He shook his head, his hands gripping your waist, then the dam broke and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you if I lose this.”
Your heart broke. “Logan you’d-“
“No, please just let me talk,” he whispered. “I love you, more than anything. We both know I’m getting replaced either after or during this season,” hearing him say it as such a definite, hurt you. You knew how badly Williams had messed him up, but to hear him so defeated? You could’ve cried. “And I don’t want to lose you if I lose all of this. I love racing, but I love you more. You’ve been here through everything, always. You’re always here for me, and I just hope I haven’t fucked this whole relationship up with all my mental health stuff and being a bad driver-”
“Logan,” your tone was stern. “I love you. I love you, my Logan. I support ‘F1 driver Logan Sargeant’, and you’ll always be that, but I love Logan Sargeant, the boy who asked me out when I was 14 and never looked back, the boy who has made me feel loved and supported since that day, the boy who fought an uphill battle and is only now realising he’s allowed to let the boulder fall. I love that you’re a fighter. I love that you’re a driver. But I love most that you care about and love me. I care more about your mental health than any money or fame you could ever gain. I’m not asking you to keep putting yourself through this, Logan. I want you to be healthy and happy. I want you to smile again. I want to see the real you again.”
“What is the real me if I’m not winning?” his voice was just below a whisper.
“You get to figure that out,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now please look at me Logan, so you know that I’m telling the truth.”
He raised his head, his eyes watery as he looked at yours, and for the first time in a while, he actually felt like it might all be ok.
Granted, only when he was with you, but alright all the same.
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Daniel Riccardo: freaky wit it
Daniel gripped his steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white under his gloves. He was in the car, meant to be in the zone, but all he could think about was the way that Yuki had a hand on your back. He knew Yuki definitely wasn’t a threat to him or his relationship, but it still felt shitty not being able to get over there and show him that you were his.
He rushed out of the car, exhausted after bringing the VCarb in Q3 yet again, and immediately his hands were on you.
“Looking so good today baby,” he whispered between kisses. “So fuckin’ pretty for me.”
You groaned against his lips, smiling. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah baby, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he smirked as he pushed a hand into your underwear. Your eyes went wide and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loud. You weren’t even in his drivers room, you were doing it against Yuki’s door in the hallway.
“We should-fuck- we should go to your r-room,” you stuttered out as he rubbed your clit in lazy circles.
“Why?” he smirked. “When I could have you right here and now,” he punctuated every word with a kiss, moving your hand and swallowing your moans as he sped up. “So fuckin�� beautiful so me.”
“Dan,” you moaned as he finally pushed a finger in.
“So wet for me too. You like doing it like this? Where anyone could hear you? Anyone could see us?” he knew his words were falling on deaf ears as he revelled in the fact that he got to watch you fall apart for him. He got to make you cum, he got to kiss you, he heard every laugh, saw every part of you and your personality. It was him who you picked to love, and be loved in return.
And by God, he wouldn’t trade you for the world.
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Liam Lawson: angry sex anyone???
Liam grabbed your hand, pulling you into his drivers room after he had watched Yuki give you heart-eyes yet again.
“That fucking dick,” he seethed, pressing his body against yours, pressing kisses up and down your neck. “Always fuckin’ wants what’s mine.”
“Liam,” you whimpered as he pushed you down on the bed. “Please.”
Any and all control of himself was abandoned, and he pulled his race suit off, watching as you pulled off your dress.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he cursed, climbing on top of you as he smirked. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?”
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly pushed inside you. It burned, in the best way. “All yours.”
He smiled. “That’s my girl, taking me so well.”
Once he was fully inside and you were comfortable, he was thrusting in and out of you at a rate previously unknown to Liam. Did he like fast and rough sex? Yes. Was it ever this fast? No. Was it ever this rough? … no comment. He was grabbing and smacking all over your ass and tits, you were too busy gripping onto his hair as he used you how he pleased, all the while cursing out Yuki and praising you.
You both left the driver’s room a little bit less steady than before, but much more satisfied than going in. Liam felt better too, since he’d given you something to show just how much he meant it when he said he was yours, and you were his. That something stayed dripping down your leg as Liam finished the race, ahead of Yuki.
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Charles LeClerc: death?
He watched, the light in his eyes slowly dying, as you spoke animatedly to Carlos.
Carlos Sainz, now number one enemy of Charles LeClerc.
Honestly, he knew you’d never choose anyone over him, you loved him and he knew that. Still, some voice inside of him continued to urge him to run over to you two and scream ‘mine’ and then run off with you. He didn’t, obviously. He knew you would’ve been mad at him if he did.
As the day continued, you stayed talking to Carlos, every so often, Charles would interject with a sarcastic comment, or some stupid fact about you, then following it up with ‘yeah, I know more than you’. It turned the two of them into school children. Both of them coming to you at different times of the day with random facts about random things, until you finally told them both to stop and share their love of facts with each other, not you. You had gotten so frustrated with the two of them, that you didn’t even want to speak to Charles.
They both stopped after that.
Any time Charles was jealous after that palaver? Yeah, he just stuck with the regular PDA overload. He didn’t want to deal with another sex ban.
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Carlos Sainz: also freaky wit it
His gaze darkened as he watched Charles put a hand on your shoulder. Bullshit. You were his girlfriend. You were his.
“Querida, stop fucking with me,” he demanded, a tight hold on your arm as he dragged you into his hotel room, 30 minutes later.
You scoffed. “I’m shockingly not fucking with you at all,” you smiled, annoyed but unsurprised at his shitty behaviour. “In fact, I was being perfectly nice to everyone, including you, all night.”
He watched as you sat on the bed, exasperated and tired of his behaviour. He noticed how you quickly pulled off your heel, took down your hair and sighed, staring at him.
“What?” you asked. “What did I do now?”
Part of him left bad, it wasn’t your fault that you were irresistible. It wasn’t your fault that Charles thought he could have whatever he wanted. It wasn’t your fault that you had to be kind, just to keep up appearances. It still made his blood boil, but he did appreciate the fact that it wasn’t technically your fault.
But someone had to help him get rid of all of this pent up tension.
“On your knees,” he spoke, his voice low and laced with desire. Your eyes widened, but you did as he said anyway and sank down to your knees in front of him, “It’s going to be a long night, querida. I can’t wait to see your pretty makeup smudged,” he smiled sadistically as you tried to not be as turned on as you were.
I guess you two were a match made in heaven, or maybe hell.
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Arthur LeClerc: plays his jealousy off… (not)
He grabbed a handful of your ass, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to yours as you yelped. You had been unsuspecting as you leaned over the guest barrier, trying to hear what Manuel was saying to you, when Arthur had caught his other teammate, Charles, staring at you with a smirk.
You shoved him off after a few seconds and stared at him, waiting for an explanation.
He shrugged. “Je voulais t'embrasser,” (I wanted to kiss you). “Is that a crime?”
“When you’re doing it like that, yes,” you chuckled, amused by his jealousy.
“What?’ he smirked. “You don’t like it?” he teased.
You rolled your eyes. “Arthur LeClerc,” your tone was warning. “Don’t push it,” you leaned in closer, whispering. “Tout le monde n'est pas aussi obsédé par moi que toi, arrête d'être jaloux.” (Not everyone is as obsessed with me as you, stop being jealous).
He laughed. “Tu es irrésistible,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “I cannot help it!” You gave him the finger as he walked away, and he blew you a kiss.
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Ollie Bearman: a bit upset…
He literally hit his head against the desk as he watched Kimi flash you his signature smile. He was sick of it. You were his girlfriend, not Kimi's best friend. You were his girlfriend. Alas, he couldn’t exactly whisk you away, you were his race engineer after all, and this was a strategy meeting, so he sucked it up and paid attention, trying not to look at you.
You’d noticed how low Ollie had been all day and caught up with him as you walked out of the strategy meeting. “You alright?” you asked, wrapping one his arms around your shoulders as you walked beside him, away from the rest of the group.
“I’m alright,” he lied, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on his lips. You frowned.
“Please talk to me,” you begged. “I don’t like it when you shut me out.”
He sighed. “It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s not,” you smiled. “I’m sure it’s not Ollie, just talk to me.”
“I don’t like how close Kimi is to you,” he admitted. “I’m… It makes me jealous sometimes.”
Your face softened. “So I’ll put some distance,” you shrugged. “Easy.”
He did a double-take. “N-no I- you don’t have to do-”
“Ollie. I want us to work, and if that means I have to ask Kimi to back off a little bit, then I’ll do it, yeah?”
Ollie nodded. “I’m sorry-”
“Shut up and kiss me, Bearman,” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips to his.
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Max Verstappen: ummm guys???
Max would be an insufferable child. He would literally hide their gloves and racing shoes, he would put dish-soap in their bottle, he’d somehow fuck up their laundry, and all because they looked at you too long. You were his, why would anyone else think you were available.
There he was, on live, racing with his team, when you came over with another can of redbull for him. He’d been focused on the game, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of his teammate, Luke’s stream. He saw him checking you out.
He saw red.
“Luke, do you need something or do you just like staring at my girlfriend?” he scoffed and you groaned. He wasn’t unknown to make scenes in public.
“Max,” you groaned. “Please don’t.”
He rolled his eyes and settled for a kiss on the cheek while Luke just blushed. Max understood where he was coming from, you were fucking gorgeous. That still didn’t make it right though.
Again, a little while later, he caught Luke staring at you as you sat in the back of his set up, watching the race silently.
“Seriously Luke, do I need to turn off my camera or can you act like an adult and keep it in your pants?” He scoffed. “Het is onzin,”(it’s bullshit) he sighed.
“Max, calm down,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, muting his mic. “Who gives a fuck about Luke?”
He groaned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he admitted.
“I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright,” you smiled, kissing him again. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he smiled, then went back to his racing, though he did push Luke off the track (in the game) a few (7) times.
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Paul Aron: he trusts you.
He sighed, watching Armaury place a hand on your waist. Was he losing you?
Then he smiled as he watched you shove him off, shouting in his face. You were a big girl, you could handle yourself. You didn’t always need Paul to come in and protect you, he loved that about you. He felt his sense of pride growing as you walked over, still shouting at his teammate who was looking increasingly guilty and uncomfortable, even more so when you ran over to Paul and kissed him right there and then, in front of everyone.
Yeah, he really had nothing to worry about.
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Lance Stroll: mf he is scary.
Lance smirked as he watched James (a friend of his) wrap an arm around your waist as you danced with a couple friends. Your face screwed up into one of disgust, and you politely excused yourself to get another drink. James sauntered over to Lance, a smug smile on his face.
“Might want to keep your lady on a tighter leash,” he smirked.
“Oh yeah?” Lance cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah man, she was dancing all over me!” he chuckled. “Seriously, I’d steal if she wasn’t such a-”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” he told him, his tone dangerous. “My girlfriend is exactly that, my girlfriend. If you want to go dance with her and make her uncomfortable, that’s your prerogative, but don’t be surprised when I punch you for it.”
His ‘friend’ left quickly after that. He didn’t bother you again.
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Jack Doohan: maybe a bit angry…
He scoffed as he watched Pierre try yet another pick-up line on you and he felt himself get even angrier. Yes, he was the new guy. Yes, he should definitely bite his tongue and suck it up. Did he do that? No…
He went over to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head as Pierre’s face fell into a frown.
“Oh, you two are-!” He started.
“Together? Yeah. 3 years, right babe?” He smiled, a little too smiley for regular Jack.
“3 years, sounds right,” you nodded. “Nice to meet you Pierre,” you smiled before walking off, away from the two of them. Jack followed behind you and you sighed. “You’re an idiot.”
“It’s not my fault I have a hot girlfriend,” he defended.
“It’s not my fault I’m the hot girlfriend!” You laughed. “Just… keep your jealousy to yourself in the future!”
He grabbed onto your waist a pleading look in his eye. “But you make it so hard…”
“Don’t give me ‘fuck me’ eyes right now Jack Doohan,” you scoffed, pushing him off. “You are such a child.”
He chuckled, happy with himself.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#daniel riccardo x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#alex albon x reader#george russell x reader#george russell#lando norris x you#f1#arthur leclerc x reader#liam lawson x reader#paul aron x reader#logan sargeant x reader#franco colapinto x reader#ollie bearman x reader#jack doohan x reader#lance stroll x reader
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Tempting the Cowboy
Summary: The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.
warnings: (MDNI, 18+) softdom spence, nipple play, handjob, fingering, female and male oral, semi-public sex
word count: 6k (i had too much fun, okay?)
a/n: This is such a random plot. Cowboy spence seemed so impossible, but then again, so did prison reid and look what happened.
Never in a million years would you ever have thought that a certified genius with an IQ of 187, after fifteen years of dedicated service to the FBI, would change career paths and settle down in the countryside. Yet here you were, driving to the middle of nowhere, trying to find that man.
The GPS led you down dusty backroads, past fields of golden wheat and weathered barns until finally, you arrived at his ranch. The scent of hay and the distant sound of cattle filled the air as you stepped out of the car and you couldn't help but feel out of place.
Your usual black pants and fitted blouse seemed like a striking contrast to your surroundings, especially with the sleek boots on your feet. Adjusting your shirt, you finally approached the farmhouse, the gravel crunch beneath your feet echoed with every step you took.
A group of men caught your eyes as they emerged from a weathered barn at the end of the road, and you found yourself approaching them instead. Clearing your throat, you called out to them.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," you began, "I'm looking for Spencer Reid. Is he around?"
The men exchanged knowing glances before one of them, a weathered cowboy with a straw hat shading his face, spoke up.
"You must be lookin' for the doc," he said, nodding towards the stable. "He's over there tendin' to the horses. You can't miss 'im."
With a grateful nod, you followed their directions. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you walked into the stable, unsure of what to expect from the man who had once been your colleague but now seemed like a stranger in this unfamiliar setting.
As you pushed open the creaking door, the scent of leather and hay washed over you. Inside, you finally spotted him, his back turned as he tended to a horse in the corner of the room. His familiar profile was a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings, and for a moment, it felt surreal to see him in this new role.
Gone were the suits or knitted cardigans; instead, he was clad in well-worn denim and leather that gave him a distinctly different, yet undeniably attractive appearance. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the definition in his arms and a cowboy hat was perched on his head, its brim casting a shadow over his features, while his tousled hair peeked out from beneath it.
It was a side of him you had never seen before—one that seemed more at peace, more connected to the land than the city. And as you watched him work, the soft murmur of his voice filling the room as he spoke soothingly to the horse he was gently brushing, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing you were going to ruin his peace.
As if sensing another presence in the room, he suddenly turned his head before his gaze fell on you. A genuine smile curled at the corner of your lips as you approached him. "Howdy, cowboy."
A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he straightened himself, which was quickly replaced with realization at your sudden visit.
"I was wondering when they'd send you here," he remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and resignation. You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his familiar demeanor.
"I guess today is your lucky day." Your eyes scanned the rustic surroundings of his ranch, taking in the simplicity of his new life. "Well, this is quite the change of scenery."
He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his tone as he gestured around the farmhouse. "It's definitely a far cry from the city," he admitted. "But it suits me."
"It does seem like you've found your place here. It's... different, but in a good way."
Spencer's smile widened at your words "It is different, and I like it here," he agreed. "Which is why I'm going to say no to whatever reason you're here."
You raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even said anything."
"You didn't have to, everyone else has already said their piece." He turned and focused his attention back on his horse. "And the answer is still no."
You silently studied him as he finished his task. He was right; your other teammates had already been here before you, trying to coax him back to the BAU. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of determination rise within you. Spencer Reid might be a stubborn cowboy now, but you knew deep down that his brilliant mind belonged with the team.
But knowing no one else could crack his stubbornness, you knew you needed a different approach and the only way you could think of was to reel him in with his current interest. "He's beautiful," you acknowledged, nodding towards the horse he was working on. "What's his name?"
"She's beautiful," he corrected. "And her name is Mildred."
The name didn't sound foreign to you. "You must really have something sentimental with that name. Didn't you name one of your mugs Mildred?"
He tipped his head back. "You remembered?"
"Of course, I do," you replied with a grin. "I remember a lot about you, even if we didn't have much time getting to know each other."
The memories of your time at the BAU flooded back. The way you joined the team right before Spencer had decided to take a break, which had turned out to be more permanent than anyone had anticipated. Although it was hard to forget a guy like him. You remembered when your eyes first fell on him and how your heart fluttered at his awkward yet charming smile.
There was something about him, something magnetic and intriguing that drew you in from the very beginning. It was a pity he had to leave shortly after you joined the team because you swore your admiration wasn't one-sided, but with Spencer gone, any hope of exploring those feelings had faded away.
As you stood before him now, you couldn't help but study how different he was yet still managed to look the same. The rugged cowboy attire he now wore seemed worlds away from the suit and tie he had once donned as a profiler, yet there was a familiarity to his features that remained unchanged.
But one thing was for sure, despite the time and distance of not seeing him, you were still attracted to Spencer Reid.
"I remember a lot about you too."
You laughed. "That's because you have an eidetic memory." Spencer simply flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You slowly took a step forward towards him. "Can I touch her?"
He nodded, gesturing towards Mildred. "Go ahead. She's quite friendly."
You approached the horse cautiously, extending your hand to stroke her mane gently. Mildred nuzzled against your palm, her warm breath tickling your skin. A sense of calm washed over you as you felt the gentle rhythm of her breathing.
Spencer watched you with a soft smile, his gaze warm and reassuring. "She likes you," he remarked, his voice low and soothing.
You smiled back. "I like her too," you replied, your fingers trailing along Mildred's soft fur. Then your eyes glanced over to him and the gears in your head started to move. You needed to act as stealthy as possible. "So... how fast can horses go? In general?"
His smile widened at your question. "Well, it depends on various factors like breed, training, and terrain," he began, falling into his familiar role as an educator. "On average, horses can reach speeds of around 25 to 30 miles per hour, but some breeds can go even faster, reaching speeds of up to 40 miles per hour."
You nodded, absorbing the information as you continued stroking Mildred's fur while keeping your true intentions hidden behind a facade of innocent curiosity. "Are mammals usually that fast?"
"Actually, yes," he replied. "While horses are known for their impressive speed, they're not the only mammals capable of reaching high velocities."
"...how about bulls?"
Spencer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by your sudden interest in bulls. "Bulls?" he echoed, studying you intently.
You met his gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, bulls."
He continued to scrutinize you, his sharp intellect picking up on your evasive behavior. Spencer may not work as a profiler anymore, but he could tell when someone had ulterior motives.
"Alright, what is it?" he finally asked, crossing his arms.
You sighed, trying not to focus on the way his arms flexed at the movement, and took another step towards him. If you were going to convince him to return to the BAU, you needed to be honest with him. "Well, you see, the current case we're working on is... it's a bit unusual."
Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his interest evident in how he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to continue.
"Three victims were found dead under suspicious circumstances," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "The strange part is, all three victims were found with injuries consistent with being trampled by bulls."
"Trampled by bulls?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.
"It sounds bizarre, I know. There have been reports of aggressive behavior from a nearby ranch, and the local authorities suspect that the deaths may be connected to the bulls on the property. But the thing is, the autopsies showed that it might not even be caused by any type of animal."
"And you want me to help with the investigation," he summarized.
"We could certainly use your help," you admitted, hoping that he would see the significance of his involvement.
Spencer fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered your words. Then, without saying another word, he turned on his heels and began to walk towards another part of the stable, a hidden corner shrouded in shadows. Your heart sank as you watched him move away.
"I don't think I'm the person you should be looking for."
You followed him, determined not to let him slip away without a fight. "You're exactly the person we should be looking for! With that smart brain of yours and your knowledge of farm animals, we could profile the Unsub in no time."
His steps faltered momentarily as your words reached him, but he didn't turn back to face you. Instead, he continued walking, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the stable.
"I appreciate the sentiment," he called back over his shoulder, his voice tinged with resignation, "But I'm not sure I'm the right fit for this anymore."
"Reid," you called after him, quickening your pace to catch up. "Please, just hear me out."
"Y/n," he warned dangerously low. The way he spoke your name affected you more than you'd like to admit. You cautiously took a step forward.
"Do you know how long it took me to do a geographical profile of the crime scenes? Or how Alvez spent two nights going through stacks of documents when you would've finished it in like an hour?" You let out a sigh. "It's so different without you, we miss you."
He slightly faltered at your words again but remained quiet, so you tried again.
"We could really use your help, Spence, at least on this case. The team needs you." You watched him try to do some other task as if trying to ignore you. "I need you."
He remained silent for a moment longer, the only sound the soft shuffle of his boots against the stable floor. Then, slowly, he turned to face you, and there was a subtle shift in his expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"...you need me?"
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his unexpected question. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as you became hyper-aware of the proximity between the two of you. Your gaze involuntarily flickered over every detail of his face, taking in the curve of his stubble jaw, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and the lines etched on his brow.
You also noticed his lips. Those damn kissable lips, pressed together in a thin line as he waited for your response. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to them, a surge of desire coursing through you at the mere thought of what it would feel like to press your own against them.
Shaking yourself from your inappropriate thoughts, you forced your gaze back to his eyes, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at where your mind had wandered. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.
"Yes," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I need you."
As the words left your lips, a heavy silence fell upon the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his gaze intense and searching, as if he were trying to interpret the depth of your confession. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you could hear the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, the rhythm erratic and unsteady.
"And you missed me?"
You held his gaze. While your words might not have been an outright confession, it wasn't exactly a lie, and there was no reason to deny the truth.
"I missed you," you admitted, your voice sounding more breathless than you intended. He smiled. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of it searing through you like a flame.
"Fine, I'll help you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "On one condition."
Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins as you waited for him to continue. His gaze held yours, unwavering and intense. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, from your wide eyes to the slope of your nose, before lingering on your lips. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shallow breaths. Then he finally spoke.
"Be honest with me," he responded, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline, "Do you need my help with the case or do you need me for something else?"
You met his gaze, searching for the right words to express the truth of your intentions. "Both," you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help with the case, but I also... need you."
A satisfied smile curled on his lips as he gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer. But just as you thought he would close the distance between your lips, he paused, his warm breath teasing against your skin. His next question hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one.
"Tell me what you need me for then."
Your breath caught in your throat as his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. "I-I need you to kiss me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, your words tinged with urgency and desire. "Please."
His gaze darkened. "I never took you as one to beg," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "But I must admit, I quite like it."
Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch. You could still feel the smile playing on his lips, but only briefly before he moved them slowly, capturing every curve of your soft lips.
He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, holding your jaw in place. His hand cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, while his other hand explored your body. It trailed down your back, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you, before settling on your hip. You gasped at the sudden contact and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deeper.
With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, knocking off his hat onto the floor before tugging lightly at the roots, eliciting a low moan from him that vibrated against your lips.
What had started as gently molding your lips together turned into a passionate dance of tongues, leaving you moaning and breathless. He slowly pulled away, his eyes slamming shut as his forehead met yours, both of you gasping for air while you tried to regain your composure. His breath mingled with yours, a heady mix of desire and need, as he spoke in a ragged voice.
"You," he gasped, his words laced with raw intensity, "Taste better than I imagined."
Your head was spinning. How could he consume you with just a kiss? You had dreamed of this moment, of being close to him, but you never imagined it would affect you as deeply as it did now.
"Do you even realize," He pressed on, his voice low with pent-up longing. "How much I've wanted to do this?"
Your head was swimming in a haze of desire as his lips trailed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah?" you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts.
He nodded against your neck. "Ever since I saw you."
"Wh-Why didn't you say anything?" you managed to stammer out, the words barely audible amidst the dizzying sensation of his lips on your skin.
"Wasn't sure you felt the same way."
You took a moment to process his words, the warmth of his breath against your skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through you. "You should've said something, it would make this whole convincing you a lot easier."
He paused, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck. "I don't know," he finally murmured. "I think I need a little more persuading."
His words sent a jolt of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the intoxicating sensation of his lips on your skin.
"I can persuade you in other ways."
Spencer lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours. "Then show me," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.
There was no room for hesitation. You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a desperate, passionate kiss, fully aware of the risk of being caught, but his mouth on your body felt too good to care. It wasn't like you hadn't fantasized about this exact moment, about the feel of his mouth on your body, the way his hands would explore every inch of you with a hunger that mirrored your own.
His hands found your hips, pushing you to the nearest wall before his fingers fumbled with the buttons on your blouse. It was clear you both decided that the risk was well worth the wait.
"May I?" He asked, his fingers still working on your front buttons.
You laughed amusedly. "You already are."
His response was a chuckle of his own before he buried his head in your neck again. The opening in the front of your shirt chilled your body, sending goosebumps all along your skin as his hands caressed over your lacy, black bra covering your breasts, thumbing your hardened nipples.
He leaned further down, trailing his lips over your cleavage, before sucking softly on the spot. The sensation made you gasp, knowing well enough that there would be marks left behind, but you didn't care. Wanting to give more to him, you reached out between your bodies and pulled down your bra, granting him more access to your skin.
His eyes drank in the sight before him hungrily. He gently rubbed against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he did, eyes completely trained on them now. Without warning he surged forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him.
A choked moan left your lips as he continued sucking, licking, twirling his tongue around it while playing with the other with his hand. "Spence..." you whined, your voice sounding clear in the room.
"Shh," he mumbled against your skin. "Keep your voice down."
You nodded helplessly as he released your nipple before wrapping his lips around the other one, giving the same attention. He repeated the motion, rolling your wet nipple under his calloused palm, having you arch your back and push your chest into his face. He didn't have to be told twice, immediately giving it a hard suck while pinching the other one.
The sensation traveled along your body before it lowered between your thighs, forming an ache the second his hand trailed down your stomach. His fingers finally found the hem of your pants, before dipping underneath the material, slipping right underneath your panties. Your breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between your folds, spreading your slick before finding its rightful place on your clit.
"You're so wet," he whispered in a daze, trailing his lips back up your collarbone. He couldn't believe how drenched you already were. "All this for me?"
You nodded, gasping when he stroked up and down your folds, coating his fingers with your arousal. Your hips buckled against his touch and he didn't hesitate when he started rubbing your clit, feeling your body writhe under him. A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through you, and your head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed.
But before you could relish the pleasure, he suddenly pulled his hand out of your pants before tugging you, urging you to follow him. As he led you deeper into the stable, your heart raced with anticipation. You followed him silently, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled you behind the stacks of hay, sheltering the two of you from prying eyes.
The rustling of the hay beneath you echoed in the room as he pulled you closer, his touch igniting a fire within you as you pressed your hands on his chest. With trembling hands, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and his gaze never left yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
As your fingertips brushed along his skin, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He wasn't muscular in the conventional sense, but there was a lean strength to him that was undeniably attractive. Your fingers continued their journey downward, skimming lightly over the softness of his stomach before teasing along the line of hair that trailed further down.
Your hands found their way to the buckle of his belt, fingers deftly working to undo it. He made no move to stop you as his gaze remained fixed on you. There was a hunger in his eyes, urging you for more, yet he remained patient, allowing you to take the lead. And then you tugged down his denim, not much than an inch but enough for you to pull his cock out.
He was warm and achingly hard, and a low, guttural sound escaped his lips as his hips bucked into your palm. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a shudder passing through him as he surrendered to the sensation. You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your lips quirked up in a smirk.
"Shh," you whispered, echoing his words. "Keep your voice down."
He chuckled softly, eyes meeting yours. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Not as much as you are."
You proved your point by tugging his cock harder, pumping up and down his length. His head fell back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to stifle his moans. You couldn't help but find it endearing, the way he struggled to keep quiet, his brows creasing in concentration. It was a pity, really, because you liked hearing the raw, unfiltered sounds of his pleasure.
You swiped your thumb along the tip of his cock, gathering the slickness before rubbing it along his length. His head snapped down to look between you, his eyes taking in the way you quickened your pace, pumping him in your hand. A sense of urgency overwhelmed him the moment your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, and he leaned in, shoving his own tongue into your mouth.
The way your fingers gripped his cock had him moaning into the kiss which you happily accepted. As he felt that familiar knot tightening in his stomach, he knew he had to act quickly. With a gasp, he pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he reached between you to halt your movements. With a sense of urgency, he shrugged off his shirt and laid it carefully on the stack of hay behind you.
"Turn around," was all he said as he pushed down his pants to uncover himself, leaving you empty for the moment.
You obliged, turning while gripping the hem of your pants and slipping them down your legs. Without hesitation, you pushed your panties down before kicking them off, giving him the perfect view of your soaked slit. It didn't take long for him to drop onto the floor, his hands running along the back of your thighs.
"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushing your damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"
You leaned forward and arched your back at his words, earning a deep, low sound of approval from him. One of his hands gripped your ass, slowly kneading your supple skin as his other hand grabbed onto your right leg, hiking it over the stack of hay. He had a better view of your wetness in this position, and you bit down your lips when you felt his fingers brush over your entrance.
A finger slipped inside you, then two, and when he started to pump them in and out of your tight walls, you pressed yourself further onto the stack of hay underneath you, trying to hold yourself back from making too much noise. Your arousal dripped from your core to coat his fingers and he was mesmerized by how eager your body was for him, how your hips rocked back against his hand.
But you needed more. His touch, his warmth, his presence—it wasn't enough. Your body ached for him, every nerve alive with desire.
"Please..." you breathlessly begged him, wanting to feel him inside of you, wanting him to rid your body of the tension, of the ache between your legs. Your jaw slacked open when you felt his mouth press against your clit before giving a slight suck.
"Tell me what you need," he ordered, breath deep and raspy and strained against your wet skin. He sucked onto your aching nub once again as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. "And I'll give it to you."
"Please," you gasped, overwhelmed with the sudden force of his fingers and tongue between your legs and the pleasure that coursed through your body. "I w-want to f-feel you."
He pulled his fingers from within you, but his mouth was still exploring the wetness of your skin. His eager tongue worked wonders against your pussy, drawing out every second of pleasure as your hips rolled against his mouth. A whimper slipped from your lips as his tongue worked on your clit faster and you found yourself unable to contain yourself any longer.
"S-Spence..." You whined, not caring how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was your need for him. "Please..."
He placed a kiss on your swollen clit. "Be specific, baby, tell me what you need."
His endearment sent shivers down your spine, and you felt yourself spiraling further. Without hesitation, you begged shamelessly, "I-I want to feel y-your cock."
A low groan fell through his lips as he got off the floor, positioning himself behind you. "Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self-control I have."
"I just—I just need you to fuck me," you didn't recognize the choke in your voice when you whined again.
He had no intention of protesting as he slipped between your legs, finally allowing you to feel just how hard you made him. For a moment, he pushed his hips toward you, grinding his cock against your folds, feeling your arousal soak his flesh.
"Is this what you wanted?" His hand gripped his cock to ease the tip over your entrance, pushing into you slowly, gasping when your walls clenched around him eagerly.
"Fuck, yes," was all you could manage to whimper, eyes screwing shut as he filled you up. And when you could barely stand anymore, becoming a quivering mess beneath him, he finally thrust deeper, pushing his hips against your body, earning a gasp with your mouth falling open.
"Oh my god." You could barely speak, barely form words, or even think as he pressed a hand to on your lower back, holding you in place as he dragged his cock out of you, only to ram himself back inside.
"Harder," you begged him, so breathless once again, "F-Faster."
He listened to you; he listened to the way your body moved against him, the way your walls tightened around his length. The way you stifled a moan and curse and huff anytime he thrust just right to have you pushing your hips back to him, your body trembling, shaking, and your legs nearly giving out because the pleasure became too much to bear.
"D-Don't stop." You had no shame in begging him. Not when he could make you feel so good, not when he was holding onto your hips as he continued to thrust into your dripping cunt.
"That's it," he encouraged, hips beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. "Tell me how good it feels. Beg me not to stop."
"So-so good," you babbled. "Don't—don't fucking stop."
He obliged your words by pushing apart your legs even further. Your face twisted in pleasure, so sensitive and overwhelmed as his hips smacked against your ass and he thrust himself harder into you. Sweat began to bead against his forehead once he pumped his cock into you harder, faster, earning every little whimper, even the ones you lacked the strength to release.
Thoughts of getting caught, of knowing anyone could walk in when he was buried deep inside you, left both of your minds. Neither of you cared when you were so wrapped up in one another. Not when you hiked your leg higher, allowing his cock to hit the spot that had you quivering in his hold when he slammed into you again.
Then he suddenly released his grip on your hips, slipping a hand between the two of you to press his fingers to your clit. The sudden increase in pleasure had you gasping in pure bliss. The room began to spin, air rushing to your head and the harder he fucked you, the deeper he thrust, and the faster his fingers rubbed against your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold your sanity any longer.
He sensed your desperation in the way you gasped his name over and over again, and he thrust into you with more force than before. You tightened around him, squeezing him so damn hard he was tempted to lose all control right then, but he persisted in bringing your pleasure first. The sloppy sounds of your arousal coating his flesh filled the room, and with one, final thrust, you gasped before the pleasure finally consumed you.
He abruptly released your clit as he took hold of your hips again, keeping you in place while ruthlessly thrusting in and out through your bliss. His fingers pressed harder, drawing out every breathless moan, every strained whimper, every gasp of his name until your body grew too weak.
But he was far from done, slowing his hips to hit deep within your walls with aggressive thrusts, bringing his own high closer and closer as you whined from the overwhelming sensation, too sensitive, too far gone to handle much more, shuddering with every push of his cock within you.
"Where—" he groaned, your slick cunt too much for him, your juices drenching along his pelvis. "I'm close—"
You managed to snap your head over your shoulders. "Pull out, pull out."
You watched through fluttering lids as he gripped himself in his hand, and with trembling legs, you kneeled before him, gripped his cock in your hand, and took him fully in your mouth. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he felt your tongue dragging along his length.
You pushed further, hollowing your cheeks as you continued to swallow him down until the tip of his cock finally reached the back of your throat, nose pressed against his pelvis. He tipped his head back as you started to suck him, gagging around him when you felt him thrust his hips into you.
His eyes flicked down again at the sound only to find you looking up at him through your lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, before cradling your soft cheeks in both his large hands, and began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. Obscene noises filled the room as he continued to use you, tears welling at your lids and saliva building at your lips, seeping down your chin.
He continued to pump himself into your mouth, slowly starting to lose control, getting so lost in how warm your lips were wrapped around him. His jaw fell open as he released a final groan, brows creasing and eyes screwed shut, thrusting so deep before the first shot of his release filled your mouth.
Then a few more shots followed and you swallowed every drop down your throat as he continued to look at you in wonder. His breath was punching out of his chest in ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he silently groaned through the pleasure.
His head dipped low as you dragged your tongue up his length for the last time, from the base of his cock to the tip, and you finally licked him clean. A few moments of catching your breaths passed before he gently pulled you back to your feet.
As you both quickly fixed your clothes and adjusted your hair, he retrieved his cowboy hat from where it had been discarded on the floor, placing it back on his head with a grin. Then, without hesitation, he drew you close, his lips peppering your face with sweet, tender kisses.
You laughed at his sudden affection. "What's all this for?" you asked, smiling up at him.
"I feel obligated after... all of that," he confessed, his lips brushing softly against yours before he withdrew slightly. "You're amazing."
Your smile widened at his words, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. "And you're not so bad yourself," you replied teasingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "So, was that enough to convince you to come back?"
"Almost," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I think I need a bit more convincing."
You quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think I have it in me for round two."
"No, not that," he said with a laugh. His hand slid down to rest on your lower back, drawing you closer to him. "Have dinner with me tonight and I'll come by the office tomorrow."
You smiled up at him, a flutter of excitement dancing in your chest as you took in every detail of his rugged features—the subtle crinkle in the corner of his eyes, the hint of stubble along his jawline, and the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter in the light.
Your gaze lingered on his cowboy hat, and with a mischievous grin, you reached out to grab it, placing it atop your own head.
"Then you've got yourself a deal, cowboy."
#gifwriting#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencerreid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#cowboy spence
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Dragon's Offsprings
Tw/s: voyeurism, double penetrating, rough Zihao, breeding, inserting eggs(?)
Description: a drabble of the freaky Zihao
Pitter patter
The rain seems to never stop. It has been raining for almost 3 days straight. Despite the heavy rain, Liu Zihao would always travel the long way to the courthouse to work. The rain doesn't stop criminals from commiting crimes, it encourages them in a way. Though that doesn't include you who have been in the manor for a long month. You got used to this lifestyle a long time ago. Waking up whenever you want, going to bed whenever you want, having whatever food you wanted. The only restriction is that you are not allowed outside without Zihao being there by your side. It's not too bad, better than being chased all the time anyways.
Today's not too bad, at least so far. You're home alone, the chefs and maids having left as per your request. Despite being home alone, you can't escape, you've tried before and it's really no worth all that work just to be tracked down again in just a mere minute. Liu Zihao always knows where you are. You look at the clock which points at a quarter to 6pm. Usually Zihao's home for dinner around this time. Whatever, probably had more work to do today. You'll just eat dinner by yourself.
The aroma of delicious food floods your nose. Your eyes are drawn to the two plates placed on the table. You take one plate and start munching on food while sitting down. Even if it's a large yet quiet and empty house, you pay no mind to that as you've lived alone for a while before all this luxury. The steal is cooked just to your liking, it's juicy and delicious with the right amount of spices added to make sure it's not too salty yet not bland at all. After chewing on the steak, you take the fork and grab some pasta plates next to the steak. Twisting it and lifting the fork to your lips. It's creamy and flavourful, the saltiness and creamy flavour compliments each other very well. You enjoy the meal to the fullest in silence, enjoying every second.
You throw the empty and dirty plate in the sink, not bothering to wash it. Zihao will deal with it like he always does. No reason to waste your time with that. 'Now what do I do?' , you wonder to yourself while walking up the flight of stairs, heading to your bedroom. Oftentimes, your bed is also Zihao's bed. He loves cuddling up with you and just making sure you're within his grasp. "Agh", you plop face first onto the soft bed. For some reason, the atmosphere is off without Zihao. Usually by this time, he'd already be fucking you dumb until you pass out or get too tired to continue. You wouldnt ever admit it but it became a routine. Your body's gotten used to it and so have you. Because of this, you feel like you need to do something about this itching feeling you have.
"Ah...ngh", you moan, face flushed with a vibrating dildo deep in your hole. Your teeth's biting onto your lifted shirt, your dominant hand pushing and pulling the dildo in and out. "Z-Zihao..mm..!", you unconsciously moan out his name, your other hand now on your dick going up and down to stimulate yourself even more. No matter how much you stimulate yourself, you can't seem to cum. You need something bigger to please you. Usually you'd be ashamed to even think about Zihao let alone his two cocks but right now, as you're trying to chase your climax, it doesn't matter. "More...aagghh", you moan out even louder than before, not noticing the piercing purple eyes staring at your sweaty and horny figure from the top of the stairs.
You close your eyes, imagining it was Zihao inside you right now and not a silicone wannabe. "F-fuckk..!", you almost yell out, getting so close to cumming. When you hear footsteps close to where you are, you immediately freeze and look at who it is. Your ego instantly crushed, the embarrassment getting to you, hard. You reach over for the fluffy blanket only for it to be thrown at the wall and fall onto the floor by a mere gesture of Zihao's fingers. With another snap of his fingers, a comfortable chair appears infront of the bed. He sits with his legs crossed, head leaning on his hand which is cushioned on the chair. "Do continue", his expression remains unchanged, it's a plain expression, neither a smile nor frown, his eyes are relaxed but at the same time, they're demanding you to continue on your little action. Despite this, you remain frozen long enough for him to demand once more, "was I not clear? Continue your little activity, now.", it sends shivers down your spine, as if he's a predator and you're his prey.
Without a way out of this, you spread your legs and continue letting the dildo go in and out of you, each time faster and faster than before. Now with a pair of eyes watching you do this to yourself, it's embarrassing, you feel like crying due to how bad of a fall your ego took. Never in your life did you think you'd be putting on a show for anyone. "Ngh...", you try to cover your own voice, biting your lip to prevent your moans from getting too loud. This doesn't amuse Zihao at all. "Stop biting your lip", his voice alone makes your body shiver in fear. Reluctantly, you stop biting your lip, "a-ahh...aggh..", the pleasure overtaking your thoughts, in the heat of the moment, you blurt out: "Z-Zihao.."
Just one word. One singular word. That was enough for Zihao to widen his eyes and instantly get up, "that's enough.", he looks down on your figure which is laying on the bed, all prepped and ready to take his cocks and maybe something more.
In a blink of an eye, he pushes you to the bedframe as you are now sitting up, your back laying against the bedframe. He takes off his coat and throws it aside, not caring if it got dirty or wrinkled. "My mate can't even stand a few hours without me, how cute", he smiles a bit, blushing while you're up against the bedframe, horny and wanting him to be deep inside you already without so much yapping.
As if reading your mind, he grants you your wish and shoves his two hard cocks in your hole almost immediately after you thought about them. He guides your hands to wrap around his neck. Then, he holds the sides of your hips and begins to pound in and out of you, you cursing everytime it goes in. Thankfully, your hole is already lubricated, giving the cocks an easier time in fucking your hole. You feel so full but usually it takes Zihao a long long time to decide it's finally time to stop. His thrusts are rough, not in the slightest bit gentle. The bulge on your stomach is very much visible, it moves up and down your lower stomach in a fast pace. "Agh..m", he grunts and moans, feeling the tightness of your hole as you clench down, feeling close to cumming. Your moans get progressively louder by the second. Zihao makes sure it does by pounding even harder.
"Cu-cumming..! Aggghh", you moan loudly while cumming, the cum splurting all over your own body while Zihao is still pounding you. He's chasing his own climax. You feel overstimulated as he's pounding so roughly. It's a lot rougher than usual but you barely notice due to your brain being so foggy by this point. "You're ready to take my children, aren't you my dear mate?", he asks but it's more of a rhetorical question. Before you can answer his absurd question, you feel something being pushed into you, something big. Multiple of them. "Z-Zihao..ah, what's tha—aghh", you feel him cumming inside, his cum thicker and much more than usual. You don't notice it but the mark on your lower stomach started glowing for a mere 3 seconds before returning back to its solid purple color.
Zihao pulls out both his cocks yet despite that, your stomach still has a visible bulge. You feel so so full and not just because of his cum. "Zihao, what's inside me..?", you ask him, confused on what he put inside to make you look bloated. "Oh my dear, those are my eggs", your eyes widen immediately and you try to jump up or out the bed but he stops you, "we can't afford you getting hurt when you're carrying our children", he frowns and looks at you as if this is common knowledge. He's ready to take the role of the father of his kids and your one and only husband, but are you?
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There you have it freakies, you're now gon' lay eggs/hj
#male reader#bottom male reader#oc x reader#oc x male reader#x male reader#xin's liu zihao ☆#「 By the hands of Xin 」
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IM SORRY, but I need a whole smut fanfic with yandere ASMRtist where he just straight up fucks reader and posts it, and people like it
Even better if it was an accident! Although let me add a little disclaimer that this concept turned more BDSM-oriented than I initially planned, but it has no correlation whatsoever to ASMR. Just wanted to point it out because the community already struggles with the sexualization of content. The guy just happens to be kinky. Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, NSFW, BDSM themes (bondage, spanking, collaring, name-calling)
He’s doing his usual sound recording, yet today it a little different. You're particularly cheeky, kneeling before him, back arched and bottom up. The pillow is soaked with your drool, lips forcefully parted by a bit gag. You're a mess.
Today, he's particularly aroused by your hooded eyes and damp skin. No harm in taking a break from his work, is there? His hand lands another rough spank, followed by his fingers tracing across your privacy. It seems he isn't the only one terribly pent up.
He gives you a little encouraging jolt before clarifying with a spoken order: "Spread."
You obediently follow his instructions, eager to be touched by more than his hand. He grins at your visible excitement.
"My, what a greedy whore you're being today. You're still red and swollen from the spanking, are you sure you want me to do even more damage?"
He presses himself into you as if to prove his point, though the feeling of his throbbing erection really only makes matters worse. You nod desperately and groan.
Once he's done pounding the life out of you, he stands up nonchalantly and dusts off his hands, gazing at his masterpiece: you're sprawled onto the mattress, heaving, dripping with his seed. Another fruitful day of pleasing his Darling.
He quickly finishes the last retouches of the recorded ASMR session and uploads it to his channel, distracted by the thought of a potential second round.
"Don't get up", he demands from his chair. "I'm not done with you yet." Judging by your expression, however, it's not likely you had any other intention to begin with.
Later in the evening, he idly checks his phone, somewhat surprised by the sudden influx of views and comments.
"Wow, this is probably your longest video so far. You're spoiling us", someone writes.
"What's the stuff at the end? Sounds bizarrely wet, yet tingly", someone else wonders.
His smile abruptly pales as it dawns of him: he never stopped recording. In a moment of anger, he throws his phone into the nearest wall, and you stumble over, startled by the commotion.
Damn it! That was his special moment. He feels like he'd just fucked you before the masses. His precious time - meant to be savored - has been tainted by the ears of plebeians.
He marches towards the bedroom, pulling you after him by the little house collar you must wear inside. No matter, he tells himself frantically, he'll just have to redo it. He'll fuck you even better this time, and it'll be for him only.
[Yandere!ASMRtist Concept] | [More yandere works]
#y'all my partner wanted to take a photo of me to commemorate my bravery in writing “throbbing erection” 😭#there's no chill in this house#only relentless mockery#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere asmrtist#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere smut#smut
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≛ THE APPLE'S ROTTEN STRAIGHT TO THE CORE!
❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞
♪ ˚. THE BRAT CHALLENGE ♱ ⋆.˚
feat. drummer!abby x fem!reader x footballplayer!ellie
warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: switch!abby (kinda), jealousy, cheating, abby’s pierced nipples, reader desc. feminine, fingering, munch activities, toxicity ensuing, voyerisum, strap sex.
THE APPLE'S ROTTEN STRAIGHT TO THE CORE, ellie williams, sporting 88’ on the back of her jersey, the world renowned football player from the united states. the overly competitive blood runs through her veins, passed down from her father, just as well as an overpowering ego the size of texas. she has the girl of her dreams, the most important game of her life in sight, but what happens when one drummer threatens to wreck it all?
wc. 10k
It’s easy to feel safe and comfortable with her, slipping into a simple life. Traveling the world with your favorite soccer player, the auburn-haired five-foot-five of pure talent, as soon as her custom cleats step foot on the field.
When the crowd echoes chants of her name, the rumbling of the rowdy fans, aggressive shouts cursing the other team. With crushed beer cans, sunflower seeds are spat on the ground, and they are begging for a goal. The 88’ jersey was littered across the stands. Every fan in the arena went to see her, yet you aren’t here.
It was one of the biggest games of her career, and you would not be seen anywhere, especially after the past week. She doesn’t blame you; Ellie could only blame herself but needs her good luck charm. The events replaying in her mind, haunting her while she tries to get one wink of sleep, but the look of horror in your eyes, the shoulder check you left her with, green eyes pleading to reason with her, but you refused.
Let me know when you want to grow the fuck up and tell me what’s wrong with you.
The words running in her mind, haunting her as she sleeps at night, wondering if today is the day the stone will be unturned or if she’ll actually tell you everything bothering her. But she doesn’t. Never had she seen you like it; rage carries higher than the waves of a tsunami, and all of it, every drop of water, seems to be crashing over her.
Every drop of it suffocates her until there is no oxygen left to breathe.
When she gets home, she scours the apartment for a trace of you, yet half of your belongings are absent. Ellie starts to wonder if she’s pushed you too far this time. Always, she’s betted on you sticking around through thick and thin but maybe you finally had enough.
Has she pushed you too far? Are you too far out of reach? She has no choice but to let you drown with the devil itself, succumbing to your own needs for once, not hers.
The side of the closet holding your belongings was in disarray. Ellie could see that your favorite belongings were absent. All the sweaters, hoodies, hell, even the flannels you would steal from her were meticulously folded and placed in the corner.
Ellie thought you would give her the benefit of the doubt. She thought you would let her explain why she had taken the job offer without consoling you. Now, considering what she seems to be losing, there’s nothing she wishes for more than to take it all back.
Any success is so trivial if she has no one to celebrate it with, not without you.
From the very start, you’ve been right there by her side. From the very beginning, it wasn’t as picture-perfect as she imagined. The fairytale began with what she thought would be a never-ending love story.
Something so pure, it could never turn rotten.
—
Growing up on the outskirts of New York had its perks. The small town was busy, yet the countryside tucked an hour away gave you a sense of solitude. Entirely predictable suburbs, the cul-de-sac tucked in the back of the neighborhood reeks of disturbed suburbia.
Everyone knew everyone, and you knew Ellie.
You were ten the day the two of you became friends, and you’ll never forget it. Clumsily, you had just fallen off your bike, knees skidding by the concrete as the skin had been peeled, the wound viciously open.
“Did you fall—” the girl shakes her head at herself, curses flying into the wind. “Of course you did. God, so stupid.”
She continues talking to herself as you weep slightly in a pathetic manner. Affectionately, the mysterious girl who also happens to be riding her bike past the park in your neighborhood pats you gently on the shoulder.
“I'll be right back. Stay there. I'll be back. Promise.”
She disappears on her blue and red bike, red hair flying in any direction the wind takes, but returns just like she said — a girl of her word.
“Here, let me fix you.” She grabs the first-aid kid from the bucket on her bike. Ellie kneels on the ground. You notice her bright blue Converse with red laces, which match her bicycle perfectly.
“Yeah, okay—” you sniffle, wiping away your tears as the nice girl tends to your knee. “Thanks.”
She grabs the needed tools, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Well, I used to fix my dad all the time. He's a soccer player and gets hurt a lot.
You stay silent as she rambles on.
“One day, going to be just like him, but better. My old man got too old before he decided to be good. I'm going to be the best player ever.”
“I bet you will be.” your eyes find hers, the sun making them shine like an emerald diamond, just like the one your mom wears on her ring finger.
“My coach says I'm good already but tells me not to get my hopes up.”
You realize Ellie has already cleaned your wound; her small hand applies pressure with the gauze as he wraps it away. She's so concentrated but simultaneously rambles away about her dad, the last soccer game she played in, and jokes to get your mind off the pain.
“How does it feel?” Ellie asks, the corner of her lip upturns, a soft smile gracing her freckled, full cheeks.
“Better,” you thank her, smiling shyly. She observes you as you hop back on your bike, ensuring you aren't in pain. Curiously, her mind drifts to how cute you are, and she wonders why her stomach is in complete knots.
She confuses it for sickness.
“You’re welcome.” Ellie stretches the nape of her neck, and her short hair sticks to her skin from the heat. “I'm Ellie, by the way.”
“I know.” You offer your name as Ellie blushes, her cheeks tinted pink. The love you feel is etched right into her heart, and she feels it from the first moment your name is said.
In a cliche, obvious way, the rest was history.
The two of you were best friends until college, bringing out the best in you—platonic love blossoming into something sweet, a one-in-a-million love you can only hope to find in someone else.
The tricky thing? It works. The two of you fit better than you could have ever dreamed of. The incredible bliss of youth leaves your faith blinded, corrupted by the true love you have for Ellie. Oblivious to flaws, all you see is her. Assuring you follow her around like a lost puppy; anything she wants, she gets. The skeletons in the closet are no match for the two of you, each being dragged out one by one.
But not by either of you.
—
One Week earlier…
“Would you stop so we can talk about this?” Ellie nearly shouts at you, granting her another eye roll, she’s lost count on how many you’ve thrown at her since the two of you left the club. The longing looks, her wandering olive eyes on someone else all night, gawking at the muscles, making you feel envious of someone you couldn’t have.
Your girlfriend’s attention.
But this is all your fault, right?
“Talk about what? How you, Ellie, made a decision to make a life altering decision without me? Yeah, okay, let’s fucking talk.” You have a bite in your voice, one Ellie has rarely heard, the sweetness diluted with her consistent need to keep you in the dark. “Fucking talk, please. I’d love to hear the bullshit excuse you’re gonna give me.”
“Why are you making this a big deal? It’s my career, not yours.” You bite your tongue as the words leave your mouth. Instantly, you feel burned by the person who thought loved you more than anything. Even in the heat of the moment, you figured she would give you the benefit of the doubt, even when you’ve been blind sided by her teammates. All because she was too much of a coward to tell what she’s already done. “Right. Foolish of me to think we’re a team.”
Spitefully, you throw your belongings in your tote, ignoring when she tries to grab your wrist, dodging her quickly. She tries again but stops when you tell her to. The only boundary she leaves untouched it seems.
“We are a team.” Ellie tries to convince you, but you don’t budge. Not an inch of you believes the shit she’s spewing at you.
“Oh! Well, that’s a surprise to me. If we’re such a team, why don’t you tell me why you won’t have sex with me….for eight months?” You raise your eyebrows at her, giving her an opportunity to speak but she stays silent like she always does. “If we’re such a team, why did you accept a job offer on another continent without even giving me the respect to tell me about it before you accepted the offer?”
Ellie stays silent, finding the hardwood beneath her feet more interesting.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You change into something more comfortable, slamming the bathroom door shut as you do, gathering other toiletries, different necessities you would need for the next few weeks.
You find her sitting on the edge of the bed in tears, as much as you want to hug her and give her the comfort she probably needs, there’s no good will in your heart. As much as you love her, only the boiling anger can be found. Blistering frustration, the one someone has when their girlfriend won’t touch them, kiss them, or even warrant them the truth.
“I love you, okay? I just need to figure some things out.” Ellie pouts, eyebrows furrowed as she says enough to get you to look at her. She sees the tears threatening to spill over, but you won’t let them fall in front of her. Never have you liked crying in front of others. Just as if she was anyone else, you would wait until you were in private to lick your wounds. “I just need some time, I just don’t know what’s happening to me.”
But all sincerity is lost, all you see in front of you is lies and deceit. Someone backed in the corner with no way to manipulate their way out.
“Well…figure your shit out, Els. Right now? It doesn’t seem like you do.” You grab your bags, slipping your shoes on, “I’ve had enough for now. Let me know when you grow the fuck up and let me know what’s wrong with you.”
—
Still, your blood boiled from last week’s exchange, the venomous words crawling up your throat like bile, as if this wasn’t what she wanted, what she started. All of this had been her idea.
Time and time again, dismissive words found their way into your heart, making a home before you had enough time to catch them. Sure, committed and faithful, she says. Then, she does this, makes your decisions without consulting you, and scolds you for getting upset about it. You craved space, so you did what any rational person would.
Swiftly packed your bags and flew to the other side of the country.
The fresh feeling is still swarming through your head, and the lingering words are aimed at your heart with more impact than you could stand. When they were told, Ellie regretted them the second they left her heart-shaped lips. Yet she stands there as she analyzes your tense frame, avoiding her at all costs.
You leave her with a soft murmur: staying at a friend’s. What you neglect to mention is that your friend lives on the other side of the country, tucked away in the safety of New York. Luckily, the nightlife is an easy distraction and does its job.
Intentionally, the first few nights are spent drowning yourself in liquor, letting yourself be grinded on by other drunk girls until they buy you shots, walking up back in your hotel room alone — then the cycle repeats.
The tranquility of a life forgotten, the gift of Don Julio, so like anyone else, you chase it. The drinks are free, the girls flirting with you are prettier than you’d ever seen but maybe that’s just the loneliness eating you up from the inside out. Yet, you find yourself itching to venture beneath, allow yourself to drown in someone else. Was there black lace? Possibly white or navy green boxers underneath? But you couldn’t, and you won’t. The guilt would eat you alive.
You told yourself it was just a fight, but was it? It’s when the second thought seeped in, invading the pessimistic part of your brain and feeding into malicious tendencies. Maybe you do want this? Something new?
Someone who wasn’t Ellie.
The thought alone sends shivers down your spine; an agonizing dread fills you. Never had you ever been provoked to leave, but the longer the silence welcomes you with open arms, the more the affliction lingers.
No text. No calls. No voicemails. Nothing.
Part of you ached for resolution. Even if it meant a means to an end, you could somehow soothe the aching in your chest. On the seventh day, she reached out.
A lazy effort of a text — couldn’t even be bothered to call.
elsbaby: can we talk, baby? please.
Perhaps if it had been the day after, two, three, even four — you would have the compassion to empathize. When she comes crying a week later after she spewed the most severe insults you’ve ever heard come out of her mouth? Any need to reconnect has dissipated at the drop of a hat.
this is what you wanted.
It shouldn’t make you spiral, but it does. You end up at a show; a rock band takes center stage at The Wolfhouse, and upcoming musicians try to make a name for themselves. Sitting at the bar, letting the vibrations of the base and the thumping of the snare drum infiltrate
Solemnly tapping the beat of your healed boot to the beat of the drum, you take in the singer on the stage. Black raven-haired beauty with a prominent nose and beautiful lips. She made the stage her own as she worked every angle known to man.
A firm belief is settled in your heart and everyone in there. She was born to be up there. You were too entranced, enjoying the music too much along with the cocktail in your hand, and you didn’t even notice the blonde making her way up to you.
As soon as you felt someone next to you, the first thought in your mind was how hellbent you were to be left alone. Even if it physically put you in distress, fuck, you couldn’t even remember the last time Ellie and you went on a date. The last time she touched you, kissed you, fucked you within an inch of your life.
It’s a pathetic, good for nothing excuse.
The line of morality blurs whenever your eyes latch onto eyes so gray the blue almost fades into them. Gorgeous freckles scattered across her smooth cheeks like twinkling stars in the galaxy.
Slowly, she takes your figure in, examining you up and down before smirking. She says nothing to you as she orders a neat whiskey. She hands her silver credit card to the bartender, “and whatever she wants for the rest of the night.”
You think for a moment she’ll talk to you, but she winks before settling into a booth with four others who look oddly familiar. The rest of the night, you’re met with tranquility and the steady and skilled bump of the bass guitar. It reminded me of when you were young, ambitions were the only thing on your mind, and you were lost in the never-ending need to be someone. It’s when you still believe something is worth living for, more than beating your drum to someone else’s tune.
You sipped on three Mexican martinis throughout the night and got lost when you walked up to the bar. The beefy, muscular blonde was there to greet you. This time, you got a clear look at her. Her rugged and toned frame shows off her commitment to the gym.
Yet, her deep blue pools are more charming than you would like to admit. A delicate edge to her jawline pulls you in as you admire the septum ring decorating her freckled nose, the bump in her nose making you smile softly.
You’ve always loved a girl with an intense nose for many reasons.
Mouth-watering, luscious, bliss - are all the words coming into mind when you’re looking at her. She’s wearing as little clothing as you would expect someone who leans masculine to wear, but fuck does she know it works for her. Black leather vest worn in, eating you up from the inside out, the musky scent filled with mahogany and a dash of vanilla.
The mysterious blonde's lack of undershirt adorns her body and steals the show. Immediately, she commands attention in every conceivable way. As mesmerizing as the raven-haired beauty appears, you would pay a lot to see her front and center on that stage. The shape of her small breasts is the real show in your mind, and the broad and toned torso gives you much to gawk at.
Nearly, you salivate at the defined four-pack she’s sporting. A pretty enticing deep v disappears delectably into her black leather pants as if she’s a modern-day adonis but with divine feminine written all over her. Without one doubt in the world, she knows she’s the hottest piece of ass in this bar, and for some unknown reason, she’s made you her target for the night. Wined and dined you all night without saying more than a sentence to you, and it seems she’s here to collect.
In the forefront of your mind, you believe it’s to serve some self-serving action to get off from what’s between your thighs, the sweet treat every girl has chased in this long week, but your long-term commitment tying you down like handcuffs to the post of your bed Ellie has kept you in.
Petrifying you to your bones, you aren’t sure what to make of the thrill building up; you can’t deny the longer you look at her, the more your thighs rub together in sync with the other.
“So—” With her tall stature, decisively, she steps forward, lips pressing against your ear with her hot breath seeping under your skin, “Are you wet because you know who I am or because you can’t stop looking at my tits?”
“Who are you?” Your eyebrows quirked up, and you wondered why it was a factor. Was she someone you were supposed to know? Now that she said something, there was something familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. “Why would I have any idea who you are?”
Though your pussy has a heartbeat and seems to have a mind of its own. You forget about everything else when the woman gives you a toothy grin, which is too perfect.
“That’s cute, but see, everyone knows who I am—” Abby takes matters into her own hands and begins to nibble on the side of your neck, harshly biting and sucking lightly, taking in the taste of your skin as if she’s trying to find the perfect vein to puncture with her pointy canines. If it were the case, you’d let her suck the life out of you if you got to keep her to yourself for the night. “Don’t worry pretty girl, you’ll know by the end of the night.”
She’s passionately driven when her skilled lips and velvet tongue continue to make a mark on you as if you are hers to own, hers to please as she sees fit. You don’t even know her name, but the raging storm of lust isolates you within her honey trap. All of it feels too finite, everlasting, even if it’s just solid concrete to stand on for the night.
Then, you remember Ellie. The longing text sent to you, not even a call. The love of your life, or so you’d always hoped, couldn’t be bothered to call you this entire week. The fallout of an inconceivable aftermath only now did she try to reach out.
“Tell me why you’re soaking wet, baby girl.”
You try to push her back, but she doesn’t even move; her frame is too strong. Now, your warm, firm hand places itself on her defined abdomen, pressing against the clearly defined muscles.
You can’t deny how flushed you’ve become.
This time you are drooling; her thumb wipes away the liquid before she sucks it back into her mouth. Her grin is even more wicked, knowing she has you right where she wants to be.
It’s when you notice the mirrored scorpions, one on either side, her muscular biceps littered with tattoos, and the front of her neck — practically having fuck me written all over her.
You should leave.
You fucking should.
She has an appetite for something else, pulling you by the waistband of your pants, her finger securely wrapped around the belt buckle. Pelvis to pelvis, grinding against you swiftly to see how much you move, and the smile she’s wearing is satisfying enough.
She’s always liked them needy, messy, and so damn right horny they’re putty in her extensive and capable hands.
“I’m waiting.” Her hunger is evident in her tone. She is ready to relish her sudden craving, at least to you.
“I-I don’t even know your name,” you confess, hoping it will steer her away from you, but it’s a pathetic attempt.
“Abby. What else is your concern, babygirl?” Her knee sneaks between your legs, applying pressure to your cunt.
“I—” Almost with a soft thrust of her knee, Abby pushes against your cunt, damping her leather with a fucking desirable slick she’s dying to taste. Although it’s clear you like the chase, she gives it.
Had you had sex in the past eight months, you might have pushed away the overly cocky specimen, but it has been that long. Only making the patch in your panties grow as she teases your pussy.
Abby’s frame blocks anyone from seeing what she’s doing to you, your skirt riding up so much she can see the rounded cheeks slipping out, the black fabric slightly exposed under the bar's dim light. The more she presses, the faster your hips move against her.
Without a care in the world, you slid so far back, and you’re on her thigh, strong arms wrapped around you, whispering filthy nothings in your ear as you get yourself off on the stranger’s muscular body. If the bartender notices, she doesn’t mind. Pretends like you’re not even there. You’re not sure which is more embarrassing.
“Fuck, move those hips. Just like that, yeah.”
The high, the one you’ve wanted from your girlfriend who doesn’t even want to touch you, is so close. There’s a burn in your throat infused by sheer guilt that someone else will bring you to head. Some stranger you don’t know, one handsome stranger, yet when she pushes your panties to the side and thumbs your clit it’s so challenging to care about anyone but yourself.
You moan her name as she touches you, a skilled touch as she lightly pinches and soothes the sensitive bud. She completely enraptured you with the light touch she had to offer. Terrifyingly so, it shouldn’t affect you the way it does.
The look in her eyes would have sent you reeling. Her musky scent is already doing enough for you. You find yourself tangled in the webs of honeydew, suckling until you’ve had enough of the sweet sensation.
You’re just not sure how long it’ll be until you do.
“God, acting like you haven’t been fucked, baby. Such a dirty slut letting me do….well, whatever I want.”
Abby uses her free, dominant hand to guide your hips at a pace she sees fit. A thrill shoots down her spine as your incessant need grows like a flower at the dawn of spring—a tiny seed that is useless unless it bears root flourishing from where it’s planted.
“So, what’s it going to be?” Abby questions. A glimmer of assurance fills her ocean eyes. She was playfully biting your exposed shoulder blade.
“I can get you off right here, or you can come home with me.” the incredible sensation of her pierced muscling punching your skin with a chill, the stainless-steel ball adds a new sensation you weren’t expecting. She suckles and bites, marking you the more bruises as if she’s decorative for her enjoyment. “Or both. I think someone is close. I bet you’re ready to spill on my thigh. Wanna give me every last drop like the whore you are.”
“Your home?” you manage to spit out, trying to ignore the filth she spits, but it only brings you closer to your much-needed euphoric bliss. Abby’s efforts double over as if she’s fucked you before, bouncing her leg as as you ride her thigh, knowing exactly what you need to cum all over her.
Typically, the thread of your orgasm wouldn’t have been so easy to pull, but it seems she’s the one who placed it there in the first place. Months of not being touched left you in the hands of this Greek god who could make you feel whatever you wished for.
She’s cocky, confident, and the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen. Yet, the answer is still hard to find.
“Yeah, angel, my place.” You nod, unable to make a verbal confirmation.
“Gotta hear you say it.” Just then, the feeling that was bubbling spills over and all over her hand as she cups your cunt, thumb continuing to rub at your puffy clit.
“Yes, Yes, Yes.” you curse, chants of ecstasy fumble from your loose lips. Carelessly, you’re focused on the intense heartbeat between your legs, your body convulsing against her.
“What's that? M’not sure if I can wear you over your weeping cunt.” Repeatedly, Abby slaps your cunt as punishment.
“I-I want to, fuck, shit. Oh god, yes. I want to go home with you.” Your body slumps against her as she holds up your weight, and your high fades. Still, you feel blissful against her touch. Any other worry plaguing your mind dissipates, and all you think is her and strong muscles keeping you upright.
“Good girl,” she whispers before paying off the tab and putting the lace material pack in place. You feel the white liquid stick to you, filthy, resting against you—the once taintless fabric coated with the pleasures of your sin. Dizzy, unsteady, breathless — it’s everything you feel.
She thrives on knowing you need her. Even if it’s for tonight, the purpose will be served. Regardless of what she needs, this will be even more of a thrill, and the only thing she uses is her hand—not even her dominant one.
Abby moves your skirt down so your ass is covered again. “C’mon, pretty girl. let’s see how much of a slut you are." She leads you outside while she makes quick work of her phone, and suddenly, there’s a sleek black car, a Cadillac, you assume, with a driver in tow. The windows are tinted enough for you to wonder if it’s even legal. Silver rims, with a diamond emblem in the center shining so bright under the moonlight that it nearly takes your attention from the woman who has you in her grip.
“Last chance? I can have her drive you home.” She smirks, knowing you won’t take the out that’s being so generously given. Perfect, beautiful, she thinks, eyes still dilated from you getting off on her thing and the continuous swipe of the pad of her thumb.
It’s there. The smidge of penance you feel you’re obligated to ask for. Regardless of how amazing it feels, there’s something about the ending. This will be the end of all fuck ups; maybe, there’s still hope for the two of you if you go home. Call Ellie in the morning before the need to suppress the shame.
But don’t you deserve this one thing for yourself?
Everything under the sun has been for the auburn-haired beauty who has held your heart from the moment she patched up your bleeding knee. The moment a total stranger managed to win your heart, an adolescent love that knew nothing of the lesson of heartbreak or the years you chased after Ellie while she was chasing others.
How she let her feelings hover over the friendship of years with no consequence, especially after her long-term high school girlfriend, the one whose heart she broke into a tiny million pieces. Tragically, there still stood an existing fear for you. She was just a kid, but would she move on as quickly now as she did back then? It was as if they meant nothing to her, moving from the next one as if the time spent together had been insignificant, meaningless, just an ease to pass the misery of time.
You feared you would be the same.
Falling under the same umbrella, but you hope you are different. There were talks of marriage and settling into the countryside once she could retire. A shared dream, you thought. Perhaps it was a foolish sin to keep close to your heart.
Then there was Abby, a heavenly distraction from all the dread waiting for you. Everything you must pick back up eventually if you want to stay tucked into the nightlife of New York is just your dreams hanging up on the shelf, totting away with the relationship. An expiration date was labeled on the two of you, and an impending doom you could only fall through.
Everything was always for her.
Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.
“What’s it going to be, princess?” She pulled you towards as she spun you around with ease, back pulled to her chest, her lips kissing your ear. All you could focus on was how strong she felt. Her strong hold bending you to her will wouldn’t be a challenge. If she wanted to, she could do whatever she liked. You are sure no isn’t a word she’s used to hearing.
But it went further than just how she looks.
It’s in the way she doesn’t even have to lift a finger to have you hooked on her. It entices you, thinking about how long she’d been staring at you all night. The curve of your ass in your tight, little skirt — was she staring at it? Did she think about all the ways she could fuck your perfect little hole if you would let her do everything she’d been thinking of? The way your hardened nipples poked through your mesh top. If she said anything, you could blame it on the draft, not just her sheer presence making them protrude through the fabric.
She did no work whatsoever to make you cum, letting you use her to get yourself off. There was an ease to it. One you hadn’t experienced before.
Here she is, using it against you again.
“Am I coming in the car with you, or will you rub your clit, alone, wishing you’d let me fuck you in all the ways I’ve been dreaming?” Her hands sneak under the lace, pinching your nipples between her thumb and forefinger, enjoying the way your hips buck up, aching to be touched by her again.
“Just give in, baby. I know you want to.” Her dominant hand abandons your nipple, leaving the other to tease it. While she escapes underneath your skirt once again, “So wet for me already, huh?” Harshly, she grips your cunt, a finger sliding up your slit, but she’s intentional about not letting it slip in.
“I-I shouldn’t, shit, oh my g—” You try to think of an excuse, one good enough to convince yourself you should not go through with this. “I really shouldn’t.”
“And?” Abby’s canines dig into the side of your neck as she teasingly bites the flesh, soothing it with a velvet tongue, making more marks on the side she hadn’t touched tonight. “Are you taken?”
“That’s a complicated question.” Abby grins at your response with a sinister smirk.
“Well, if she’s not making you happy, let me do it for her.” Abby tilts your jaw, forcing you to gaze at her.
“Let me guess, no one has touched this perfect pussy in a long time. So, fucking neglected, huh?”
“I didn’t say I had a—”
“It doesn’t matter to me.” Your pussy dripping with shame at her words.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” You admit. Abby continues to torture you with the split of your slit, the two of you starting to draw attention, but you think it just excites her even more. “I haven’t felt—”
The moment you say the words, Abby spins you around. You whine at her touch leaving your pussy, but she makes up for it slightly when her hands palm your ass. “Tell me. Look me in my eyes, baby, and tell me what you need. I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”
Your hands weave themselves into her golden locks. You are intertwined with the waves that disguise themselves as shimmering waterfalls. But you look down as you try to think of some excuse to leave and make yourself leave with dignity.
Big mistake.
The happy trail, the blonde hair travels inside her pants, leaving you in awe underneath the moonlight. Abby’s leather vest pushed off slightly, her tits still covered with black pasties.
“Why don’t you take them off? Wanna see my pretty tits, baby?” You nod with too much eagerness. Abby chuckles.
She watches with a smirk as you take them off. The silver, shining barbell has you moan at the sight of them—the sight of her. Smudged black eyeliner makes her appear even more irresistible, hooded eyes gazing at you; a gentle hand finds your throat, applying pressure with her thumb, constraining your breathing slightly.
“Fuck, they are perfect.” You confess, your eyes gleaming at her pink nipples exposed before meeting with her eyes once again.
“Yeah, they are, but they would look even better with your pretty lips around them.”
She will not give up.
“This is such a bad idea.” Abby knows your mind is made up, and you’ll come home with her. Even if the guilt swarms like a bee to a honey hive, it’s all the same to her. “But, God, you’re so fucking hot.”
Your hands roam her toned, tattooed torso, the scorpions so delicious you want to outline every detail with your tongue. The thought of being strong has worn off—only the woman before you is on your mind.
“Well, to me, it seems you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” Fingertips grazing her tits, her nipple hardening underneath you touch. “I’ll let you do whatever you want after I’m done with you. Well, if you still have the energy.”
A grumbling of frustration leaves your lips — you aren’t sure if it’s a desperate plea, a sigh of relief, or something else entirely.
“Like what?” You can’t stop touching her breasts, continuing to tease her pink nipple, but you meet her eyes. Abby’s positive you’ve never seen a smirk so wide.
“What do you like?” Abby pushes your hair back, fuck me eyes looking up at her. The ones that hadn’t left from the moment you laid eyes on her. She leans down just a little so her lips are pressed against your ear, “Do you wanna fuck my ass? Want me to sit on your gorgeous face while you eat me out? Fuck me in front of the mirror and watch my face when I cum?”
Grabbing your hair, she yanks it. Exposing the expanse of your neck. She’s grown so fond of marking. The slick between her thighs continued to blossom as you let her do whatever the hell she wanted. Like a whimpering bitch in heat, you took everything she had to offer.
Fuck it.
You cradle her face with her palms, smashing her lips to yours. It’s all tongue and teeth. Rough palms squeezing your ass, making you grind into her again. Your force casually lets her stumble into the car but you don’t let up. Whimpering and moaning into her mouth like there’s no tomorrow, as if this moment will slip right through your fingers.
Her breath smells of fresh mint, her tongue casually dominates yours, staking claim to what she already believes to be hers. It’s then you realize your forever doomed because you feel the fluttering in your stomach as she growls in your mouth, animalistic — your pelvis grinding against her much more defined one.
You pull apart for one moment, unable to take one more moment away from her.
If you don’t get it, her tongue, her cunt, those pretty fingers decorated in silver jewelry, hell, you would settle for her pierced nipples rubbing against your clit.
“Abby?” She stops, opening her eyes to see you. You’re even more fucked out than she is. “Yes, baby?” She hums into your mouth, the sweet sensation vibrating your entire body.
“Let’s stop giving everyone a show and give me one.” Abby nods, the first sign of her eagerness as she opens the door for you, unable to keep her hands off you.
“We better go before you soak my car then, hm?” She slaps your ass as she leads you in.
—
As she has you in tow, hand in yours leading you towards the elevator in her building, the most luxurious one you’ve seen, one so high you’re sure it’s the highest in the skyline of New York City.
It isn’t surprising she has her own driver, or she lives in the penthouse of the building, even the plaques decorating the wall — a shrine to her evident success. Everything just…makes sense. Yet there’s a pit in your stomach, crawling and feasting. It's swarming within you, a nagging incessant fly buzzing around warning you to run. You don’t have much time to think about how horrible of an idea this is.
Alone with someone who could easily overpower you, at the mercy of a complete stranger yet when she puts her arms around your waist, all of it seems to melt away. She’s given you no reason not to trust her. You’re just thinking too much.
That’s all it is.
The little voice chants in your head, trying to make excuses for yourself as to not go through with this but they dissipate when her calloused palms find home on your waist. Soothing over your delicate skin, enticing you into her impenetrable web. Everything about her intoxicates you. Making every thought vacant your head, even more so when she starts playing with the hem of your skirt.
“Let me get you a drink.” She kisses your temple before going behind the makeshift bar in the dining room. An assortment of every liquor component known behind her. Part of you thinks she’s doing it for show, the way her biceps flex as she shakes the drink in the silver canister, pointingly making the drink you’d been ordering all night long.
So, she had been watching you all night. You knew if she wasn’t as hot as she is, you’d be creeped out. But it’s hard to be creeped out when she’s still shirtless, the black leather vest doing very little to cover her. Any time she moves you see her pink pierced nipples, nearly making you salivate.
With the Mexican martini in her grip, with her own in the other, you’re stuck. You didn’t think she’d actually want to have a conversation with you. Leading you out to the balcony, almost the entire view of the city before your very eyes, practically causing you to freeze in your footsteps.
“Wow.” Unable to conceal it, you voice your immediate awe. Abby chuckles, the first sign of sincerity you’ve seen all night. Everything else only seemed as a woman trying to get a needed fuck but right now but she hasn’t even tried to even so much as kiss you. Taking small sips of her whiskey, hip touching yours as the moonlight reflects from the water to her blue eyes, nearly as vivid as the moon itself.
“Yeah, it’s quite a view, think it’s the only thing keeping me coming back here. I’m on the road so much, it’s nice to have some stability.” Abby smiles softly, the confession tumbling from her lips before she can catch it. ”A pretty penny for me to keep it but it’s worth it.”
“Is this your move then?” You know the martini is doing the talking for you, if not you’d be a mumbling mess unable to form one sentence that even sounds remotely coherent. Abby quirks one of her blonde eyebrows upwards but keeps her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue. “Is this what you do with everyone?”
Abby takes a step closer to you, giving you all her attention. She plays with the chain on your neck, pulling it lightly to bring you closer to her. Carefully eyeing you up and down, smirking as she does, “Do you want the truth or do you want me to lie like I do with everyone else?”
It’s more than you expected her to offer. A careless lie would have suited her more. If there is one thing you know for sure, Abby could get anyone she wants and she wouldn’t have brought you here if she didn’t want you to be here.
“Are you capable of the truth? M’not sure you are.” For once, Abby is a bit silent. Carefully, she contemplates on what to say next. She isn’t sure what she should say. Usually she’s the one laying the honey traps for the swarming bees but right now? Abby feels like the control is slipping from her grip.
She can’t have that.
“Which one is going to make that guilt easier on your conscience?” Abby smirks as the shame fills your eyes. “It’s a girlfriend, isn’t it? It always is.” Anyone else would take two steps back, maybe even see themselves out but you want to prove a point.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The immediate rejection of your very real girlfriend fills you with even more shame than you know what to do with. Abby chuckles at the omission, the way your voice shrieks out the statement with a sense of urgency. A desperate action to cover the truth. “Sure you don’t.”
“I’m telling the truth!” Your voice raises as you lean into Abby, her firm hands on your waist as you both face each other. Abby nods, tongue poking through her cheek, pulling at your necklace once again. Admiring the curve in the E, the gold chain shining. It’s a pretty necklace, probably one your girlfriend gave you but Abby makes no comment of it.
“Yeah, okay, and I hate pussy.” Abby giggles. You think it’s so cute, it shouldn’t even be funny, but it is. Just like earlier in the night, you’re so close to her, nothing as slim as a sheet of paper could fit in between the two of you. Without even thinking about it, you rest your hand on her abdomen again, her strength tangible as you feel her up once again. Truly, you’re unable to stop touching her. Every part of you wants this to happen, even if it comes back to bite you in the ass, the curiosity and your fluttering cunt can’t really think of anything else.
“You can still walk out that door. Just say the word and my driver will take you home.” Abby whispers into the busy street beneath you, it’s so faint from the distance but the two of you can hear it. “Or you can let me slide your pretty little skirt up and let me make a slut of you, babygirl.”
Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it’s your throbbing clit, maybe it’s the lack of contact in months, most of all maybe it’s the fact Ellie took so long to reach out, but you give in. Throwing your arms around her neck, pulling her lips to yours, regardless of the possible consequence looming after you, threatening to tear apart the picture perfect life you thought you’re living.
All of it happens in a blink of an eye. Abby’s tongue staking claim, dominating in ways you didn’t know were possible before she’s pushing your front against the balcony, placing your hand on the railing. With ease, she maneuvers your body in just the way she wants. “Gotta tell me yes pretty girl, that’s the only way this is going to start.”
Facing the view, the buzzing city filled with nightlife and wonder, endless possibilities on your fingertips but you’re thinking about her hands. How much you want them inside you, fucking you full, or the strap in her pants you’d be rubbing against earlier. The thoughts of her slipping her cock inside you, claiming you in a way no one has in awhile. Making you feel wanted, needed, even if it was a fleeting feeling just for the night. You deserve it. Just one, stupid, decision — you were owed at least one.
“Yes, s’what I want. You.” That’s all it takes before Abby pushes your skirt to your waist, sliding off your panties as she allows you to step out of them.
“Are you sure?” Abby questions you. She pushes off from you, you hear her zipper being brought down as you look back at her, her vest being chucked to the lawn chair by the pool.
Fuck.
If she’s even half as good as she’s claiming to be, you are so fucked.
“I’m sure.”
Abby wraps her hands around your waist again, hands dipping under your shirt as she squeezes your breasts, teasing your hard nipples with her fingers. You sigh instantly, loving the stimulation she’s providing. You feel the barrel of her tongue piercing as she lightly sucks behind the sweet spot behind your ear, as if Abby's the one to place it there in the first place.
“Good.” Abby teases your entrance with her cock, your body shuddering as it slides over your folds, using your slick as lubricant. Already, you’re grinding against her, just like before as she guides your hips in the pace she likes. “Do you like getting off on my cock, baby?”
“Mhm, yeah, I do.” It’s all but a whisper. Abby still hears you speak, slapping your ass playfully, blunt fingers digging into the skin. She can’t believe anyone not wanting to touch you, not wanting to make you feel good. You’re the hottest person she’s ever fucking seen. Your ass, your tits, the moans spilling from your mouth, it’s been in her filthiest dreams.
“What about now?” Abby lets her cock slip inside you, stretching out your walls as you take everything she has to offer. It’s been so long since you’ve been filled like this, your cunt greedily taking every inch has she slides in further and further. With a tight grip, you hold onto the railing as she thrust with her strong hips forward, your back arching so deep as she places her hand on your lower back, forcing the bend.
“Oh…” Abby grins at your desperate moans, “You really do know how to be a good girl and take it.” Her name falls from your lips like a stuttering prayer, as if she’s the god you’re praising at the altar. With each thrust, Abby back more of her strength into, packing a powerful punch to your cunt. Pulling at the strings, already making you see stars as you take from the angle.
“Fuck!” With no warning, Abby pulls at your hair, your body conforming to her will. She could do as she pleased and you would let her. You wonder if you even had a chance or if this is what was meant to be. Her speed grows rapidly, your stomach doing flips as she penetrates you, fucking you until you’re irrevocably spent.
“See? You’re just a whore. My whore. Got you cock drunk for me. Don’t I?” Abby thumbs with your clit, making you see stars. Lost in the effortlessness of her actions, calloused fingers playing you like her drums set. With ease, from memory she pulled out a performance, just like she did at every show, aiming to please her audience.
“Do you—” Abby draws circles on your puffy clit, your growl as you attempt to push through your words. “Shit, I’m—”
“Hm?” You hear it, the sound of your cunt being fucked blending into the busy street, her hands pulling you on her cock over and over. “Didn’t think I’d take it easy on you now, did you?”
“I just didn’t think you’d actually feel this good.” With one particular hard thrust, Abby has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your body begins to shake at her ministrations.
“We’re just getting started but I wanna see that gorgeous face.” She pulls out of you as she sits on the nearest lawn chair, “Hop back on, babygirl, s’all yours to use.” You remove the rest of your clothes, the E chain the only thing adorning your body.
Messily, Abby spits on her large palm, mixing your slick coating her cock making sure she’d be nice and ready for you to slide right back on. You grip her soft, freckled shoulders as she helps guide you, her blue eyes darkening as she sees the bliss written all over your face. Sinking on her cock is a sight Abby wants to replay in her mind, the high pitched moan that releases from your body is food for her soul.
“Fuck yourself on me, babygirl. Mhm, show me how much you need it.” You lean her forehead against yours, look in her beautiful blues, feeling a strange sense of intimacy as she fucks hours brains out. Abby likes the fact you have no idea who she is but you’re riding her like no tomorrow.
When you start bouncing on her cock, Abby loses all coherent thought. Your not so subtle bounce of your tits, she loves them so much she cranes her neck to suck on your nipples, her tongue piercing adding a new sensation, unable to stop your pussy from gushing around her.
“Does your girlfriend fuck you like this? Mhm, I don’t think so. My sweet babygirl, so frustrated, and all you need is some good fucking cock, huh?”
“All I need is you.” Abby thrusts her hips into you, her heavily ring hand slips her pinky ring off, the shimmering gold is placed on your clit, your body jerking from someone so cold on your throbbing bundle of nerves.
“Since you can’t feel the little ball on my tongue right now, I suppose this will have to do.”
“Is that so, baby? Need me?” Abby glances over your shoulder before looking back at you, before she continuously meets the roll of your hips with her thrusts. “Dirty fucking slut, so horny for your cunt to be fucked properly. It’s why you came out tonight, why you got off on my thigh at the bar, why you couldn’t stop looking at me, s’why your hands have been over me all fucking night.”
“Abby, shit, keep talking like that.”
“Hm, you like when I call you my dirty slut? When I tell you how needy you are for me? Bet you would have let me bend you over the bar and fucked you right there.” You’re groaning, you scream her name so loudly, Abby can’t help but grin with a sinister smirk.
“Yes, would let you do anything.” Abby hums approvingly, the cool sensation of her diamond encrusted ring doing wonders to bring you over the edge, “Please, don’t stop. Don’t ever—”
One particular hard thrust has Abby wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you up as your body nearly becomes deadweight, her head making home on your shoulder. It’s when she steps into the light, met with Abby’s darkness. The night she had perfectly curated to fully benefit her, the strategic planning of a rotten apple, split right down the middle when push came to shove.
—
Three Months Prior…
“You said you would tell her.” The frustration written all over Abby’s face, her voice only raising an octave higher. Abby has never been so disgusted with herself, stopping so low, thinking she would get chosen over the long term girlfriend.
Stupid.
“I know what I said. I’m telling you, I can’t.” Ellie pinches the bridge of her button nose, trying to concentrate as Abby makes no move to do anything else but continue to fuck Ellie’s cunt.
“Oh no?” Abby slips a third finger in her pussy as she shoves her face between her slender thighs. “You don’t wanna tell her why you won’t fuck her anymore? All the light night calls with your manager are flights to come to my penthouse and get your pussy fucked out?”
Her tongue dips into Ellie’s pussy, she flattens her pierced tongue, the cool golden ball adding stimulation to the weeping woman’s clit, her body jerking at the action. “She’s too fucking good for you.” The speed of the bigger girl’s fingers send Ellie into godspeed, flirting with another dimension as she allows Abby to play tricks on her pussy.
The reason she comes back, no one makes her cum like she does, not even you. Abby wants more but Ellie refuses to give it, not willing to leave you even if you know what she’s been doing, all the lies she’s told in order to fuck Abby, you’d never look her way again. “She can't do this though? It’s why you keep coming back, you need my fingers stuffed in your pussy.” Abby’s fingers are reaching so deep, kissing Ellie’s cervix as she grips onto her wrist, bucking her hips up into the rockstar’s fingers.
“Maybe I should give them to her instead. I’m sure she would be more grateful.” Abby spits sloppily on Ellie’s pussy, kitten licking her clit until she sucks it in her mouth, tongue rapidly flicking over her bundle of nerves. Abby tsks, “Selfish slut, cum on daddy’s tongue like you fucking mean it.”
Like the greedy whore she is, Ellie squirts into Abby’s mouth and the blonde doesn’t waste a single moment, she slurps obnoxiously on Ellie’s cunt. “Fucking whore.” Her tongue flattens as he licks from her puckered hole to her clit, every drop dispersing into mouth.
Ellie’s entire body shakes, barely registering when Ellie throws on a robe, leaving it open and she lights up a cigarette on the balcony of her bedroom. Ellie whines for Abby.
“This was the last time.” With a flip of a switch, Abby’s tone changes, her cunt with her blonde pubes making her pussy appear even more irresistible, all she wanted was to get on her knees for Abby, repay the favor but the stoic look on her face tells her she won’t be getting anywhere near her tonight.
She exhales a puff of smoke, her sun kissed skin reflecting off the moonlight, every defined line of muscle making her even more beautiful. “But why? Did you suddenly grow a conscience?”
“No but I’m not interested in being someone’s side piece. I’m the main fucking show.” Abby shrugs her shoulders matter of factly, “Show yourself out, Williams.”
—
The memory flashes before Abby’s eyes, she’s sure it’s crossing Ellie’s mind, her worst nightmare playing in front of her. Her girlfriend, screaming her mistress’s name, as she clings onto Abby like a second life line. The look of horror in her emerald eyes, she would know your body everywhere, it’s you.
“All mine, my pretty pussy baby, m’babygirl gonna cum soon? yeah? can you do that for me?” Every word spoken was salt in the wound, smearing in as Ellie stood frozen still. The text was deliberately sent tonight for her own demise. Using Ellie’s needy nature against her, but it seems someone else was quite needy, but fuck was she prettier.
Ellie is a fucking idiot, Abby thought.
Knowing how much she loved it, Abby brought her finger to her mouth, sucking on the digit, then she teases your puckered hole and you’re begging to convulse. Letting yourself be held by Abby, but your hips don’t stop moving.
No.
You’re fucking yourself even harder on her.
“Mommy, please? Make me cum, fuck, need to cum all over your cock. Gonna dump her for you, please. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” With her finger only slightly slipping into your ass, you see pull on her golden waves, allowing yourself to slip into the hold of rotten intentions. Ellie has seen enough as she slams the door on her way out but you’re too fucked out to even clock it.
“Good girl. Let it go. Mommy’s got you. Mhm, give it all to me, baby.” When she’s don’t fucking you into another dimension, Abby lays back on the chair, feeling quite satisfied with her successful plot of revenge.
Even better, she has you.
You fall on top of her, still stuffed full, when she finds sucking on her nipples. Your tongue toying with the barbell, pushing and pulling as Abby takes a sharp intake of breath.
“Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all night.” You giggle lightly, Abby drawing random patterns on your exposed back. She doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt as she lets you suck on her tits, marking her porcelain skin. You’re already more of a giver than Ellie, she smiles at the thought.
“Don’t have to apologize. Never going to say no to a beautiful girl sucking my tits.”
She’s entirely mesmerized by you, in ways she hasn’t been before. Truthfully, she almost came from seeing you cum. Never in her life has someone brought her so close without having her pussy in their mouth. “Do you want the driver to take you home or do you want to go for round two? I’d like to fuck you on my bed, feel your dripping cunt on mine, make you forget about that pathetic girlfriend of yours.”
You forget she’s still inside you because you sit up fully and you’re moaning, again.
“I’d like that but let me give you another ride, yeah?”
Unbeknownst to you, the rotten apple lays beneath you, the same E chain hidden beneath the countless chains adorning her neck but sometimes they can taste just as divine as the sweet one. Sour or sweet? That’s for you to decide.
Bloody, intentional, reckless — Abby Anderson has brought it all.
Showing Ellie just how sweet something rotten could really be if preserved for someone else.
reblogs and extra thots are appreciated! hope you enjoyed ♡
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Always There
Agatha Harkness x Vampire!Reader x Rio Vidal
Word count: 4.9k
Notes: Non-major character death, depictions of violence, graphic violent content (blood, mob violence/torture, detailed wounds), angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, small mention of suicial tendencies, italics=past
Summary: Vampire reader has had a casual relationship with Agatha and Rio, but eventually too many years pass since their last encounter, the vampire starts to wonder if they still cared for her.
An: Posting this immediately after I finished writing it. Hope you enjoy. Likes, replies, reblogs, and all of that are appreciated 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️ Edit: Not me saying itallics and forgetting to actually put them lol
Masterlist
You’ve had a casual fling with Agatha and Rio for as long as you can recall. There’s a stereotype about witches coming and going as they please, and you find it to be frustratingly true.
It's easier to get ahold of Rio than Agatha, which is ironic considering that Rio is literally Death. With the title comes the job, so all you truly needed to get a glimpse of her was a body. Perhaps you could arrange the carcasses in a way that said ‘stay with me forever’.
As a vampire, you had time to wait. There was no rush, which is how you believe things got so casual. You could never forget how you met the pair.
At the time angry mobs were running rampant, looking for anyone to persecute. You were a known vampire living not to far from a village. They hunted you for sport. There were many of them that you killed, but eventually they were able to ambush you. When they did, they used wooden spikes to pin you to a large ‘X’ that they built. The scars from were they impaled your flesh still present today.
They tortured you; punching, spitting, stabbing, you had eventually lost track of time after a few hours. The need for blood weakening you enough to where breaking free was nearly impossible.
They’d come in shifts for the torture and leave only one person to watch you in the night. That was their only flaw. You didn’t expect anyone outside of the village to come across you, but someone did.
Your head was hung low, when you heard the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. You raised it slightly, to see the guard that was supposed to be watching you, dead on the floor.
“You don’t look too well.”
It had been days since you had tried to speak, so your voice was hoarse, “I wouldn’t think so.”
“What are you? Only someone different, is worth all of this trouble,” a different voice spoke.
Your eyes look to where the voices are coming from, but you only see shadows. Your tongue is dry as it passes over your bloody chapped lips.
“Vampire,” you mumbled.
“Help me get her down.”
When they approached, you finally got a good look at them. You couldn’t help but stare at their features. Both youthful with rosy cheeks. Rio’s large brown eyes caught your attention immediately, warm yet hiding something. Agatha’s features were sharper, her cheekbones, her jawline, even her eyes.
“This will hurt,” Rio examined the wood embedded into your skin.
“I know,” you spoke weakly.
You expected them to pull the spikes out with their hands. Instead your eyebrows furrowed when purple and green tendrils of magic worked around the spikes. Instead of 4, painfully slow, agonizing moments, there was only one rough pull, before your body fell off of the ‘X’. Only your knees hit ground as Agatha and Rio held up the rest of your body.
Your full weight pushed against them as your head rested in between their shoulders, “Thank you.”
“Hungry?”
Your eyes glowed a dim red, “I could drain a village.”
“Bloodthirsty, even in this state?” Agatha teased.
“Especially in this state,” you corrected.
You could hardly move, but you attempted to stand on your unstable legs. You grunted in pain as you put one foot in front of the other. Your focus was on the dead guard. His heart was no longer beating, but blood still filled his veins. It was calling to you, it had been too long since you had fed.
Your fangs snack into the man’s neck viciously. You had no remorse for the corpse as his body began to lose color as you drank. He wasn’t a large man, which was unfortunate, but he sufficed for the moment.
Harsh breaths and clearing of your throat, were indicators of how much you needed that. You wiped the blood off of your mouth with the back of your hand.
Your wounds were slowly closing, but it was taking all of the energy you had just gained.
“I can heal you faster,” Rio said tentatively grabbing your forearm.
She extended it so that it’s flat, before quickly running her tongue over the spot. You looked at her as if she was crazy, but then back at your wrist. The hole from the stake was gone, in its place was only a scar.
If you had a pulse, you were sure that it would be beating wildly.
You glanced at Agatha, who watched on, “Do you do that too?”
She shook her head, “Earth witch specialty.”
“How long did they have you like that?” Rio’s eyes have examined your body, noticing the extensive damage. Her finger trailed one of the nastier slashes across your stomach.
“I don't recall,” you spoke honestly.
Rio was careful as she healed the larger wounds on your body, you told her not to worry about the less significant ones. Even when she was done you were still caked in dirt and mostly your own blood.
“Let me help you out doll,” Agatha waved her fingers swiftly, and soon you were clean as a whistle.
Your tattered clothes replaced as if they were new, dirt and blood alike removed from your body. Ugly scars, now covered except for the few that littered your face.
“Why help me? We are only strangers, I don’t even know your names.”
“Abominations to humanity must stick together lest we want them to wipe every one of us out . You can call me Rio.”
“Agatha Harkness, pleasure to save you beautiful.”
One of your eyebrows raised, “Witch killer, Agatha Harkness?”
The woman chuckled, “I see my reputation supersedes my community. Does my aura scare you…”
“Y/n, and it does not. There are no rules when it comes to preservation of self. I’ve killed my own kind for good reasons and some not so good reasons. Bodies just seem to pile up when I’m around.”
“That why they nail you up like that?” Rio questioned.
You shrugged, “I suppose, a mixture of that and fear.”
“People fear death,” she spoke.
You shook your head as you corrected her, “Mortals fear death. I know people who are thousands of years old, who run from ailments of morality. They are foolish, death cannot be outran. Though it may take longer for her to come, she will eventually get all of us.”
“You aren’t afraid to die?” Agatha questioned you.
“No, there’s no point. She’ll come for me when it’s my time, but until then what is there to fear besides a wasted life.”
Rio had a small smile on her face, “Quite the philosophy you’ve fostered. Just one question, if you feel that way, then why kill anyone in the first place?”
It was your turn to chuckle, “If someone was meant to live, they simply would. I’m not stealing life, simply gifting death to those who have decided that it is their time.”
“How do you know that they’ve decided?” Agatha counters.
“Well you see, many people are weary of vampires and they should be. They let their guard down, they get comfortable, they play with their food instead of finishing the job. Those actions have consequences and I like to deal with those consequences personally. So I suppose when they choose to wrong me, they’ve chosen to die.”
“And the villagers who did this to you?” Rio pondered aloud.
You eyed her cautiously, “Do you stand to stop me?”
Rio shook her head, “I keep a witch killer in my company, you think I’m above a rightfully earned massacre?”
“Well you spoke of solidarity amongst-”
“Think of it this way, we can do what we want amongst each other, as it is our business. The humans have no right, to do what we do.”
You nod, “I agree.”
“So, you’re going to destroy the village?” Agatha questioned.
“My goal is to drain every last one.”
After that first encounter you were drunk on the thought alone of Agatha and Rio. Finding out Rio's true identity only made you lust for her even more. You knew that both had bonded with each other in ways you hadn’t understood, but that didn't stop your feelings from developing.
It didn't take long for them to fold you into their relationship, at least partially. They weren’t always around, but when they were everything seemed to fall back into place.
However, you’d be lying if you said you hadn't been getting restless these last few years. It was feeling like you saw less of them, especially Agatha. It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Somehow you had ended up chasing after them.
Tonight you walk the streets bored, part of you looking for trouble. Rumblings of new age vampire hunters in the area had piqued your interest. So you’d have a chance to have some fun or at minimum find your next meal.
Your fingers play with the rings they had gifted you, centuries ago. In the past you could feel both of them signaling you through the jewelry. It was a faint buzz, something like a hum, through the ring. A feeling that you hadn’t felt in ages. You longed to feel it again, to feel them.
Alleyways didn’t scare you, hardly anything scared you these days. Yet as you take a step into this alley, you sense something immediately. You feel eyes on you, as you walk.
“Has anyone ever told you to be mindful of where you settle demon?”
You continue walking, the empty threat meant nothing to you.
“I know what you are, I can smell it on you,” the voice echoes against the walls.
Your ears twitch, and soon you’re holding a frail man against one of the concrete walls in the alley.
“If you know what I am, you should be more mindful of how you approach me,” your strength speaks for itself.
You don’t give him the pleasure of seeing your fangs or glowing red eyes.
“Ah, you’re one of the older ones. This will be quite fun,” he says gleefully.
“What are you-" the question dies on your lips as you feel a needle being jabbed into your neck.
Your hand instinctively shoots over the spot, and your growl in frustration. You drop the man against the wall, turning your attention to the person who stuck you from behind with the needle.
This man was much bigger than the other. He was about twice your size, but it did not matter. You bare your fangs, hissing at the muscular man.
“Why isn’t she dropping?” He yells, fear laced through his voice.
You take the moment to pounce on him. Your teeth wasting no time, sinking into his neck. The man convulses under you, but you’re stronger than him. Even when he grabs your neck you don’t relent.
“Impossible,” the frail man, whispers from his spot against the wall.
“Nice try, but-”
The sensation hits you like a truck. You feel your vision get blurry and your muscles weaken. You blink a few times trying to will yourself against the late acting sedative.
The frail man nods excessively as you begin to lose consciousness, “Slower than usual, but captured nonetheless.”
You’re jolted back into consciousness when you feel the stake being driven into your skin. You attempt to shoot out of whatever position you are in, but it only causes you a familiar pain. Unlike the first time you were nailed to something, this time it was straight up rather than ‘X’ formation. Your arms hung up straight above your head and your feet were slightly spread underneath.
One spike was used to pierce both of your hands in place while you had one for each foot. Your breathing only quickens even more upon noticing you are in a forest. This couldn’t be happening.
“Glad you could finally join us,” the frail man from earlier want alone this time. He had a group of people with him.
“Let me go, and I’ll consider sparing you one I'm free,” you say, yet no one moves.
“You hold no power here, demon,” the man walks around you. “I am doctor Helsing, you may be familiar with my ancestors.”
Your jaw twitches, “ Van Helsing.”
He chuckles, “What a smart creature you are?”
“What do you want from me?”
His chuckle turns into a boisterous laughter, “ You can't offer me anything that I don't have the ability to take.”
You glare at the people in front of you, eyes turning a vicious shade of red, “The last group of people that tried something like this, paid for their sins with their lives. I hope you’re prepared to do the same.”
“They did quite a number on you, I can tell by your markings. Their only mistake was letting such a beautiful thing like you go,” Helsing says, his hand sliding across the scar on your abdomen.
“They didn’t let me go. I got out.”
His eyes had a glint as he leaned in, “And then you killed them all, how sad.”
He stabs you in the scar. Carving harder and deeper than the previous person. You grunt, but try to steel yourself under the knife. Yet you squirm finding the sensation to be more unpleasant than you had recalled.
“Silver cuts a little different doesn’t it?” He says watching the cut pour blood.
“You’re going to regret this.”
He turns his attention to the people, “Empty threats mean nothing when a beast is tied up. Would anyone else like a turn?”
People in his crowd begin to circle around you. Some with weapons, others cracking their knuckles. You're being attacked from all sides. The pain makes you tear up, but you avoid crying.
Instead you left out a bitter laugh, “That’s all you’ve got. Come on if you're gong to torture me at least put some passion behind it.”
“Oh, we’re just getting started. I want to hear you beg for your life, I want to see you broken, beaten, defeated. I want you to ask for death and then I'll award it to you.”
You spit at Helsing, “I’m not scared of death.”
He wipes your spit off of his face, a scowl now present, “For centuries my family has been driving your species to extinction. The failures may eclipse the successes, but don't think that we were never successful. You will fall at the hands of Van Helsing, creature.”
He has a device in his hand, he shoves it into your mouth. It forces your mouth open and your fangs out. He stares at them in awe. You try to clamp your mouth shut or retract your fangs, but you are unable to. You start to panic.
“Just like a snake, de-fang the vampire and a lot of that fear is gone,” his smile is sadistic.
You feel your adrenaline sky rocket as you shake violently. Your eyes wide in terror. The wood stake ripping your skin, but the pain was nothing akin to the fright.
You don’t remember the last time you were truly this scared.
He laughs and some of the crowd laugh along with him, “Are you afraid now, demon?”
Tears fall from your eyes and he coos. You flinch at his hand touching your face. His fingers were rough and callused against the swollen skin. You move your head as if to attack him and he stumbles back.
He grabs your jaw roughly, “This is the power of man.”
“Looks like someone is having a party and forgot to invite us.”
You know that voice. It makes you close your eyes in relief. The panic you felt in the moment begins to dissipate.
Everyone looks to the sky following the sound of the voice. It’s there that they see Agatha and Rio floating in the sky. Most of the crowd has their mouths agape, not believing what they are seeing.
“Should we offer them mercy, Agatha? Maybe our invites got lost in the mail?”
“This matter does not concern you foul wenches, be gone,” Helsing says, his voice trembles a bit at the end.
It’s Agatha that cackles looking down at the man, “See that’s where your wrong because…”
Rio appears behind the man, her skeletal form on her face, “If it concerns her, then it concerns us.”
Her dagger lays on his neck and he looses his composure.
“Anyone want to be brave?” Agatha questions the crowd, who screams when she shoots her magic at a nearby tree exploding it.
“What happened? A second ago you were lining up to torture her, but now you’re scared,” Rio adds pressure to her dagger.
“Don’t get shy now, doctor. Nothing to say?” Agatha gets closer to him.
The group tries to scatter but she traps them in a circle full of fire. They’re forced to gather close to each other. Their screams make you smile.
Agatha pulls the device out of your mouth carefully. Her hand caresses your face gently. You lean into her touch.
“We have to stop meeting like this doll,” Agatha mumbles only for you to hear.
“We wouldn’t have to meet again if you stopped leaving,” you shoot back.
Agatha casts her gaze away from you and over to Helsing. She and Rio switch places. The Green Witch, uses her vines to pull the spikes out of your body. It’s a feeling that never gets easier to experience.
You land on your feet ignoring the burning sensation. With your back tall you walk over to Helsing. You crouch in front of him, despite your own agony.
You hold his eyes, “Funny, I recall you telling me I’d beg for death. Well now she’s here for me, just not in the way you expected is it?”
Rio wiggles her fingers at the doctor, “I loved dragging the souls of your family to eternal damnation, can’t wait to reunite you with them.”
“Humans are all the same, always playing with food that’s not yours,” you stand towering over the man.
“Hey I like to play with my food,” Agatha pouts.
You smile, “When you have power you can do what you want.”
You open your hand and Rio drops her dagger into your grasp. The crowd watches in panic behind the flames as you approach the man.
“However, I’ve never been one to play with my food,” in a swift motion you slit his throat.
The gasps and screams of his followers sounds like music to your ears. He gargles his own blood reaching for his neck.
“Your blood isn’t worth drinking,” you watch as he collapses. You turn to address the crowd, “None of you have worthy blood. Cowards, followers, miscreants, I hope it was worth it. The price is your life, now burn.”
Agatha waves her hand dismissively and the crowd of people are quickly evaporated. Ash and burnt grass the only remnants of the aggressors.
Upon their destruction you crumble to the floor. Your body screaming at you for the abuse you endured.
Rio starts with the wound on your stomach before healing the spiked points. Your body still aches when she’s finished, but it’s substantially less than before.
“Déjà vu isn’t it bunny?” Agatha opens the floor for conversation.
“Now isn’t the time Agatha,” Rio scolds the woman, who raises her hands in defense.
“I was just reminiscing, is that a crime?”
You stand, “Well, good seeing you. Same time… in the next few centuries or…”
“You’re hurt,” Rio argues.
“You healed me enough,” you shrug.
Agatha rolls her eyes, “What’s with the attitude princess?”
You place a hand on your hip, “When was the last time we saw each other, Agatha? Rio, you only come when I leave bodies in my wake. So sorry if I’m not thrilled it takes me being captured and tortured to get some time together.”
“It’s always been this way,” Agatha argues back.
Your voice takes on an uncharacteristically soft tone, “I know and I’m tired. I don’t want whatever this is. I need something more, something tangible. It’s fine if you don't want to give that to me, but I can't keep waiting.”
You try to keep calm as you pull the rings off of your fingers, hand out stretched to give them back to their original owners.
“Y/n…”
“Take them… please. Free me, from whatever this is. I’m grateful that you saved me on our first day and maybe the same thing happening again is fate telling me that this is our last day,” you get the courage to look at them with teary eyes.
“You don't even believe in fate,” Agatha tries to reason with you.
“How would you know, you haven't been around. Things change, people change,” you tell her.
Agatha looks to Rio for help, but The Green Witch, just keeps her eyes on you.
“That’s bullshit! If change is so real, how’d we end up right back where we started hmm? Poor little hung up bat, in need of saving and here we are like always,” Agatha’s theatrics peak through her words.
“Like always?” You repeat, in disbelief.
“Look sweetheart, I know that-"
You ball your fists at your side, “What could you possibly know Agatha? Tell me, I’m interested in hearing. Did you know I spend all my time waiting for either of you to tell me if you want me or not? I don’t sleep, I just think and think and think about finding a way to end it all without having to see either of you. Hard to kill yourself with Death keeping tabs on you, even without a heartbeat. I knew this guy was tracking me, I knew what he wanted to do, and I said fuck it. I don’t care, what’s there to live for anyway?”
“You can't be serious?” Rio doesn’t want to believe what you’re saying.
“Of course I’m serious, part of me thought that after all these years humans would be over torture, but that was foolish of me. Why would I think that you'd come to save me? I still don’t understand why you did.”
“Because we love you, you fucking idiot!” Agatha shouts at you.
You scoff, “Do you really? I couldn’t tell by the hundreds of years apart.”
“We were protecting you,” Agatha gets in your space.
“What could have possibly been protecting me? Oh no, a loving and caring environment? How ever could I have managed such domestic delights and pleasures,” your voice drips sarcasm.
“You do realize that Rio is Death, right? Her job is literally to reap souls, you aren’t the only one that doesn’t get to see her often. And me… I’m all trouble, doll. There’s not a pleasant bone in my body.”
You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “Did you forget who I am? Have you had a head trauma recently, or maybe you need a refresher? I’m not the greatest either, cupcake. I just slit a man’s throat and had his followers executed.”
“By me,” Agatha points out.
“Ok and you want credit for the villages I killed too? The vampires I murdered? The people I lied to? The whores I fucked? I’m not some sweet innocent thing you picked up off of the side of the road. My ledger has had blood on it since before you killed your original coven.”
Your eyes are red as they stare into her blue ones.
“We were scared,” Rio interrupts the rising tensions between you and Agatha.
“Scared of what?” You glance at her.
“Of committing to you. Hell, Agatha and I can’t even fully commit to each other. This game of cat and mouse, it’s all we know. You’re right, you deserve more, so much more, but we don’t know how to give it. We don’t know what a domestic life looks like, we aren’t domestic people. I didn't think there would be any doubt in your head that we loved you, and maybe that just shows how fucked up we really are,” Rio monologues.
Her words hit you harshly. They make you want to start crying all over again. You cast your gaze to the floor.
“I guess that brings us back to the original point then, doesn’t it? Maybe it’s better if we just, end it here,” you can’t look at them.
“If that’s what you want?” Rio nods solemnly.
Agatha looks between the two of you, “Are you two stupid or something? You have to be if you think I’m just going to agree to this.”
“Agatha-”
“Don’t. I love you, both of you. I don’t want this to end and if that means changing the way things operate, then I guess things just have to change,” Agatha speaks seriously.
“What are yo-”
You startle when Agatha grabs your hands in both of hers. Her eyes locking fiercely onto yours. She doesn’t blink as she speaks, “Move in with me.”
“What?”
“You want time together, we can have time together. We’ve basically been together for centuries, come live with me.”
“Agatha, I think you've lost the plot,” Rio says, cautiously.
“You too Dr. Green Thumb. Let’s all move in together,” Agatha nods her head.
“That doesn’t fix everything,” you focus on her hands over yours.
She doesn’t hesitate to raise her hands to cup your face, “There’s obviously a lot to fix, but you can’t tell me this isn’t a step in the right direction. Y/n, I don’t want to- I can’t lose you. I’m not willing to let you go without a fight.”
Your face heats in her hands. Her eyes are ablaze with passion as they keep contact with yours.
You sigh and rest your forehead against hers, “I don’t know Agatha.”
Rio joins the moment, carefully wrapping her arms around your torso, “I don’t think any of us really know, but I think we’re supposed to find out together.”
“Please,” Agatha’s breath hits your lips. “Just a chance to make up for lost time. If it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t, but please don’t give up on us yet.”
Hearing Agatha beg like this tugs at your heart. You don’t want to give in this easily, but you’ve already wasted so much time.
“Ok.”
As the word falls from your lips, Agatha surges forward. You can recall the last time her lips were on yours. The warmth that they were able to send through your body. How firm she was in her kiss, not scared or uncertain as your lips moved together. She knew what she wanted and it was hard to picture a world in which she’d kiss someone she wasn’t interested in the way she was kissing you. You were the one she wanted.
Your legs grow weak, but Rio holds you steady. Her shifting grip, makes you turn to face her. Unlike Agatha she hesitates. She takes a moment to admire your features, she wasn’t in a rush. Neither were you. Rio’s kiss is softer than Agatha’s, her plush lips, move experimentally against yours. It’s not like she’s forgotten, more like she’s re-exploring. She's playful, as her teeth nibble on your bottom lip. You laugh at the sensation.
Rio rests her head on your shoulder. She extends her hands, motioning for the other witch to get closer. Agatha wraps her arms around the both of you. Her front to your back while her hands rest on Rio’s back. You’re encased by them, a feeling that is welcomed yet foreign to you.
“Promise that you'll keep me close” you say to both of them.
“Until the road ends, my love,” Agatha kisses the top of your head.
“I’ll hold you even after the road ends,” Rio kisses the base of your neck.
“Do you always have to one up me?” Agatha says to Rio.
Rio chuckles, “Sounds like a skill issue sweetheart.”
“Oh, we’ll see who has a skill issue later, when you’re begging me for help because my fingers are longer than yours,” Agatha says smugly.
Rio pulls back from you to glare at Agatha, “If you don’t want to ‘help’ me, I’ll just ask Y/n. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”
You blush at the innuendo.
“Nuh uh, bunny. I think I recall you liking my treats better, because someone has a skill issue,” Agatha sticks her tongue at Rio.
You turn an even deeper shade of red.
“You can never let an emotional moment be,” Rio says.
“Well you’re always trying to out ‘emotional’ me,” Agatha replies.
“It’s not my fault you’re not as smooth as me, mi vida,” Rio counters again.
Agatha throws her hands up, “I know Spanish and Latin too, you’re not special Vidal.”
Rio raises an eyebrow, “And who taught you?”
The back and forth makes you laugh, “Are you sure you don’t do domestic, because you bicker like an old married couple?”
They both huff at your statement.
“We’ll continue this at home,” Agatha points at Rio.
The brown eyed woman puts her hand over her heart in faux-fear, “Oooo, I’m terrified.”
Agatha opens a portal to her house and both women step through. Not stopping their bickering for a second. You smile as you watch them, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time.
“The portal isn’t going to stay open forever, bunny, come on,” Agatha reaches her hand to pull you through.
You take it, stepping into your new beginning.
#lowkeyerror#agatha x reader#agathario#agatha harkness x rio vidal#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal x reader#rio vidal#agatha harkness
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Mother's Love
This was a commission but I got permission to post it. It is probably the work that took me the longest to write because of how much research. It is very new concept to me and I don't know how well I portrayed it. Please let me know what you guys think.
Warning: Heavy Incest
You gazed longingly at the framed photo on your nightstand - your mother in her prime, radiant smile beaming at the camera. With a guilty pang, you reached for it, fingertips tracing her outline. You knew it was wrong but couldn't stop the flood of inappropriate thoughts.
Just then, a gentle knock at your bedroom door made you jump. "Honey, are you okay? You've been awfully quiet tonight," your mother's concerned voice said.
Hastily, you shoved the photo under your pillow. "I-I'm fine, Mom," you called back, voice cracking slightly. "Just tired from work."
"Alright, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything." Her footsteps retreated down the hall.
You let out a shaky breath, simultaneously relieved and disappointed that she hadn't come in. Retrieving the photo and pulling your pants back on you headed out. To your surprise, the door wasn’t closed but you were happy that she hadn’t seen what you were doing.
Hey Mom, what are you doing back home so soon? I thought you were meeting Auntie Yoona and Yuri today.
“I was baby, but we decided to call it a day fast because I didn’t want to leave you home alone for so long,” Seohyun says.
This wasn’t anything new for your mother as she has always been very protective of you but what you found much more weird was the fact that your mother hasn’t tried to hug you yet. She loved hugs and that’s the first thing she always did when she saw you.
It was a little surprising because you also loved those hugs, using them as a chance to hold her curvy body in between your arms, feel her breasts squeeze up against you, and the scent of Vanilla from her hair.
You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should bring up the lack of a hug. But before you can say anything, Seohyun speaks again.
"Sweetie, why don't you come sit with me on the couch? We need to talk about something."
Her tone is serious, and you feel a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. You follow her to the living room, watching as she settles onto the sofa. She pats the spot next to her, and you sit down, noticing how she keeps a bit more distance between you than usual.
"What's going on, Mom?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.
Seohyun takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours. "I've noticed what you were doing in your room earlier. I think we should address this."
Your heart races, and you feel a rush of heat on your face. You hadn't realized she'd seen anything. You try to swallow, but your mouth has gone dry.
"I... I don't know what you mean," you stammer, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know it's a feeble attempt at denial.
Seohyun's expression softens slightly, but her eyes remain serious. "Sweetie, I know this is uncomfortable, but we need to be honest with each other. I saw you looking at those pictures on your computer. The ones of... me."
Your stomach drops. You'd thought you were being so careful, always clearing your browser history, never leaving any traces. But somehow, she'd caught you.
"Mom, I can explain," you begin, but you're not sure how to continue. How do you explain the feelings you've been grappling with, the confusion and desire that have been tormenting you for months? How do you tell your mother that you've developed feelings for her that go far beyond what's appropriate?
Seohyun takes a step closer, and you instinctively back away until you feel the wall behind you. You're trapped, both physically and emotionally.
"Honey, I'm not angry," she says softly. "I'm just... concerned. And a little confused. Can you help me understand what's going on?"
You close your eyes, wishing you could disappear. But you know you can't avoid this conversation any longer. With a shaky breath, you open your eyes and meet her gaze but close them again.
"I don't know how it happened," you whisper. "I've tried to fight it, to ignore these feelings, but I can't. Mom, I... I think I'm in love with you."
Your eyes remain closed as you take a shaky breath, trying to find the right words. The silence stretches on, punctuated only by the pounding of your heart.
"I... I don't know how to explain it," you finally manage. Your voice comes out as barely more than a whisper. "It's not something I chose or wanted. These feelings just... developed over time."
You open your eyes to see your mother's face etched with worry. She reaches out and gently touches your arm. The contact sends a jolt through you.
"When did this start?" Seohyun asks.
"I'm not sure exactly. Maybe a few months ago? At first, I tried to ignore it, to push the thoughts away. But they kept coming back stronger."
You look down, unable to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry, Mom. I know it's wrong. I've tried to get rid of them but no matter what I tried, I always ended up back where I started.
You feel your mother's hand gently squeeze your arm. "Sweetheart, look at me," she says softly. You slowly raise your eyes to meet hers, expecting to see disappointment or disgust. Instead, her gaze is filled with understanding and compassion.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Seohyun says firmly. "Your feelings are valid, even if they're complicated. I'm glad you felt you could open up to me about this."
She pulls you into a warm embrace. You relax into her arms, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.
"Why don't we sit down and talk more?" your mother suggests. "I want to understand what you're going through."
The both of you sit down and you begin to tell her what you have been doing, Seohyun listens without saying a single word, sitting next to you with her legs folded.
“Mom, are you sure it's fine for me to keep going? I know this isn’t what you expected from me.”
All of a sudden, Seohyun pushes your back onto the couch.
“Baby you have no idea how much I have held myself back. Just hearing how you feel about me made me feel so wet, Look”
Seohyun holds you down with your hands above your head, and moves her pelvis closer to your face, showing you the wet spot on her leggings.
Shocked would be an understatement of how you were feeling right now, you couldn’t get any words out.
“Your body is so fucking perfect baby, I love skinny men, and you are just the perfect size for me unlike your father, so fat and ugly he is. I am so happy that you are nothing like him, baby.”
She traces your body, her fingers lingering over your collarbone and shoulder.
“Your body is just so perfect for a goddess like me. Look at how sexy I am, my body is literal perfection and it deserves to be worshipped doesn’t it.” Seohyun asks.
All you can do is nod.
“That’s a good boy. Now stay still for mommy,” Seohyun says as she lets go of your hands and takes off her leggings along with those panties.
“Fuck Mommy, your body is so perfect. Those legs and lovely shaved pussy,” You say as you admire her body.
“I know baby”
“Mommy can you come kiss me please! I wanna hold your face and enjoy this moment,”
Seohyun obliges and kisses her son, a deep and passionate one. Tongues fighting with each other but Seohyun’s winning.
After what felt like hours, she pulls away from you. “Give your hands baby,”
You oblige, Seohyun ties your hands together with her leggings.
“Mommy, why are you tying my hands,” You ask, surprised and also annoyed because you wanted to hold her and feel her perfect body.
“Yes baby, I am the one in control here and you will do anything I say won’t you, my pretty boy?”
“Yes Mommy, I will be a good boy for you,” you reply all your worries from earlier disappearing. All you wanted to do was make your mommy happy.
Your mother's pussy was now right in front of your face, a few inches away from your mouth. You had dreamed about such a day, the smell was so perfect, a little hint of her sweat but that made it more addicting.
You put your tongue out trying to get a taste of her pussy but you were stopped by your hair being pulled.
“Did I tell you to lick my pussy?” Seohyun says. In the same voice, she uses when you do something stupid.
“No…” you were shocked by her tone but something about the way she was controlling you was turning you on in a way that you didn’t know was possible.
“Good, you will only do things that I say, anything more or anything less you will be punished okay? Pretty boy,”
“Yes Mommy,” You liked how this situation turned out even more now. You were always a submissive guy so this was a dream come true.
“Now, go ahead and have a taste of this heavenly pussy,” Seohyun allows you. Wanting to savor the moment, you take a deep breath of her scent and dive into it. Her pussy tasted amazing, it was sweet and addictive.
You licked her pussy as your life depended on it, occasionally flicking your tongue against her clit. Seohyun’s moans filled the room. It was like music to your ears.
Seohyun grabbed onto your hair pulling it and the pain is making this pleasure even better.
“Fuck, baby boy, keep going! You are going to make Mommy cum, keep going. Don’t you dare fucking stop? Keep fucking going baby!” Seohyun screamed. Her pleasure was getting to her.
Soon after, Seohyun goes over the edge, squirting all over your face, her thighs crushing your head. You lick up every single drop of it.
“You did such an amazing job baby boy! Mommy should reward you for being such a good boy. Don’t move and let mommy take care of you”
Seohyun pulls down your pants and out comes your hard cock. Amazed by its sheer size.”I didn’t know you grew so much, baby.”
She wraps her hand around your cock slowly pumping it. Her hands felt so perfect around your cock, the warmth of her hands so perfect.
“Mommy, that feels so good!” You moan.
Your moans were like music to Seohyun’s ears, she wanted to hear more. So she gives your cock a little kiss on the tip before putting it into her mouth, her head bobbing as her tongue works its way around the tip.
It was a struggle to not cum within a few seconds. It took all the concentration you had but it was getting too much. You try to stop her with your hands and it works but to your dismay, your mother's eyes meet yours and she isn’t happy.
A sudden sting on your cheek brings you back to reality, Seohyun had just slapped you. “WHAT THE FUCK Mom!”
But the only reply you get is another slap.
“What did I tell you? I told you to stay still, didn’t I?”
You were stunned but replied, “You did, I’m sorry Mommy it was getting too much for me,”
“I know baby but mommy wants your cum, you will give it to her won’t you?” Seohyun says, her puppy eyes staring into yours.
“Yes Mommy, Anything for you,” You didn’t have it in you to say no to anything that she asked for especially when she used those puppy eyes.
She restarted her assault on your cock and this time she was dead set on making you cum. Her head bobbing so fast, this time you did your best to keep your hands above.
“Hnghh, Mommy I’m cumming!!”
Seohyun speeds up and within a few seconds, you cum down her throat. This was probably the strongest orgasm that you have ever had. It was mind-numbing to you. Seohyun swallowed every single drop of your cum.
“Mhmm that was quite the load you were saving up for me, baby.”
The orgasm had hit you like a truck and you were recovering slowly from it. “Amazing Mommy, that was the best orgasm that I’ve ever had,”
“I know baby, and this is just the beginning we haven’t even got to the main event yet.”
“Oh yeah? I can’t wait to see how much better the main event is going to be Mommy.”
“Let me ride my baby boy, I want to feel your cock stretching out my tight pussy.” Seohyun says. Stradling your body and lining your cock.
She teases you, not putting it in, rubbing your cock on her pussy coating it with her juices. You wanted to put it in so badly but you knew better than to be impatient, but there was only so much you could take.
“Mommy, please put it in,” you beg.
She obliges, slowly sliding your cock into her tight pussy, this is what you imagined heaven would feel like.
“Fuck! Baby, your big fat cock is stretching me out so good, I miss this feeling so fucking much, your tiny dick father could never stretch me like this,” Seohyun moaned, her hands gripping onto your chest as she adjusted to your length.
“Mommy your pussy is so fucking tight!” You moaned.
Seohyun was riding you like there was no tomorrow, the pleasure slowly taking over her brain and ignoring your hands that were now groping at her perfect tits.
Everything was so perfect. Your mother continued to ride you as you played with her tits. One of her hands rubbing her clit.
The sight of your cock going in and out of your mother's pussy was addicting, Your mother loved it just as much as you, she loved it a lot more. Her hips were moving in ways that you didn’t know were possible and that was bringing you closer to your orgasm.
With how much your dick was twitching inside Seohyun’s pussy she knew that you wouldn’t be able to last longer but she couldn’t have that, not when she hasn’t even cum yet.
You felt Seohyun slap you, it wasn’t like the one before this one was harder, before you could protest another one landed. You were shocked.
“Mommy, what did I do?” You questioned.
“Nothing baby, I just didn’t want you to cum so soon. Mommy is close but you have to make her cum more than once. She desperately misses sex,” Seohyun moaned as her nails dug into your arms.
The pain really helped get your mind off your orgasm but you were enjoying the pain, it was different, it felt perfect receiving pain from the one woman you loved more than yourself.
“Mommy’s cumming baby boy, pound her hard and fast, don’t you dare fucking cum or stop until I say so,” Seohyun instructs and you do exactly that. There wasn’t much gap between Seohyun and the bed but you did your best to pound into her and she was enjoying it.
After a few seconds of hard pounding, Seohyun pulls your cock out of her pussy and squirts all over your body. It was a strong one given how much squirt was on your body and also how long it took your mother to recover from it.
As soon as she recovers from her orgasm, she begins chasing her next one, hoping it is stronger than the last, her dominant side takes over and she begins choking you all while still riding you.
The lack of oxygen and the tightness of Seohyun’s pussy was bringing you dangerously close to your orgasm.
‘Mommy-” Before you can warn your mother, your cum, squirting your seed into the depths of your mother's tight pussy.
“Oh my God, what a naughty boy you are. Cumming inside me without permission. Since this is your first time. I am going to let this go.”
Seohyun stays on your cock for a few more seconds before finally getting off. A glob of your semen leaks out of her freshly fucked pussy. Seohyun is a little surprised by this.
“Oh my! Were you trying to get your mother pregnant? Look at how much cum you dumped in my pussy,” Seohyun says before bending down to lick up the glob of cum that leaked out of her pussy.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” you reply, a little guilty for cumming inside of her without her permission.
“Haha, don’t take it seriously. I was just kidding. Go on clean up. Your father might be coming home earlier than expected today,” Seohyun says before untying your hands and walking toward the master bedroom.
Heading your mother’s warning, you pick up your clothes and head to your room to wash up. Just as your mother had predicted, your father returned an hour after your sex session.
**********
The next few days were uneventful. Neither of you spoke about what had happened that night. Maybe it was because both of you were avoiding the responsibility of confronting the situation, but more than anything, it seemed like your father’s presence at home gave you both an excuse to ignore it. He had taken a few days off, and the house was unusually busy with him being around.
You spent most of your time outside, either at the gym or hanging out at a friend’s place, unable to bear the sight of your father acting all affectionate with your mother. For some reason, it rubbed you the wrong way—seeing them that way, so close and content, stirred something uncomfortable deep within you.
One afternoon, you came home to find your mother sitting at your desk, using your computer. Before you could see what she was looking at, she quickly closed all the windows and got up, leaving the room without a word. It was strange—completely out of character for her. She had never gone through your things before, much less without asking your permission.
Shrugging it off, you spent the next few hours immersed in your video games. When dinner time rolled around, you went downstairs. Dinner proceeded as usual, with the usual exchanges between your parents. Just as you were beginning to let your guard down, something unexpected happened: beneath the table, your mother’s foot slowly slid onto your lap.
Her toes pressed against your groin.
Your breath caught in your throat, and your body tensed involuntarily. It was difficult not to react, especially with your father sitting right next to her, obliviously eating. She didn’t look at you, not once, her expression calm and composed as if nothing unusual was happening.
That was the only noteworthy event of the evening. Afterward, things seemed to return to normal—as normal as they could be.
************
The following evening, the air in the house felt unusually heavy. You kept thinking about the small, strange moments you had shared with your mother over the last few days—moments you didn’t know how to interpret.
Later that night, when you were in your room, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, you heard the faintest sound of anklets jingling from outside your door.
The door creaked open, and there she stood—your mother, Seohyun, bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light. But tonight, she wasn’t dressed in her usual attire. She was wearing an intricate Indian outfit—a flowing saree draped elegantly over her body. The rich fabric shimmered as she stepped into the room, each movement accompanied by the soft chime of her anklets.
Her bare feet carried silver toe rings that glinted under the low light, and a thin chain rested delicately around her waist, adorned with a small stomach ring that peeked from beneath the edge of her saree. She wore a nose ring—simple yet striking—and it enhanced the sharpness of her features. She looked both foreign and familiar, like a dream plucked from the depths of your subconscious.
Your heart pounded as she closed the door quietly behind her, locking it with a soft click.
“Do you like it?” she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper. There was no mistaking the intent behind her gaze—she knew exactly what she was doing.
How did she know? How had she figured out your fascination with Indian attire?
Before you could gather your thoughts, she crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps, her anklets jingling with every movement. The scent of jasmine and sandalwood clung to her skin, intoxicating. She knelt beside you, her fingers brushing lightly against your hand.
“You don’t have to hide it anymore,” she whispered, leaning closer. "I know."
The room felt still, as though time had slowed. Your gaze traveled over her form, taking in every detail—the way the saree’s fabric clung to her curves, the shimmer of silver jewelry against her pale skin, and the way she carried herself with quiet grace.
Seohyun tilted her head slightly, her anklet chiming softly as she shifted her weight. "Do you like what you see?" she asked gently, her voice carrying warmth and curiosity as if she truly wanted to know what was in your heart.
You swallowed, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “Yes... Goddess.” The word slipped from your lips without hesitation, as if it had always belonged there. It wasn’t just admiration—it was reverence, an acknowledgment of the deep, unspoken emotions that had grown over time. You weren’t merely looking at your mother; you were gazing at someone you now saw as something more—someone extraordinary.
A soft smile spread across her lips, filled with both amusement and understanding. She didn’t laugh at you or dismiss the way you had addressed her. Instead, she stood quietly, as if waiting for you to express what had been unspoken between the two of you.
You knelt in front of her, overwhelmed by the desire to honor her presence. With a deep breath, you lowered your head and kissed her feet. The cool metal of her toe rings brushed against your skin, and the faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air. It wasn’t about submission; it was about devotion.
She rested her hand lightly on your head, her touch soft and reassuring. "You don't have to be afraid," she whispered. "Mommy’s here."
Raising your head slowly, you gazed up at her. "I... I want to honor you, Goddess. To cherish every part of you."
Her expression softened, and she brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. "Then honor me," she said simply, her voice steady and kind.
You sat quietly at her feet as you traced her body from her toes to her magnificent thighs. She stayed with you, the jingling of her anklets becoming a familiar, soothing sound. It felt as if the unspoken tension of the past days had finally lifted, replaced by something far more profound—a bond deeper than words, built on mutual respect and quiet admiration.
A rush of emotions surged through you—so many that it was difficult to sort them all out. Reverence, gratitude, admiration… but above all, an overwhelming sense of peace. It was as if the storm raging inside you for days had finally quieted, replaced by clarity.
Every small detail seemed magnified: the cool metal of her toe rings, the soft chime of her anklets, the smoothness of her skin beneath your touch. Your heart pounded, not with fear, but with a deep sense of purpose. Worshipping her wasn’t just an act—it felt like the truest way to express what words never could.
You marveled at her grace, the way the flowing fabric of her saree traced her silhouette like art in motion. Every inch of her felt like a masterpiece—each curve, each subtle movement speaking of beauty beyond the physical. It was not just about her appearance, but the aura she carried: the quiet strength, the kindness, the elegance that she exuded so effortlessly.
As your fingers brushed along her anklets, a strange warmth bloomed within you—something between awe and humility. You felt small in her presence, but not in a diminished way. It was the kind of smallness you might feel while standing beneath a starry sky, or gazing at a powerful painting—something grand, humbling, yet strangely comforting.
Your breath hitched as you looked up at her, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in her eyes—an understanding, perhaps, of what this moment meant to you. There was no awkwardness, no shame, only a quiet acceptance between the two of you.
Touching her feet, tracing the delicate rings she wore, filled you with a sense of connection that went deeper than any conversation ever could. It was as though you were communicating without words, speaking in gestures and glances, your emotions laid bare in the simplest of touches.
And as you gazed up at her, you felt a sense of belonging—like you were exactly where you were meant to be. In that quiet, sacred space, nothing else mattered. The world outside could wait. All that existed now was her, standing before you, radiant and serene.
The first thing you noticed was how soft and smooth her skin felt beneath your touch—like fine silk, cool yet welcoming. Her feet were elegant, with well-formed arches that gave them a graceful shape. The pale skin had a slight sheen, catching the soft light in the room. A light floral scent, perhaps from lotion or oil, lingered faintly, making the experience even more soothing.
Her toes were slender, each adorned with delicate silver rings that rested comfortably against her skin, their smooth surfaces cool under your fingertips. The rings glinted subtly, adding an extra layer of beauty to her already mesmerizing presence. Her nails were neatly trimmed and painted a soft shade of pink—simple yet refined, perfectly complementing the quiet elegance she carried.
The anklets wrapped around her slim ankles jingled gently with every movement, creating a rhythmic, calming sound. You felt the subtle weight of the anklets as you rested your forehead against her feet, the tiny charms brushing lightly against your skin.
Her soles were soft but carried a slight firmness from the natural wear of walking barefoot—enough to remind you of her strength without diminishing her delicacy. As your fingertips traced lightly along the curve of her heel, you noticed how her skin gave just a little under your touch, a perfect balance between tender and resilient.
There was warmth in her touch as she rested one foot against your hands as if to say she accepted your reverence. The slight pressure of her foot was neither heavy nor intrusive—just enough to make you feel grounded, connected, and fully present in the moment.
As the quiet moment lingered, she reached out, her hand gently cupping your face with a softness that seemed to erase all your doubts. She looked at you, her eyes filled with warmth and a silent understanding, before leaning down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. Her closeness filled you with a sense of calm, and you felt yourself relax under her gentle touch.
She moved closer, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder as she brought her lips to yours in a delicate, almost tentative kiss. The touch was gentle, warm, and filled with a kindness that made your heartache. Her lips were soft, and the kiss was unhurried as if she wanted to savor every moment, every shared breath. It wasn’t about passion or intensity; it was about the quiet connection you both shared—a bond that felt comforting, familiar, and deeply rooted.
As she leaned in, the first kiss was soft and slow, but it quickly deepened, as if an unspoken energy had sparked between you both. Her hand slid up to your neck, fingers tracing lightly over your skin as her lips pressed to yours with more intensity. There was a hint of laughter in her eyes, a playful spark that made you feel like she was daring you to follow her lead.
Suddenly, she broke away, her fingers slipping from yours as she backed away with a teasing smile. She took a step backward, her gaze inviting you to follow. And then, with a quiet laugh, she turned and glided into the next room, her steps light and graceful. You didn’t hesitate—you chased after her, catching up just as she leaned back against the doorway, waiting for you with that same mischievous smile.
Your hands found hers, pulling her close as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders. The kiss was bolder this time, filled with an urgency that neither of you had fully realized until now. She pulled back again, just enough to make you chase her once more, her laughter echoing softly as she led you through the house.
In each room, you caught up to her, drawing her close as her fingers tangled in your hair, her lips meeting yours in passionate, lingering kisses that left you breathless. Her touch was tender, but her gaze was filled with a warmth that felt like both an invitation and a challenge.
Room by room, she led you, each time letting you catch her, only to playfully slip away with a smile that kept your pulse racing. Her laughter, her smile, her closeness—all of it filled you with a joy that felt deeper than words. You both moved in harmony, drawn together by the same unspoken connection, until finally, you reached a quiet space where you held each other, both breathless, both smiling, as you shared one last kiss filled with warmth and affection before Seohyun broke the silence.
“What a good boy you are. Seeing how much you were worshipping my feet, maybe I should give you a footjob,” Seohyun suggested.
“Please Mommy”
“Take off your clothes for me,” Seohyun commanded, her tone unchanged but her voice sounded hypnotizing.
You do exactly that, in a hurry, ripping pieces of our clothing away from your body. Seohyun admires your body like an artwork. She closes the gap between the both of you but the kiss you were expecting doesn’t come, instead she pushes you onto the bed.
Seohyun follows you onto the bed. Her back rested against the headboard. “Come to me.”
Seohyun’s thighs wrapping your body and her feet reach your hardened cock. The cold metal of her toe ring creates a novel sensation on your cock. Her anklet occasionally touches your thighs making a jingling sound.
“Spit on your cock for me,” Seohyun commands.
She spreads your spit all over your cock and she begins giving you a footjob. This was your first footjob, you never expected it to feel this good. The sound of her anklet ringing throughout the entire room.
You were trying your best not to moan so soon. The kisses she was placing on your neck were distracting you from your rising orgasm. Her legs were moving in perfect motion giving you the most amount of pleasure. The sound of her anklet hypnotized you into a trance where pleasure was all you could think about.
The orgasm that you were trying so hard to stop was now unstoppable, her hips unconsciously thrusting into your mother's feet. Seohyun noticed this and also how much your cock was throbbing.
When you were almost at your peak, Seohyun pulled her feet away from your cock, leaving you completely devoid of any touch.
“MOMMYY! I was just about to cum!” You whine, your voice filled with frustration.
“I know baby but we don’t want this to end so soon now do we?”
After a few seconds, Seohyun’s feet wrap around your cock again but this time they don’t move. “Mommy, pleaseeee”
“If you want it so badly then why not fuck my feet then?” Seohyun suggests. Initially, you were a little reluctant because of how embarrassing it was but your lust eventually got the best of you. You began humping your mother's feet slowly.
The pleasure and pace increase with every thrust. Eventually, the orgasm that had subsided was now within your reach. “Mommy, your feet feel so good. I’m gonna cum soon!” You moan.
But again you were deprived of your release. “Mommy!” you scream and get out of her embrace.
“Don’t be so impatient baby, your mommy will let you cum so be a good boy and keep humping my feet,” Seohyun says.
Though you weren’t particularly happy about it you still enjoyed how good your mother’s feet felt around your cock. You went back to thrusting your cock in between her soft feet. Increasing your pace with every thrust, trying to chase your orgasm again not caring about how your mother would react to your disobedience.
Seohyun could feel your thrusts getting more erratic, the way you were grunting turned your mother her hand playing with her clothed pussy but you were too preoccupied to notice it.
The sudden increase in pace from earlier signaled to your soon impending orgasm but you were brought back to reality by a sharp slap, your cheek stinging. Seohyun grabs you by your hair, pulling you close to her.
“You want to be a naughty boy? Do you know what happens to naughty boys?”
You nod in reply.
Seohyun yanks your hair again, “Use your pretty words, or are you so stupid that you can’t give me a proper reply?”
“They get punished,” you reply.
“Yes, they get punished. Stay here,” Seohyun says before leaving you alone in the room.
The suspense was killing you, lying there on your bed completely naked. Not knowing what kind of punishment is awaiting you. The silence is broken by the sound of your mother’s anklet jingling echoing throughout the house.
Seohyun returns to the room with a Whip in her hand, a small one but it was intimidating you a lot more than you would like to admit. You had never been hit before at least not like this.
“Turn around, I wanna see that skinny ass of yours,” Seohyun commands. You do exactly as she asks.
You could feel the coolness of the whip as it slides over your ass, and then you are struck, it wasn’t hard but enough to send a stinging sense of pain.
“Hngh,” You let out a sound, trying your best not to scream.
Surprisingly your dick was throbbing, the pain that was supposed to scare you was giving you pleasure.
Another one but this type on your upper back, much harder than the previous one, you moaned out in pain. She continued to whip you, sometimes lightly, sometimes hard, but you loved every single one, crazing more.
“Turn around,” and so you do
Your mother immediately notices the massive boner that you were sporting and also the precum that was leaking from the tip of your penis.
“Oh my what a naughty little slut you are, you were enjoying all this whipping?” Seohyun asks but you are too shy to reply.
“I can’t believe that I’ve got a painslut on my hands,” Seohyun coos you as she leans in to kiss you. Both your bodies were covered with sweat, Seohyun’s body sliding against yours as she leaned into the kiss and onto your body.
“My ideal man, you are the perfect man for me, your skinny body, your love for pain, and your fat cock, it’s meant for me and only me,” Seohyun whispers after cupping your face.
“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore,” Soehyun says before aligning herself on your cock and slowly sinking into it.
“THIS IS IT! This is the best fucking feeling ever. Your fat cock stretched my pussy so fucking good baby boy” Seohyun moans as her ass sits flat on your pelvis with your cock buried deep inside her tight pussy.
Her pussy was just as you remember it, the closest thing to perfection. It was gripping onto your cock with the perfect amount of pressure. Seohyun’s sweat drips onto your face as she adjusts to your length. The room was too hot for the both of you but you couldn’t care more about the heat outside because the heat inside of you was burning you up and you needed your mother to feel just how much you loved her.
“Mommy, please can you start moving, I don’t know how much longer I can stay like this,” You beg, Seohyun obliges your request and begins to slowly move her hips.
“Fuck!” You moan.
“Yes, this is it! Don’t you dare fucking cum this time without my permission,” Seohyun said as her ass bounced on your cock. The sound of wet bodies colliding with each other and her jewelry bouncing echoed throughout the room.
Seohyun’s tits bouncing right in front of you, mesmerizing. You grab onto them, and your hands sink into them, soft as feathery pillows. Using one of your hands you pinch one of her nipples that were as hard as rocks. With just one twist, your mother’s pussy tightened around you catching you off guard and almost making you cum.
“You like that mommy? When I play with your sensitive nipples?” Seohyun yelps with increased pleasure.
“I wonder if is squeeze hard enough, will milk come out Mommy?” you ask and pinch harder.
“Hngh fuck! Mommy loves it baby keep going. Fuck a baby into me and I will give you all the milk you need my pretty boy,” Seohyun replies, the pleasure slowly getting to her.
Her grinding slows down, you take this as a chance to start thrusting into her. She was shocked by your sudden movements but she loved it, her moans grew louder almost sounding like screams.
“Yes, that’s it! I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” your mother screamed one last time before cumming and squirting all over your body. Her back bending in pure bliss, incoherent words spilling out of her mouth. Some of her squirt got into your mouth but you relished the sweetness of her juices.
Your cock was resting and throbbing on your abdomen as Seohyun recovered from the mind-shattering orgasm that she just had. Your breathing still labored from the intense pounding you just gave your mother.
“That was the best orgasm that I’ve ever had baby boy. Now it’s your turn, I can see your cock throbbing and begging for a release,” Seohyun says as she gets off you.
“Now come and fuck your mommy till you cum deep inside her pussy and breed her,” Seohyun commands.
Taking up her invitation. This was the first time that you were on top and had any sort of control in the bedroom with your mother. You lined yourself up and rubbed the entrance of her pussy and slapped your cock on her her clit occasionally.
“I’m putting it in Mommy,” You warn her, slowly pushing into her.
“You don’t have to be so gentle baby, Go ahead and fuck me like I am nothing but a fleshlight! Use your mommy and dump your cum into my fertile baby-making womb,” Seohyun moans.
You bottom out into her and start pounding without waiting for another second. The warmth and tightness brought back the orgasm that had subsided earlier. You were pounding hard and fast. Seohyun’s tits bouncing with every thrust.
The bouncing tits were enticing you to grab them but all of a sudden something came over your mind and you give her boobs a hard slap causing a stinging sensation for Seohyun.
“Yes just like that use me however you want! This body is your baby!” Your mother screamed loving the stinging sensation.
You continue to give her boobs a few more hard slaps, her white pale skin was now bright red, and Seohyun’s eyes rolled to the back of her head with the immense pleasure she was feeling. Her mouth was open and spit drooling out without any control.
It was only a matter of a few more seconds before you could no longer hold back and from the looks of it your mother was also closing in on another orgasm. Your thrusts grew more erratic.
“Fuck I’m cumming!” You scream.
Seohyun can feel you pulling out and she can’t have that, she wraps her legs around your body caging you and keeping your cock buried deep inside her pussy. “Don’t you dare even think of trying to pull out? I need your hot cum filling up my tight pussy.”
“THIS IS IT! FUCKK! Your cum is so fucking hot, it’s like my inside is being burned!”
You were out of it, the pleasure from the orgasm was beyond what you had ever felt, it was destroying your brain, completely destroying your ability to form any thoughts or sentences. The only sound in the room was your grunts as you shot your last few spurts of cum.
It took you a good few minutes before you were finally able to comprehend what you had just done and how perfect this moment was.
“How are you feeling baby?” Your mother asked as she felt you slowly trying to pull out.
“That was perfect mommy! But is it really okay for me to be cumming inside you like this? What if you get pregnant?” You question
“That’s exactly what I want. I want to carry your baby” Seohyun says.
The words that had just come out of your mother’s mouth were beyond shocking, it wasn’t something you had ever expected to hear. It took you a few seconds to process what you had just heard.
“But what about father, what about everyone else no one will accept this!” You screamed, panic setting in.
“It’s okay baby, We can run away from all this to a far-away country where no one knows the both of us. We can get married and enjoy the life we want.” Seohyun says. This is what you wanted but you needed to be realistic about it because starting a completely new life would be extremely hard.
“It’s too difficult, I don’t even have enough money to support us for a month.” You retort.
“Money is not of concern, baby. I’ve been making arrangements for a while now. I have more than enough to last us through the rest of our lives,”
“How? I thought Dad paid for everything.” You questioned.
“That’s a story for another time. Tell me, don’t you want to marry your mother and run away from this mess.”
“I do, I want that so badly but I’m scared. I don’t know what will happen and I don’t want you to get hurt,” You reply
“Don’t worry baby, we can figure it all out. I know that you would never hurt me intentionally,” Seohyun replies.
The sweetness in her words flicked a switch in your mind. You knew you wanted this but those words gave you the push you so desperately needed.
You kiss her, it is an innocent kiss filled with love and passion. Both your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths. Something about this kiss felt perfect.
If it wasn’t for the need to breathe the kiss would have gone on for much longer, you pull away from your mother, your forehead still on hers, lips mere centimeters away from each other.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Seohyun says and all you can do is nod, not finding the right words to express your love and gratitude.
After laying together for a few seconds, you get up to admire your mother’s perfect body, from her perfect chubby face to her firm tits, to her perfectly sculpted stomach, and then to her pussy which had your cum leaking.
The sight of your cum leaking from her pussy turned you on again and within no time you were hard again. Seohyun notices this. “Oh my, being young truly is an amazing gift. You aren’t satisfied even after all the things we just did”
“Sorry, Mommy I will take care of it,” You reply but are pulled back into bed by your mother.
“You will do no such thing. As long as I am here, the only one who gets to milk a load of cum from you is me, and only me. So come here and fuck your mother again but this time I want to do it in the washroom while we shower.”
Taking her up on the invitation you pick her up from the bed, her legs wrapped around your body, face to face with you. You line yourself up with her pussy and slide it in, there was almost no resistance given how wet and cum filled it was.
You start thrusting up slowly, her moans filling up the room. While still thrusting, you slowly walk toward the washroom.
The both of you were still sensitive from the last time, so you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.
Seohyun turns the shower on with one of the hands that was wrapped around your neck. The hot water hits your back, your thrusts increase in pace. Seohyun’s body is now pressed in between the wall and your body.
Your mother’s pussy was tightening around you, her nails digging into the back of your neck, and the hot water causing a stinging pain.
“I can’t hold on much longer baby, please let’s cum together, I need you to fill up your mother's tight pussy again! I beg you!” Seohyun scream.
Your thrusts growing more erratic and harsh, not caring about anything or than your orgasm. Seohyun ends up cumming a little earlier than you and a few seconds after her you follow, flooding her pussy full of all the cum that you have left.
“FUCK!” You grunt as your cum floods Seohyun’s pussy.
The both of you don’t move, the scene in front of you is something that you would love to see every day. Seohyun’s face drained and your cock was the cause of that.
Mesmerized by her beauty you place kisses all over her chubby perfect face. Seohyun loved those little kisses. Just as you are about to pull out, Seohyun stops you.
“Leave it in there baby, I don’t want a single drop of your cum to go to waste,” Seohyun says.
******
It’s been three years since your mind-blowing sex in the washroom. The both of you had now moved to a remote estate in Poland, a place where no one recognized your mother or you.
It was no longer just the two of you, Soehyun had given birth to your baby boy 2 years ago and she was now pregnant again with your child. It was initially difficult for you to adjust to but you had gotten used to it. You were now working in a small company, under an alias.
Life was perfect like this. Every evening when you came back home you were greeted by your perfect wife/mother. After dinner, you guys still had the same amount of passion in the bedroom, and sex was still as hot and exciting as ever, sometimes you both went overboard with all the sex but it was fine. This is the life you had imagined and loved.
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Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 1515
Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?
As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed.
The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning.
You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind.
But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.
You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber.
To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond.
And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.
You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony.
Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her.
With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with.
Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible.
As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement.
"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"
You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"
Eloise shrugged.
"We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.
"Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon."
As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.
Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today.
As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.
"Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."
Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile.
"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear."
She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony.
Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family.
She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe.
As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."
Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words.
They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support.
As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months."
She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."
Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework.
"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always."
Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."
Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.
It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.
As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment.
Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.
"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?"
Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne.
They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.
"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby."
Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed.
Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.
The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.
As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you.
It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat.
The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.
Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond.
The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family.
Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music.
Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.
As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement.
You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes.
The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.
Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps.
They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.
It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.
As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion.
He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."
"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek.
He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"
Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.
"That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that."
"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."
He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.
You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.
#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagines#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton netflix#colin bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#anthony x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x y/n#x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#colin bridgerton#eloise bridgerton
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frat flu luigi mangione x virgin!reader 18+
summary!!! (smut inspired by this request) you’re set to interview frat president luigi mangione for the penn newsletter!
note: fratboy!luigi but not reallyyyy associated to that cheating demon storyline. written as a standalone but could be seen as a prequel if you squint. unedited but happy new years
warnings: long fic cuz we need a reason to be fuckin, sad bc luigi’s sad, comfort, an attempt at fluff, and of course smut, dubcon (he grinds on you while you’re sleeping), so dry humping, p in dis v (VIRGINNN)
luigi mangione, as described by his fraternity brothers: “cool,” “mega smart,” and “totally chill.” all phrases you could blindly draw from a hat to describe a stranger walking down the street.
surely, this couldn’t be your debut in penn today. a spotlight on the brightest mind on campus, phi kappa psi fraternity president luigi mangione. top of his class at a mysterious luxury private high school, started a hash brown business at sixteen, and, according to his linkedin, volunteers at local libraries, elderly homes, and animal shelters during breaks back home. he’s got a first aid/cpr certification, a bartending license, and a squeaky clean record.
“he doesn’t even complain on yelp,” you groan.
your friend, lacy, sits in the drivers seat, shaking her head. “maybe he’s just nice.”
you shoot a glare at her.
she raises her hands, defensive. “i’ve only heard good things!”
“oh, well, if he was really so nice, he wouldn’t have canceled on me a hundred and one times.” as if he’d heard you, your phone pings—his name flashing on the screen.
from luigi Hey pretty! Something came up today. So sorry. Can I see you another time?
“one hundred and two,” you declare, showing her your phone screen. at this point, it felt less like inconvenience and more like cruelty. his constant rejections, delayed responses, and last-minute reschedules were a relentless reminder of your looming failure to finish the piece on the phi kappa psi house. journalism club was going to fucking kill you.
“y/n, he literally could not have been nicer.” she finally puts the car into park. the both of you look outside.
frustration had been simmering for weeks, growing with every missed promise. almost two months ago, he’d smiled big and earnest, assuring you he’d meet for the interview—yet here you were, still waiting. the distance between you two seemed to stretch with every passing day, and you couldn’t summon the energy to pretend you still cared for niceties.
you’re outside his fraternity house, calling him, he surprises you by answering almost immediately, his voice low and hoarse, like he’s just woken up. “hello?”
“hi, it’s y/n.”
“oh,” he says, tone dipping as he cleared his throat. “hey, how are you?”
“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i just wanted to talk—”
“yeah, i know ‘m sorry,” he tells you, sincerity to be debated. “i’ve just been a bit all over the place these past few weeks.”
lacy mouths, “im staying in the car.”
nodding, you hop out, a familiar sense of anticipation lingering. it’s not your first time at the fraternity house, but each visit feels different. the mansion, though grand, has a worn charm—earth-toned walls and overgrown grass, with boys constantly darting across the yard. trash cans overflow with aluminum cans, remnants of the never-ending chaos.
“no, i get it, i do. i, you know, am busy all the time.”
“oh, i’m sure,” he says. “are you free next weekend?”
you didn’t even have to check your schedule to know you were free. but you were already here. “well, actually, i just, um…” you feel a bit of your confidence deflating as you trespass their yard. your face flushes and you suddenly feel the eyes of the other brothers staring at your silhouette like curious dogs, unsure of whether to bark or bite. “i was just passing by the neighborhood, i was wondering if i could come over now?”
he yawns. “what? you mean right now?”
“is that alright?”
“how far away are you?”
“yeah, uh, i’m outside your front door.”
“oh?” he says, clearly taken off-guard. the embarrassment finally settles in. what the hell were you doing?
“you know what, never mind. i’m so sorry,” you flush, spinning on your heel and rushing down the steps, avoiding eye contact with the other guys.
you’re not sure if it’s your heart stopping or the phone call ending, but it’s in that moment that the blackwood door opens. you turn around, and the brown-haired boy steps through, looking disheveled, with dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept. though, despite that, he’s in gray sweatpants and a long sleeved black compression shirt.
“y/n, come on in,” luigi says, his voice booming, almost too loud for the quiet pennsylvania street. he glances toward the team of players in the front yard, bringing attention to you all over again. “this is the journalist for the penn.”
you shuffle up the steps again. “it’s called penn daily.”
“right,” he nods, eyes searching your body up and down. “you want a jacket?”
you’re in leggings and a tank top. you’re shivering. “no, no, i like the cold.”
the brown-haired boy shakes his head, grabbing one off the coat rack anyway and tossing it over to you.
“you’ll like the jacket even better.”
as he guides you through the house, the weight of the silence surrounds you. you’ve only ever seen the place during parties—neon LED lights casting strange shadows, tables covered in empty Solo cups and suspicious piles of random powders. it always felt like a place of unrecognizable chaos, where everyone was too busy to think about much else but the next round of shots or whatever game they were playing. but today, in the quiet of the late morning, the house feels different. the lights aren’t flashing, the music isn’t blasting, and there’s no throng of people rushing around. it feels oddly intimate, even though it’s still just as cluttered as always.
“is this what it looks like clean?” you ask, only half-joking.
“be nice,” luigi barks, tone plain as he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. “we had a long night yesterday,” he gestures to the crowds of twentysomethings outside, one group cleaning off the mountain of soda and beer cans off the plastic gray tables, the other playing ping pong. “another long night ahead. you should come.”
the invitation doesn’t sway you, you’re distracted by his face. though his curly hair is neatly cut, and his chocolate brown eyes hold a quiet, dark intensity. his tall frame fills up the room, the way he stands commanding attention without trying. his features are sharp, framed by thick eyebrows, and his smile is small, barely there, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he offers it to you as if it’s expected. there’s an underlying feeling you can’t shake. it’s like you can tell it’s forced. you’ve seen enough of him in passing (and in stalking) to know this isn’t the usual “luigi” you’re used to seeing at parties or around campus.
you bite the inside of your cheek. “you know, if today’s a bad day, you don’t have to—”
“no, babe, it’s fine,” he says, the term rolling off his tongue like it’s second nature.
in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve picked up on his knack for nicknames and gathered you probably shouldn’t be flattered—all the boys in this frat were entirely too flirty.
he pushes the door to his bedroom open, stepping aside to let you in. “shouldn’t take too long, right?”
“sure,” you lie as you slip past him, fingers brushing over the notepad tucked in your back pocket, your mind racing with questions you’re suddenly too aware of.
“well then, it’s no rush,” he says.
quickly, you notice the collection of allergy medication at his desk. a heinous amount of nyquil, half-empty bottles scattered among crumpled tissues and unopened water bottles. it’s almost comical, the way his organized chaos betrays the “untouchable golden boy” image you’d pieced together. his desk, once probably neat and deliberate, now looks like the scene of a losing battle against the flu. curious, you ask, “bad fever?”
luigi laughs dryly. “something bad, that’s for sure.”
you feel yourself sink at the admission. instinctively, you reach up to feel his forehead, your fingers hovering just shy of his skin. it’s a simple gesture, something you wouldn’t think twice about doing for one of your roommates, but as soon as your hand makes contact, he stiffens, his body recoiling ever so slightly. the movement is subtle but enough to make you hesitate, pulling your hand back as his lashes flicker up to meet yours.
“jesus christ,” you gasp. “you’re burning up.”
luigi doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you just a moment too long, his eyes a little softer than usual.
“think i’ll be fine,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to brush it off. it feels more like he’s saying it for both of you than for himself.
a pang of guilt hits you hard—a reminder of how you’d pushed for this interview while he was clearly feeling terrible. all those ridiculous, relentless messages, the nagging about deadlines while he was probably just trying to get through the day. god, you feel like an idiot.
you cup his cheeks, serious. “you should really get to bed.”
“what, and miss the privilege of being interrogated by the penn’s finest?” he teases, leaning into you. you’re struck at how warm he was, how utterly unprofessional you were coming off as, how awful it would be to pull away.
the article, you remind yourself, inching away. “if you pass out mid-question, it’s not going to make for a great article.”
“least i’ll be a shoo-in for the sympathy vote next semester,” luigi says with a wry chuckle, his tone light but laced with something deeper as he glances back up at you, almost as if testing your reaction.
“come on,” he reaches for your hand when you frown, interlocking your fingers and swaying you. he doesn’t pull you too close, something about the way he’s looking at you has you sure he’ll never give you the satisfaction, but your fingers interlock and there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, smugness plain. “i couldn’t let you walk out here so fast. you know what they would say about me if they thought i let down a pretty girl like you?”
you feel your face go pink but your ego won’t let his flirting power last. his forehead was burning hotter than sauna, he probably didn’t know what was even happening. “you look like you haven’t even slept,” you say, matter-of-factly. “would you just sit down?”
“trust me, this headache’ll be gone before you can even say sto meglio con te,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.
he grins as your brow furrows. “you could put that in your article. successful, speaks italian, looks like shit.”
“i didn’t mean that. i’m just worried.” ignoring the fluttering in your stomach and his persistent gaze, you turn your phone over. “i could order you some soup. there’s a really nice pho place down the road—”
“what’re you, my girlfriend?”
“mangione,” you sigh. “you’re being impossible.”
“baby,” he says, the word slipping from his lips with a teasing familiarity that catches you off guard. it pierces straight through your ego, sharp and unexpected. “i promise, ive got way more interesting things to talk about than allergies. come on, ask me.”
before you can react, another voice calls from outside, and you hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. luigi hesitates for a second, glancing at you. a younger group of fraternity brothers peeks in, looking urgent.
“hey, we’ve got a problem with the fundraising paperwork—someone made a mistake with the donations, and it needs to be fixed or we’re going to miss the deadline,” one of them explains, his voice tight with stress.
“who was in charge of that?” luigi asks, a lilt of accusation in his tone.
the younger twentysomethings look around, feigning innocence, avoiding eye contact. “whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “i’ll take care of it.”
he squeezes your hand before he leaves the room, saying, “stay put for me.”
so you sit on his navy blue bed, stiff and idle, your mind wandering as you wait. you text lacy and tell her you’ll catch up with her later as the constant sound of chaos fills your ears. you hear the house scrambling through the halls and luigi’s answering calls and questions, directing people, moving them out the way. the speakers for the party this weekend just got delivered, the delta 3 girls are inviting them to volunteer at their annual car wash, and there’s a leak in the basement that needs immediate attention. after what feels like hours, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. exhaustion pulls at you, and without even realizing it, you fall asleep on his bed, the rhythmic noise of his busy life buzzing around you.
“y/n,” luigi exhales as he finally re-enters the room, his exhaustion evident in every step.
he’s greeted at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, eyes fluttered shut with his jacket blanketed over your silhouette. he’s not so sure what comes over him, but he locks the door. your peaceful slumber is a stark change from the drunk mayhem on the other side of the door, and he’s intent on keeping the peace. the bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside you, too tired for niceties. without a word or a second’s hesitation, he pulls the jacket off you and brings your tired body closer to his.
it starts off innocent. his arms are wrapped around your stomach, your body limp against his. he cradles into the nape of your neck—and you’re so soft and you smell so good, he can’t help himself. he tells himself he won’t take it too far. starting with small, sweet kisses against the side of your neck, almost tickling you out of your unconsciousness. you sleepily squirm under his hold and he’s straining in his sweatpants before he can make sense of it.
“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, to have you this close without touching you. using you.
he grinds his hips against your plump ass. he’s so fucking hard, he really can’t help it. he has to have you, but he can’t bring himself to wake you—you’d been so sweet to him earlier, doe eyes wide with concern—he figures he has to return the favor somehow, right? letting you nap in his bed feels like the least he can do.
“you’ve got no idea how often i lose my mind thinkin’ about this, about you,” he confesses. the noise outside is loud, chaotic—a world away from the quiet intensity between you. it’s too loud for anyone else to know of the secret unfolding here, in the space of his touch and the weight of his gaze.
he’s rougher now, tightening his grip on your hips as he jerks himself into you. you were so worried about him earlier. you’d want this, wouldn’t you? to help him out, make him feel better?
his defense of plausible deniability falls apart piece by piece. one of his hands stray from your hip to your clothed core, rubbing you, desperate for friction. he groans into your back. you were wet, he was sure of it, he had to make sure of it. he slips his hands down your leggings and rushes to palms your wetness. he has to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he was.
you shudder at the touch, slowly bringing yourself from rem to reality. the room is hotter than you remembered, and you almost shriek as you realize luigi’s hands had been all over you. he’s quick to put his hand over your mouth, talking in your ear, “‘m sorry baby, couldn’t resist.”
his sloppy wet kisses are hot against your neck, so frantic, so desperate, so needy, his stubble unnerving you as you squirm under his hold. you can hardly make sense of what’s happening. “luigi.” you mewl as he grinds his clothed cock into you. “what’re you doing?”
he moans at the perfect blend of innocence and surprise twined through your voice. its undeniable now — he can’t spend another second not experiencing you.
“you said you wanted to make me feel better, yeah?” luigi grunts. before you can respond, he’s slipping a finger into your wet pussy. you jolt at the wild unfamiliar storm that grasps you, trying to turn your head over to him, to look at him, to ask him what the hell had gotten into him. he kisses you when your head tilts, his free hand wrapping around your throat.
“that’s so much fuckin’ better,” he tells you, stretching your core out with another two fingers. he’s so eager—so intent on making a mess of you, you’re almost humiliated at how easily you fall apart underneath.
you quiver and shake, and try to twist out of his groping hands, but he doesn’t budge, pressing harder into you. “you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart,” he swears.
“luigi,” you cry, helpless. the friction felt so hot it made you light-headed. the pleasures storms out any logical part of you. “i don’t—i don’t know what to do.”
of course you don’t. you were entirely too sweet, too well-meaning, too fuckin’ stupid to realize how badly he wanted you. running up to him after his gym workout, bright-eyed as you asked him to hang out. not on a date, not even as friends, but for a stupid fucking college paper. he should’ve taken you right there, in the parking lot, let you scream on it so loud the entire campus knew you were his, saved all this goddamn time.
“you’re a fuckin’ virgin?” luigi asks. he needs to hear you say it.
he rips his hand from your aching cunt and you cry out at the loss of friction.
“yes,” you pout.
“any good journalist knows to use specifics.” you see a cocky grin etch onto his lips before he flips you over and brings you in for a proper kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he sinks into you. you kiss him back. you wanted this, whatever it was. “tell me again.”
“i’m a virgin,” you admit, reddening.
he smiles against your cheek before kissing you again—“been waiting for me, yeah? you want me to take you?”
“luigi, please.”
“what’s that?” he says, cruel.
you pout again and try to please him, rushing into another kiss. he captures your lips gladly, but refuses to bring you to the satisfaction of salvation.
all too mean, he points out, “you don’t even know what you’re begging for.”
at this point you were sure you could get drunk off the warmth of him. if you bucked up into the air, you could feel his bulge raging against his sweatpants.
“i want you,” you whine. “i mean—i just—i thought you wanted me too..?”
“of course i do. look at you.” luigi grunts before he strips off his shirt, ripping down your leggings with a force that pulls your body down the bed with him. his dark gaze drifts down.
you flush at the sight of the wet mess all over your legs. “you did all that just for me?” luigi mocks. “you want me that fuckin’ bad?”
“yes,” you have no idea why but you do. you can’t imagine a world where you walk away now and never experience him.
luigi never had any intention of being nice about this. his morals and his plans for the night unraveled the moment his eyes found you sprawled across his bed. harshly, he grips your hips—sure to leave marks, hoping for it—before pounding the entirety of his length into your purity.
the stretch scorches, searing into you. you see white, red, and hell all at once. “luigi—!” you cry out.
“you’re so good,” luigi assures. he tries to pace himself as you fall apart underneath him. he tries he tries he tries—but your inexperienced pussy molds around him, so perfect and wet, he can’t help himself.
you feel everything but perfect. unnerved and wild and overwhelmed, whimpering underneath him like a sick puppy. he fucks into you like he’s itching to see if you’ll break.
“it hurts,” you whine.
“you look so fuckin’ pretty with your legs spread,” luigi says. “can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”
you paw at him, desperate for sacred ground, grip landing on his arms, hard and toned underneath your fingertips. he smirks. “feelin’ me up, sweetheart? you like my arms?”
the sound of skin slapping overtakes your corner of the world. you’d seen him before, but never like this. you’ve never had anything like this.
“luigi.” you whimper. “i can’t, you’re so big—”
“i know, pretty, i know,” he murmurs, kissing the running wet tears down your cheeks. “d’you remember the night you went up to me after the gym? d’you remember what you were wearing?”
you can’t help but claw your fingers deep into his arm muscles, desperate to find a vice for the pain. “oh my god,” you gasp. he pounds into you relentlessly and before you realize, you’re rolling into waves of foreign pleasure.
“stupid fuckin’ tank top,” luigi groans. pleasure storms you as he gets more brazen. he pulls down your camisole, lapping at your tits, biting you, marking you. “wind blew over and i got to see your perfect fuckin’ nipples. wanted to tear you apart right there.”
“what? really?”
“had to jack off in my fuckin’ car thinking about you, about this,” he murmurs before smashing his mouth back onto yours—and this time, you feel more prepared to bear it, melting into his warmth, lips perfectly reunited. you’re shivering under the heat. he fucks you hard into the mattress, hellbent on breaking you in. you’re sure he’s accomplished it already. you’re dizzy and light and on top of the goddamn world.
he sees through you. “fuckin’ close?”
“i-i think so—”
“so fuckin’ stupid,” he muses. “stupid fuckin’ virgin, doesn’t even know when she’s gonna cum.”
“you’re so mean,” you whine.
“yeah, you think so?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hand strikes your cheek. the sting blooms like fire, another cruel signature of his dominance, a mark left behind in his endless quest to tarnish the golden purity you wear so effortlessly. his wicked touch moves down to your delicate clit and the sparks of pleasure turn into storms. you’re done for, waves of white gushing around him as you cry out his name.
“oh god,” luigi groans. “such a good girl, creamin’ on it like that. so perfect.”
the jolt of pleasure within you only makes you more sensitive. this time, when his hands return to your body, they’re clamped around your neck. he’s pulling into you, punishing your delicate cunt. as you quiver and froth, his thrusts grow sloppy and he rasps again—this time more guttural, more intense—and soon enough you feel his huge cock twitch inside of you, sending streams of his seed into your stomach.
he joins your silhouette on the bed, his warmth melting into yours as he pulls you close. his arms wrap around you, steady and secure, and his lips press softly to your forehead.
“‘m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “didn’t mean to get so rough.”
you struggle to find the breath, then the words, “no, i—i think it was fine.”
he looks at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze deepening with quiet admiration. “just fine?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful disbelief.
you meet his gaze, your heart fluttering, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you hum,
“penn’s finest.”
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Can I have a scenario where Law is jealous of Bepo because you’re always hugging and cuddling with him like the big cuddle bear he is but Law is too shy to admit that he’s jealous
A/N: Hi there!! I had a lot of fun writing this I hope you enjoy! Pairing: Law x Reader CW: none just fluff WC: ~800
It’s truly hard to resist the lure of the comfort that Bepo brings. Everyone knows this. Everyone on the crew has succumbed to the furry comfort of the polar bear, and you were no different. Especially during those cold winters, trying to steal Law’s body warmth is not enough, so you often turned to the furry companion.
You often found yourself nestled comfortably against Bepos warm fur. As you lay there, you caught a glimpse of a certain captain out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but notice that something was wrong. You would notice how his stares would linger on the two of you when you were cuddling, or how his attitude would be the slightest more passive aggressive if you were to talk to him after cuddling the polar bear.
You brushed off any thoughts of jealousy, chalking up the more sour behavior to stress from future plans. As the days went by though, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was indeed something wrong with Law, yet every time you would confront him, you would be met with a short and sweet “nothing’s wrong.”
‘Nothing’s wrong’ he claimed, yet those stares never stopped that constant upset mood never stopped. It’s as if he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo or something… holy shit he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo!
Once you put two and two together, you couldn’t help but find this all amusing. His denial of anything being wrong was slightly infuriating, but his lack of communication is something you would work on later. For now, your main focus is exploiting that newly discovered jealousy until he owns up to it.
You started purposefully avoiding Law as often as you could to cuddle with Bepo. Every time he would see you, you would be cuddled into the side of the polar bear. This only heightened his jealousy further and further with each passing day.
Today, the Polar Tang was surfaced, and the crew took the opportunity to go star gazing at night. All of you lay on the main deck, watching the stars above, and you of course were planted right in the arms of Bepo, your new favorite spot. The crew was passing around food and drinks, chatting and laughing under the night sky, until Law left the group early. He was quieter than normal tonight, and you were honestly wondering if you were starting to take this jealousy thing too far.
Then, a blue bubble encompassed the entire deck and suddenly, you were no longer on the main deck in Bepos arms, but you were in the captains quarters, in Laws lap.
You stammered in confusion, trying to make sense of the disorientation caused by the sudden teleportation. Law’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him. As if by instinct, you melted into his arms, your body molding into his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You nuzzled your head into his neck, mumbling against his skin. “Are you okay?” The care for him evident in your tone.
He let out a small grunt in response, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Just stay with me for a bit,” he muttered to you, a subtle vulnerability laced in his voice.
With a hum, you settled further into his arms, taking in the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body right against yours. The tension that had been building finally began to dissipate the more you settled into his touch. His tight grip around you softened, and you could feel his worries easing with the sigh he let out. It was as if all the weight of his jealousy had been lifted off his shoulders.
You nestled closer to him, resting your head against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. It’s moments like these where words are not needed, just each other's presence. He rested his head against your own.
Law broke the silence, “I’m sorry,” he murmured against your skin. “ “for acting so…” he trailed off, not quite sure how to articulate his feelings.
“Jealous?” you finished for him, your voice gentle as you looked at him with understanding. A pause filled the air as he took in that word. ‘Jealous’. Law hesitated for a moment before he finally nodded with reluctant agreement.
“Yeah, jealous.” he admitted, confirming your thoughts.
You sensed his discomfort and shifted in his lap to get more comfortable. “You know,” you began, your voice tender as you reached up and brushed a stray hair from his face. “This is my favorite place. Right here, with you.” you punctuated your words by squeezing him tight.
His eyes softened at your words, “Good,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “lets keep it that way.”
#nina responds~✦#nina writes~✦#one piece x reader#trafalgar law#trafalgar d law x reader#one piece fluff#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader
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