#trying to work through the jealousy but it hurts seeing my partner with someone else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elf-osamu · 3 years ago

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Hii! Can I request (female or gn) reader x Jouno, Tecchou, Ranpo, Fyodor and Nikolai? And that reader is maybe jealous cuz boys show too much attention to another person? Thank you and have a nice day/night!

hey :) thank you for requesting ! i wrote this thinking about the main reasons one might be jealous of someone (for example, being insecure about oneself), tbh i'm not really fond of jealousy 😭; also i apologise for the wait ! i hope this is to your liking anyway <3. btw, just so you know, i don't write girl readers/nm. and have a good day/night too !!

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JŌNO, TECCHŌ, RANPO, FYODOR, NIKOLAI W/ AN INSECURE!JEALOUS!READER

[ masterlist ]

hurt/comfort, romantic relationship, saigiku jōno, tecchō suehiro, ranpo edogawa, fyodor dostoevskij, nikolai gogol (separately) x gn!reader

warning(s) : use of pet names, slight jealousy, insecurities about oneself, reader has low self-esteem, anxiety thoughts, food mentions, slight cursing

words count : 3,719 words (i wrote these one-shots in the span of one month so their writing styles are all a bit different ig 😭)

plot : “you see your partner spending a lot of time with someone whom you don't know. anxiety thoughts fill your mind. are you good enough? does he still love you?”

SAIGIKU JŌNO :

[ ☆ ] i believe that jōno wouldn't disclose his true job to his partner, or at least not at the beginning of your relationship.

[ ☆ ] he'd simply say that it consists in something really similar to a civil servant or smth like that.

[ ☆ ] you wouldn't question his affirmation. everyone has their own secrets, right?

saigiku jōno wasn't a bad partner, not at all.

spending time with a fascinating person like him was entertaining and almost inspiring, somehow. you were amazed by his cunning and keenness, by his peculiar ways of discussing certain topics, by his dazzling grin and many, many other qualities of his.

one thing that, however, you worried about, was his job. you couldn't seemed to understand how your boyfriend spent all those hours preceded by a soft “i'm going to work, see you tonight”.

normally you wouldn't have cared, but every day after he got home he was clearly stressed, even if he always admitted the opposite. after taking a quick shower, saigiku would lock himself in his studio to still work. you'd have liked to at least lend him a hand, even if that wouldn't have meant knowing the true nature of his job.

also, he was often on call with other people whose names you didn't know, probably his colleagues, discussing some kind of problem at work.

you completely ignored the severity of their tasks.

today was no different from other nights: the side of the mattress next to you was cold, it being untouched from your lover; the only sounds you could hear were the ones of your own breath; you felt incredibly lonely, as if no one else lived in that house.

and yes, a bit jealous of his associates.

you sighed as you looked at your bedroom's ceiling.

of course jōno had to think about his job and spend time with his colleagues, but also you were a person present in his life who deserved a bit of his company, weren't you?

[ ☆ ] as minutes and minutes passed, you took courage and went to confront saigiku about your feelings on the matter.

[ ☆ ] surprisingly, he proved to be very understanding and he apologized for his inattentive, careless behaviour.

[ ☆ ] “despite my demeanor, i'd like to let you know that you are not a nuisance in this relationship. i won't make the same mistake twice, you can be sure of that”.

[ ☆ ] and he really means it. jōno is a man of his word.

TECCHŌ SUEHIRO :

it didn't happen anything particular that day; the windy weather brought a cold but bearable air, which only made you slightly shiver.

however, along with it, a melancholic feeling was slowly breaking through your heart, like a swift arrow trying to pierce its distant target.

the said disgressing sensation was indeed persistent in its purpose of spoiling your mood, not wanting to leave you even for an instant. it metaphorically resembled a shadow, always in your company even in the moments when you absently forgot it.

you knew that there was no reason to feel upset, it was just one of those bad days that were a part of this miserable, sorrowful yet beautiful life.

nevertheless, you asked yourself why you had to be in that state in that specific evening.

“[name], do you have any idea what to order?”

you looked up from your menu to where your boyfriend was, or sitted in front of you, and you slightly sighed while a shy grin made his way to your lips.

he was ethereal in his suit.

“not yet, there are too many delicacies to choose from. what about you?”

“to tell the truth, me neither. i'll ask the waiters to wait a few more minutes.”

that specific evening was a date with your partner, who was usually busy at work to spend his time with you - and you too were busy with your job and private life, for the matter. it was rare to have moments like those, to forget about the rest and enjoy a peaceful moment together.

coincidentally, however, you didn't feel very well; you had little to no energy that wouldn't have been enough for you to hide your discomfort. yet you didn't want to talk about it to him, you didn't want to bother suehiro on such an uncommon occasion.

after some time, a staff's member came up to your table and you two said your own orders. you couldn't help but notice that all the time they looked at your boyfriend, almost ignoring your presence, and you felt a bit uneasy.

tetchō was a kind of oblivious person in regard of others' attempt to flirt with him, he didn't really notice nor cared about it. neither you normally did, but in moments like those you clung to anything slightly suspicious and immediately saw the worst possible scenario.

i'm just exaggerating, that's for sure. gosh, i'm really tired, my head seems to be imploding.

when they left, your boyfriend took your hand in his.

“by the way, we haven't discussed properly about our lives yet. how are you doing, my dear? did anything worth, or not, mentioning happen?” he asked with his gentle voice, eyes fixed on yours.

suehiro was a kind and caring soul, though not without his own secrets. when he told you about his job, you were a bit skeptical at first; however, after truly knowing him, you found out that he wasn't as merciless as it seemed: he had a big heart, seeking justice for those who couldn't afford to find it for themselves.

certainly, not always in the most desiderable way possible.

as the evening went by, that staff member found any excuse to go back to your table and talk to your partner. you had no energy to reply back or to talk about your discomfort to tetchō, so you remained silent while uneasiness was devouring your heart.

tetchō, being the polite person he was, didn't cause any fuss nor he noticed their intentions; he always responded calmly at them, ending up talking to them more than you.

[ ☆ ] after paying for dinner, you both headed to his car, respectively sitting on the driver's and passenger's seats.

[ ☆ ] “i... i would like to talk to you about something; i'm not really sure how to say it, though,” you said in a whisper, looking at your intertwined fingers that were laying on your lap, not wanting to face him.

[ ☆ ] “love, you don't have to say anything that you wouldn't prefer to disclose. perhaps, it'd be better if we were in a more quiet place?”, your partner genuinely asked, worried about your well-being.

[ ☆ ] you silently nodded.

[ ☆ ] he drove for a while, then parked in front of the sea. it was a quiet night.

[ ☆ ] “would it be okay for you if i vented right now?”

[ ☆ ] “of course, [name].”

[ ☆ ] so you started your monologue, from your negative thoughts to the staff person at the restaurant, not without biting your lips to avoid crying. you felt miserable.

[ ☆ ] tetchō, after you finished, asked if he could hug you.

[ ☆ ] whatever your answer is, he wouldn't complain.

[ ☆ ] “i'm terribly sorry for not having noticed your state. next time, please, let me know and don't feel forced at all to do anything you don't want to.”

[ ☆ ] “also, when you ever feel like this, keep in mind that i love only you.” <3

RANPO EDOGAWA :

[ ☆ ] before starting with the request...

[ ☆ ] i think you and him, at the beginning of your dating story, had a mutual agreement to absolutely respect your personal spaces.

[ ☆ ] what i mean, in this case, is that ranpo would never use his great deduction-skills on you without your permission.

[ ☆ ] this rule allows you to decide what you want to share and what not with him, instead of being read like a book in five seconds and not having a minimum of privacy.

[ ☆ ] so, he wouldn't understand right away if something (or someone) is making you uncomfortable (and this is true in general, in every kind of relationship communication is the key).

[ ☆ ] anyway, it was a day like another...

ranpo had many cases to solve, along with different candy shops to explore for the sake of his own palate. they were sorted with all kinds of sweets, from lollipops to colorful marshmallows to mini cakes. your boyfriend's eyes were full of pure joy at the sight of all those delicacies.

you softly sighed, a small smile was forming on your lips. there weren't many things that ranpo enjoyed, so you were glad that he found in sweet treats something that piqued his interest.

after purchasing the greatest detective’s favourite snacks, you two proceeded with the pursuance of his case. normally, he would go out with his other colleagues, but today he asked for your sole presence. perhaps it was his way to spend time with you, since his daily schedule was usually full.

“remind me again, what else we need to do? we solved this case, didn't we?” ranpo genuinely asked, picking a fruit jelly from its package and offering it to you.

“almost,” you replied, swallowing the candy while muttering a quick ‘thank you’. you took from your backpack the folder containing all information about the case - being one of the detective agency's secretaries had its advantages - and then you checked the texts on your phone. “now, now... ah, yes. one of the victim's sibling, who is also their legal guardian and a witness to this case, wants to talk to us; kunikida said that you could be familiar with them. their name is...” you pronounced it.

“oh, right, i know them! they were involved in another case, many years ago. at the time i was twenty and, since we had the same age, the president let me keep them company”.

“it could be that they just discovered that you were assigned to this case, so it's kind of an opportunity to reconnect with you” you thought aloud, attempting to steal a marshmallow from your boyfriend, widely grinning after succeding in it.

ranpo jokingly pouted, “hey! i bought them with my own money”, and in response you kissed him.

“you jerk...” ranpo murmured, biting his bottom lip, clearly trying to hide his smile.

you two continued to tease each other on the way to the agency; when you arrived at your workplace, you composed yourselves and went to the hall, where the victim's sibling was waiting for ranpo.

you decided to leave your partner some space and went to the coffee table, filling your personal mug with the sour drink. you took a sip of it, and in the meantime you set up your messy desk, writing down in your notebook the main information about the case, which you would then have to write as a report.

you could hear the two of them chatting about their first encounter, laughing of the old days, and a tinge of jealousy formed in your heart.

ranpo wasn't one to befriend with witnesses nor victims, as all the agency members he was professional when the time came, however they seemed pretty close...

i should concentrate on my work. why am i even thinking about such shallow matters? we are literally dating and they are a witness, that's all. i'm just overthinking things.

nevertheless, you lifted up your gaze, anxiety creeping within you. they were still talking, but the witness had put a hand on ranpo's shoulder.

you freezed. ranpo detested physical contact, only a few people could dare to touch him; yet he didn't move.

maybe they were dating those years ago? ranpo seems comfortable with them. of course he would, they are nice, beautiful, and they have an angelic voice. they seem to have all the qualities that i lack of. no wonder that-

you slapped yourself mentally. you had to focus on your notes or else you could end up indulging more in those thoughts.

“thank you again, i'm grateful for your work in regard of my sibling. now i shall take my leave,” you heard saying, then the witness quickly left the agency quarters.

you slowly sighed in relief, although you felt bad for what you have thought; you shouldn't have doubted ranpo's loyalty and trust. gosh, why were you such a mess?

you took your head in your hands, closing your eyelids; though you didn't notice your boyfriend, who was reaching your side.

“[name], what's the matter?” he whispered, not wanting to scare you.

[ ☆ ] he sat on your lap while you explained him the situation.

[ ☆ ] ur man would reassure you with cuddles and snacks, along with kind words.

[ ☆ ] “i won't lie, that touch made me a bit uncomfortable, but they didn't know that i generally despise it. plus, for me they are just a witness, nothing more.”

[ ☆ ] “my dear, i love you and you only. let's head home to spend time together, shall we?”

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKIJ :

[ ☆ ] i imagine fyodor being someone that goes frequently to libraries, spending hours sitting on a wooden chair, reading books of every kind, mainly the classic, philosophical and psychological ones, which explore human nature.

[ ☆ ] if given the opportunity, he would gladly talk about his opinions on various topics.

[ ☆ ] though, he only talks about it in depth with a trusted person with whom he finds himself at ease.

[ ☆ ] so it kinda became your thing to talk about different matters and ideas in the said quiet place.

[ ☆ ] in this one-shot i used the russian diminutive of the name fyodor, that is “fedya” (федя).

as you entered the gothic library, you detected the familiar scent of old books. the atmosphere of the past still lingered between those walls, there were few traces of the modern world there - as if one wanted to maintain the grandeur of the building.

that hadn't really been a great day for you, your self-esteem wasn't the best and you sure needed some kind of comfort. you silently hoped that fyodor would bring you reassurance through his silvery voice and crisp speeches.

you headed to the philosophy & psychology section, remembering that your partner informed you of his location beforehand.

you found him reading an old tome and at the same time writing something down on his notebook.

“hi, fedya,” you murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. although you couldn't see it, the corners of his lips rose in an affectionate smile. “good afternoon, darling”.

you took a seat next to him, watching intently the way he was smoothly writing on the white paper. strands of dark hair adorned his pale, delicate skin while his amethyst eyes, illuminated by the light of the room, were softly glimmering at the book's pages.

how could an almost angelic being like him be with you? probably, it would always remain a mystery.

“fyodor, i'm back- oh? who are they?” someone behind both of you asked.

you jumped on the spot, surprised by the new voice; turning around, you looked at the person who had just spoken. you were certain that they weren't someone you knew, perhaps they were a fyodor's friend?

“they are [name], my partner,” your boyfriend replied calmly, without turning back. “and [name], they are a regular customer of the library as us, we met just a few hours ago”. precise and concise as always, without saying more than necessary.

“oh, it's a pleasure to meet you. i didn't think that a bookworm like him could have a partner,” they jokingly said, causing you to stiff in your chair.

“the pleasure is mine,” you returned the greeting, although you were a bit skeptical of the new... acquaintance.

as they and fyodor, close-knit, began talking about some philosopher you did know nothing about, insecurities invaded your mind.

now, fyodor wasn't one to befriend people so easily, was he? it was rare of him to be interested in people, unlike material goods, which seemed to greatly satisfy him, to fill the void in his heart. you felt foolish and terrible for thinking such things, but maybe... just maybe...

“i apologise folks, but i must bid you farewell,” the person near fyodor said in a fake melodramatic tone, standing up and putting on their coat, “i hope we'll meet again”.

[ ☆ ] some moments later, you laid your head on the table, snorting at yourself for being so insecure.

[ ☆ ] i hc fyodor to be someone who reads body language well, so of course he knew what you were thinking all this time.

[ ☆ ] “i must say, i am not usually fond of people, you know for sure. but, in spite of this, i can say that you, my dear, are an exception. you are my one and only. truly”.

[ ☆ ] jjk reference who.

[ ☆ ] fyodor uses words to reassure you ! he's not really a hugger.

NIKOLAI GOGOL :

[ ☆ ] let's forget for the time being that he's a wanted t3rror!st, shall we?

[ ☆ ] obviously i'm not asking this because otherwise i wouldn't know what to write for this one-shot, pff haha why would you assume such a thing/s

[ ☆ ] nikolai couldn't you have a normal job or smth you f*cker/lh/j

[ ☆ ] anyway, in this one-shot i used the russian diminutive of the name nikolai, that is “kolya” (коля).

having an outgoing personality allowed nikolai to easily get to know people: his friendly and warm nature captured the hearts of others, as a comfortable sweater on one's figure, making it almost difficult to ignore him.

of course, there were some that found his unreserved temperament to be a source of annoyance, which however your boyfriend didn't care about at all.

perhaps it was this nonchalance of his that made you fell in love with kolya, the way it didn't matter to him what the others thought of him as long as he could do whatever he desired.

“babe, are you listening to me?”, a familiar, husky but pleasant voice brought you back to reality.

your boyfriend, who was sitting next to you, was looking at you with a confused expression.

“oh, sorry kolya, i was lost in thought. what were you saying?”

“i was wondering whether you wanted popcorns - and sharing them with me - or something else” he explained while running a hand through his hair. “the others already ordered their snacks for the movie”.

“popcorns are just fine,” you replied with a hint of a smile, “thank you”.

he leaned over slightly to leave a kiss on your lips. “no problem. extra large cup, 'm i right?”, you quickly nodded. then he stood up, heading to the cashier.

the so-called ‘others’ were a bunch of people about your age, that you and nikolai had just met there, at the cinema's hallway, waiting to enter the movie room. coincidentally, kolya found out that your seats were close, so why shouldn't you all befriend?

truth was that, despite being constantly reminded by your boyfriend that he truly loved and adored you, your self-esteem wasn't the best; many people admired him, so why did he chose you? and, too preoccupied to pay attention to your (untruthful) thoughts, you had no energy to socialise and talk to complete strangers.

“i'm here~ oh, we can enter in the room now!” your partner exclaimed; one of his arms was holding the huge portion of popcorn, while the other went to loosely rest on your waist.

he had noticed your bad mood, it was just that he didn't know how to approach it and if it was the best decision to make anyway. he was the type to joking around to lift up others' mood, but openly talk about it? it wasn't really his thing, mainly because he wasn't so in touch with his feelings as he seemed to be.

you two followed the new-formed group, discussing the possible endings and plot-twists of the movie, even though you all had only watched the trailer.

after taking your seats, the movie started.

some time passed, between a scene and another; nikolai talked a bit with you and a bit with the other person next to him, but then he arrived at a point where he was speaking only to them and you were the one eating your shared popcorn.

i must not get upset. there's nothing wrong with what they are doing, they are simply having a conversation, aren't they? why am i so f*cking irritable today?

you couldn't lie to yourself, you felt a little neglected by the whole thing; it would have been a different story if that had been an evening with friends, however they were just an unknown person. but they weren't doing anything strange, right?

[ ☆ ] as you continued to ignore your susceptibility by being silent instead of speak up, the movie ended and so, after saying goodbye to the ‘others’, you two left the cinema.

[ ☆ ] at the cinema's exit, you took your boyfriend's hand and started playing with his fingers, a sign that you were nervous.

[ ☆ ] a few minutes later, nikolai stopped his footsteps and looked at you, forcing you to stand in front of his eyes.

[ ☆ ] “my love, what's wrong? y'know you can tell me anything”

[ ☆ ] “kolya it's nothing-”

[ ☆ ] “[name]... if you don't feel like explaining it to me right now, it's fine. but, don't lie to me, please.”

[ ☆ ] after some hesitant moments, you started talking about your feelings in regard of the previous situation.

[ ☆ ] nikolai waited in silence, while he was hugging you, leaving some soft kisses on your face, there and there, to encourage you to talk.

[ ☆ ] in the end he would reassure you a lot !!

[ ☆ ] and he would make up for that night doing a movie marathon at his place with you and you only.

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[ do not copy, translate, repost, etc. | by @ elf-osamu ]

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astrologysbabe · 2 years ago

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Pluto in the 7th house

Oh, baby, it’s you It’s only the beginning, the limitless me From the start of the East to the end of the West The light gets stronger as it spreads through the darkness Open your eyes, my song is getting louder Did you see that hot and explosive world? Can you hear it? We have become one

Pluto represents both our personal power and the shadow of our personality. In Pluto we find everything that we repudiate about ourselves and everything that we need to keep in the shadow because we find it ugly, shameful or too difficult to deal with.

So, those born with Pluto in the 7th house need to be careful not to project their shadow onto the other person (their fears and complexes) or to not attract manipulative people who try to exert control over them. But why?

Because on Pluto we also have our source of power, and when it is present in the 7th house, our power is projected.

To use the planet positively, look for relationships that empower and transform you, and vice versa. Beware of that irresistible and magnetic attraction that has toxic elements.

You deserve someone who reveals him/herself and gives him/herself to you. This is a great placement for working on your shadow through someone else.

Pluto in 7th house brings the challenge of having deep and transforming relationships based on the awareness of oneself and the other.

As a positive characteristic, Pluto's position in the 7th house makes these natives want to find great passion and affection for another person. However, it is necessary to find emotional balance for these relationships to thrive.

These natives have a challenge, as they prefer to make decisions by logic and reason, rather than acting with emotion. This has a positive point, which makes them take better attitudes, but can hurt the other people involved.

As a negative characteristic, natives with the influence of Pluto in the 7th house tend to be destructive in relationships. In contradiction to this, Pluto usually awakens deep feelings related to this house.

Another negative point of this influence is a tendency to betrayal, jealousy and abuse, as well as difficulties in trusting your relationships. In this way, the deepest bonds with people end up not being strengthened. In addition, they begin to see their darker side in others.

Pluto represents both the reforming impulse and the destructive impulse. It rules our deepest subconscious and, as it embodies the principle of transformation and regeneration, it can bridge the spiritual and material worlds.

Usually natives attract people who are extremely energetic in some specific aspect, whether good or not, and that, through the relationship, this aspect will be brought to the surface and will cause mutual changes, conflicting or not. It is as if projecting one's own identity onto the other becomes explicit in that position. So natives must always be aware of their views of relationships and people they choose to be close to.

Every person is a lesson, and Pluto is a harsh teacher here.

The natives can attract many people with huge egos and people who like to dominate through shouting and imposing their will. It may be that there is a nullification of the native's will, or it may be that the things he/she says are not taken into account by the partner.

And it is precisely this wound that Pluto will touch, that of making you know how to impose your will in the face of dominating people and extreme situations. When you're invited by the planet Pluto to transform, traits you didn't know you had are revealed. In other words, when you learn to stand up to others, you end up discovering more about yourself and your inner strength that you didn't know before.

Pluto in the 7th is dealing not only with the pure side, but with the rotten side of the people the natives relate to, thus they become better able to understand themselves and heal the rottenness in themselves (usually through other people).

Those who have Pluto in the 7th house will experience intense emotions and discover less than noble feelings, their dark side mirrored in other people. Pluto in the 7th represents the alchemists and also the final product, but the others become the instrument of transmutation.

And it's all about learning, because in this position, relationships are the source of deep transformations. It is necessary to learn to better impose your wills, in a balanced and healthy way, to learn to position yourself more in the face of relationships. It's important to know how to choose what kind of people you want in your life, otherwise life will end up choosing for you. But one thing is for sure, with this placement you need to learn to be more cautious with others and especially with yourself, your choices, your desires, what you allow to enter your life, because Pluto likes an impossible passion.

I believe the biggest influence is the personal transformation that relationships bring, any kind of more serious relationship, be it a marriage or a partnership, for example. The associations for those who have this position make a person's life change, they are transition points, the before-after is very evident. But it is not always a light path, it is often intense.

The native tends to be attracted to Plutonic people. The plutonic person will always be spewing out the rotten side of humanity "I want status, power, revenge, I want, I want this and that". The bright side is that any partnership the natives make will take them out of their comfort zone. The downside is the negative effects, including psychological or emotional ones, on this native's life.

In short, the natives relate to Pluto himself in person.

And that goes for both LOVE and FRIENDSHIPS, other types of relationships.

The challenge is for you to identify the right friendships, cultivate them, and who is not worth it you can't get involved, because it can harm you. So, try to be more analytical, evaluate people's interior more. You need to wait for the correct time for things.

Enjoy your own presence and learn to love yourself, don't seek to get involved with toxic people, don't relate without preparation, cultivate being alone, preserving your peace and quiet.

Baby, I don’t want nobody but you

Inside, only you're allowed

The one to take my heart, that is you

I need a connection, I want it like crazy

I need you

I need something to make us completely feel each other

I need that, I need you

- Limitless, NCT

#pluto in 7th house #pluto in the 7th house #pluto #astrology #kpop astrology

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librarianandguardian · 3 years ago

Text

The reality of feeling - SkyxFem!Reader - Pt. 1

Pairing : Sky x Fem!MindFairy!Reader

Words : 1036

Warnings : Angst, Swearing, brief mention of possible drowning, OOC Stella (Very mean and b*tchy. Sorry to her fans)

Request from @fatewinxsagalover : Hiii! I have a request could you do a sky x Female!reader( mind fairy)Reader where sky fell in love with her then ask her out. After when he found out that she can control mind he’s questioning if his love for her is real or she manipulated him. She also left Alfea cuz she was scared of what gonna happen to her and when the burn one attack the school she came back to help Can you make lot of angst and fluff at the end :) thank you

A.N : I’m so sorry this took so long. I’ve been overwhelmed by my new work and what’s been happening around in France. I change this a lot through my writing sessions, but I think I’ve settle onto something satisfying. I would like to remind you of one little thing : if you are in a relationship with someone, communication is very important. Sometimes it’s hard for several reasons (not wanting to hurt, scared of being judged...) to deal with some subjects, but keeping stuff under the carpet is only gonna make things worse. Talk around to your friends or family first if you need, but never let a situation get ouf of hand. And if it does, learn from that mistake. YOU are just as important as your partner.

Most times, it feels like adults forget how strongly young people feel. How confusing it can get for them. The turmoil can be so intense that it leads to regrets, unspoken fears or feelings. The world is harsh, but youth is harsher.

It wasn’t meant to go down this way. She should’ve had control. He loved her. As forever as young love allows. It should’ve been fun, stupid love quarrels between friends, boys and food; and then graduation. He never should’ve known. But anger got the best of her, like it always did at some point.

Sky knew (Y/N) was a mind fairy, the specificity of it still unknown however. The subject seemed touchy for the girl, always shying away from it.

“It’s just… It’s hard to control. But when I’m with you, I’m okay. I know everything will be fine.”

As the smart young man he was, he figured pushing her to talk couldn’t do any good. As long as it wasn’t dangerous, nothing was to be feared. Fairies’ powers were hell during teenagehood. Strong violent emotions take over many minds, leading to regretful accidents. Needless to say, having Sky as a boyfriend could be a bit of a challenge. Not that he was hard to be around; heavens no, he was the sweetest. He tried his best. However, the girls around always trying to flirt…

(Y/N) only doubted herself when it came to powers. They appealed to her darkest ideas in her wildest fits of rage. With perseverance, she could become a wonderful fairy, never giving in dangerous ways. Her biggest fear lied in her conceivable failure to do so. But never her middle class background ashamed her. No need for money or fame, just hard work. She couldn’t care less about her social status. Sky was her safe haven, her pillar in the hardships of training. No, what pissed her off about the flirty girls was their constant need to bring her down. Especially Stella of Solaria.

Ew, cheap clothes. What is that on your face ? You’re not going to that party ? Ever did that ? No ? What a shame. How could you have though…

She could have taken it all. The princess seemed rather superficial, so why bother. What broke the dam was this one off-hand comment. Sky and her took some time off to walk around campus. Giggling, kissing and hugging, the birds sang high in the trees. They passed through the Specialist training field. The boy started a conversation with some of his friends, (Y/N) smiling, unsure of what else to do. To add to the tension, Stella was here, clanging onto a boy’s arm like a parasite. As you were about to bid your goodbyes, audacity flamed Stella’s mind up. If you looked deeper into her eyes, you could easily see the jealousy. Sky was rumored to be of royal blood, so why would he be with you ?

“I really don’t see what Sky loves about you. Unless you made him love you, you know with...”

The boy stopped dead in his tracks, ready to get back at her. (Y/N) tugged his sweater.

“Please, let’s just go.”

Sky sighed, death glaring at the blonde girl. He turned his back, while Stella laughed.

“I knew it. Who would want to date a fairy that can control minds, honestly. Much less a rumored prince. Looking for a fairytale, honey ?”

(Y/N) winced, angry. Her boyfriend had once again stopped walking, this time looking at her. A million questions raced in his mind, waiting for his lover to answer. She never did, fighting hard to not make a mistake. A long silence later, he let go of her hand. Her eyes shot up to his.

“Ah. And she never told you. Bad move. Controlled his mind by accident and got stuck with him ? You can’t tame your beasty instincts. You really think he’s helping you ? Aren’t you helping your…”

Last drop.

“You bitch. You shut the fuck up !”

(Y/N)’s eyes glowed purple as she took control of Stella. The girl was scared out of her mind. It had gone too far.

“Have you ever thought of closing it ? What a princess you do, insulting your subjects to drown your pitiful jealousy. Jump in the pond !”

Stella had gone too far. But was this petty revenge worth it ? Sky pondered the question many weeks until the end of the year. (Y/N) had been suspended right after the pond incident. None of them had the chance to talk. On top of that, (Y/N) wasn’t answering any of his texts. As the days rolled in, other doubts fogged his mind, leading him to sleepless nights. Did she really love him ? Why would she mind control him anyway ? On the last day of school, Silva came to him to check on the boy. His father figure sighed, embarrassed.

“Listen. Farah is negotiating for her to come back with Queen Luna.”

The boy snapped his head.

“But. (Y/N) will be taken care of this summer. She asked for it herself. No more contact with anyone from the school. Full disconnect from everything.”

Sky rubbed his face, looking down.

“Do you think she… You know.”

Silva thought for a second. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he leaned down to try and catch Sky’s eyes.

“I can’t answer that Sky. From my perspective, It looked real, took time to build. You guys are still teenagers. Take your time. Give her some. (Y/N) will gladly let you know if she did or not.

-If she ever comes back.”

The Specialist Headmaster tightened his grip on the shoulder.

“Farah thinks she will next year. First thing in september.”

Sky had not let his heart fully break after the incident. He knew (Y/N) had fits of rage. And he thought maybe if she didn’t talk to him about her powers, it was due to a fear of looking like a monster to him. But she wasn’t right ? Nothing made sense. As the last light of Alfea’s corridor turned off for the night, he cried himself to sleep.

He missed her. Or was he still under her spell ?

-> Part 2...

#fate the winx saga #sky x fem!reader #fate sky #sky x reader #x reader #imagine #request #angst

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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

Text

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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ciaossu-imagines · 2 years ago

Note

Uhh, kuro from servamp with female or gender neutral eve, the eve is in a relationship and kuro is jealous. Is this a good prompt?😭😭

Aww, no crying faces!! Absolutely no need for them, my dear @spookyhairbrush!! I swear, to anyone out there reading, that there is absolutely no such thing as a bad prompt! There really isn't! I've actually chilled out a lot for the most part but even if a prompt is something I can't write or don't feel comfortable writing, it's never a bad prompt! Just not my thing! This, though, I will definitely do my best at writing, though I'm pretty sure it might not be quite what you're after!

I personally don't feel that Kuro is naturally a very jealous person. It does take a lot to inspire that emotion in him but Servamps and their Eves can get very close and there is definitely an emotional bond of some sort between even the most dysfunctional Eve and Servamp duo. If they did have that strong bond, I could definitely see Kuro getting jealous, whether it was because he did feel romantically towards his Eve or simply in the sense of...well, his Eve is his. That's his person and probably the most important person to him currently and someone else is coming in and there's a risk that they'll become more important to his Eve or that he might lose his Eve. Any jealousy Kuro does feel will definitely be rooted in just a little fear.

However, Kuro is the embodiment of sloth as well. He's lazy and doesn't like troublesome things or getting all worked up. No matter how much jealousy he is feeling, he'll never be overly dramatic about it or very obvious. It just takes too much work. In his mind, it's easier to just sulk and be jealous and hope 'the trash takes itself out' and the situation resolves itself.

That's not to say his jealousy won't show itself at all. A lot of the time that his Eve's partner was around Kuro, Kuro would be in his cat state and though violence is not what he wants and something he tries to avoid, he will behave like the most asshole cat around this person. The claws will come out, figuratively and literally. So many scratches and he will definitely bite them should they try to pet him or pick him up or get close and tell his Eve what a cute cat they had. This person's drinks will always be swatted off tables, he will walk through their food or eat it himself. He will meow and whine if his Eve and them are talking to the point it would be hard to hold a conversation. He will drape himself in any way he can over his Eve in cat form or cuddle up in their lap to prevent any physical contact between his Eve and their romantic partner.

When his Eve's romantic partner isn't around and Kuro is in his human form, he would lazily and low-key, but very clearly make it known he didn't much like their lover. He insults them until his Eve gets upset at him and then he sulks.

Overall though, I can't see him confessing any romantic feelings he might have or talking to his Eve about what is driving his jealousy. Attempts to do so would fluster him or annoy him. It's just a lot of work for this lazy cat and he would hope that the relationship would just implode.

However, if it did become clear that this person does truly make his Eve happy, that they truly love and care for his Eve and they treat his Eve well, I do think even this behaviour would die down once Kuro saw this. And for once it would have nothing to do with simply being too lazy to do it. Kuro wants, above all, for his Eve to be happy and healthy and as safe as they can be. He wants for them to have a great life and if their romantic partner of choice could give it to them, probably more than he could ever do, Kuro would want that for his Eve, no matter how much it hurts him or makes his insides feel all funny or makes him unhappy. He lives a lot longer than his Eve...he can suffer for longer than they can as well without it making a huge difference.

I think the only time Kuro might take actions on his jealousy is if the relationship is a clearly unhealthy one and is hurting his Eve in some way, be it emotionally, mentally or physically. As already mentioned, though he might be angered by this, Kuro does not want to be violent. He's had enough violence and bloodshed. He might want to hurt the person his Eve was in a relationship with but I think he wouldn't act on that impulse unless there was no other choice. But I do think he would take the actions of pointing out clearly to his Eve how unhealthy the relationship was, of their romantic partner's bad actions or how unhappy they were making his Eve. He'd volley insults yes but press the point that they needed to leave the relationship and that Kuro would be there for them while they did.

#replies #servamp #servamp headcanons #servamp imagines #sleepy ash #servamp kuro #headcanons

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earlgreydream · 4 years ago

Text

unrequited.

anon requested. hey can u do draco x reader when its like unrequited love?? (this request was super long so i’m only including the first line. I loved this one though, angel baby)

You’d spent an entire lifetime of loving Draco Malfoy.

He knew it, everyone knew it. You grew up playing in the halls of Malfoy Manor with the young prince, and you’d loved him when he made flowers grow magically at his feet. You’d loved him when you’d started school together, making potions under Snape’s watchful eye. You’d loved him when you showed him the stars in astronomy, seeing them glitter in his eyes. You’d loved him, even when his father, Lucius, didn’t. You’d loved him, always.

As far as you and everyone else knew, Draco Malfoy didn’t love you back. You were friends, and he cared about you, sure. Draco kept you at a distance, pushing you away as you showered him with constant attention. You never meant to suffocate him, you just had so much love to give.

Everyone erupted into screams around you, even the Gryffindors, as Draco caught the golden snitch, winning the quidditch game for Slytherin. The players dropped down onto the field, celebrating, and you got lost in the sea of excited students. You went down to the field to congratulate him once some of the students had cleared out. All the players were still around, as well as their significant others and friends.

“Draco!” You called, and you saw him sigh before turning to you.

“Y/N,” he nodded, greeting you. His friends all watched the two of you interact, and Draco tried to be patient, but he was on edge.

“I wanted to congratulate you, you did a great job,” you smiled, and he nodded.

“Thanks,” he said shortly, trying to move past you, wanting to follow the others back to the locker rooms to clean up.

“Draco, are you okay?” Your brow furrowed, and he whipped around to look at you.

“Can you just fuck off? I know you’re obsessed with me, but I don’t love you. I never will! Leave me alone!” Draco snapped, bottled feelings exploding.

Everyone went silent, staring at Draco in shock. Despite Draco’s ability to be an ass, he’d always exercised patience and kindness with you. He stood up for you, and even when he was annoyed with you, he never let his friends mock you or make rude comments.

His response cut through you like a knife, and you stepped back. The two of you stared at each other, and everyone stared at you. Immediate regret washed over Draco, and nausea twisted his stomach.

“Understood,” you breathed before he could speak, before he could tell you that he spoke in annoyance, that the words were empty, and he didn’t mean it.

You turned, unable to look at Draco anymore. You felt like you were going to break, and you didn’t want to do it in front of an audience. You walked off the quidditch field, pain aching in your chest.

Draco stood on the field, watching you go. He swore, and turned to his teammates, uncomfortable expressions on their faces. Everyone else left, the tension dampening the excitement.

“Pansy-”

“That was fucking cruel, Draco,” Pansy shook her head at him.

“I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why-” Draco stammered, and Theo grasped his shoulder, cutting him off.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” Theo felt terrible for you, knowing you didn’t deserve it.

You were headed back to the dorms when a hand wrapped around your arm, stopping you. You turned and tried to shove the person off, assuming it was Draco coming after you.

“Get off!”

“Okay, okay. It’s only me.”

You looked up to see George Weasley, concern in his eyes. You apologized and started to cry, wrapping your arms around your friend. George hugged you tightly, and led you from the hallway as you started to sob. You were brought into the Gryffindor common room, and you leaned against his side, curled up on a red couch.

Your friends that had witnessed Draco’s harsh rejection sat down with you. You were suddenly surrounded by sweets and students with blankets and sweaters and muggle movies, anything to cheer you up.

“I hate that foul git!” Fred sighed, and George hugged you, letting you rest on his chest.

“Forget him,” Hermione said, patting your leg gently.

Draco was sick. He wanted to apologize to you, swear he didn’t mean anything he said. He was nauseated, and he cried to Theo, telling his best friend he had fucked up.

“I love her, I want to apologize... I went to apologize but she was gone,” Draco sobbed. He’d gone after you, but George had already taken you to the Gryffindor common room. He’d spent hours looking for you, but everyone who knew where you went were locked up with you where Draco didn’t have access to.

“I know, Draco. I know you love her.”

“What was I thinking?” Draco dropped his head into his hands.

You avoided Draco as best you could, even convincing Snape to let you switch partners in potions so you wouldn’t be forced to work with him. You’d spent time with George, even going to Hogsmeade with him. He was sweet to you, swearing that you deserved much better than the way Draco had treated you.

It had been weeks of you avoiding Draco, managing to miss him, even when he’d tried to come searching for you at your dorms-- you’d been in the twins’ room.

You were alone studying in the library when someone approached the table. You looked up to see Draco Malfoy, looking sleep deprived and emotionally worn.

“Please, don’t leave, we need to talk!” he begged as you closed your book and pushed out your chair.

“How’d you even get in here? It’s after hours and I have special permission to be here, no one else-”

“Theo,” he answered, and you didn’t dare to ask, not wanting to know how Theo managed to get Draco in the library.

“You hurt me, Draco,” you said finally, and he nodded.

“I know, and I can’t apologize enough. Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I should’ve never snapped at you. I didn’t mean anything I said, I was stressed and upset, and you didn’t deserve that. I love you, I have always loved you. I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” Draco was crying, his words coming out in desperate rambles.

“You love me?”

“I love you more than all of the stars. I love you more than anything, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for hurting you,” Draco apologized, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He held you, breathing out repeated apologies.

You heard heavy footsteps, and Draco’s eyes widened.

“Go, I’m not letting you get in trouble for apologizing to me,” you whispered, and he kissed you briefly, shocking you. He waved his wand and vanished, just as the librarian walked around the corner.

“Miss Y/N, why don’t you head back to your dorm, it’s past midnight?”

“Of course.”

You’d forgiven Draco, and he had expected you to return to hanging around him, he expected the two of you to become exclusive. You didn’t ignore his existence anymore, but you continued hanging around the golden children and their friends, particularly George Weasley.

He watched you giggle at George’s jokes, hanging off of his arm and flirting with him. Theo had insisted that there was no talk of the two of you actually dating, but you hung around him a lot.

It had been almost two weeks, and Draco hadn’t been able to spend any time with you, both of you overwhelmed and busy, and your friends taking up what free time you had. You had explained that you’d forgiven Draco, but they still ostracized him and shamed him when he tried to hang around.

Now, nearly all the students were out in Hogsmeade, and you were at George’s side, giggling at a joke he was telling. You squeezed his arm, and Draco was infuriated. Jealousy tasted like acid in his mouth, clouding his judgement and twisting his stomach. He loved you, and he couldn’t bear to see you touching and talking to others the way you were.

You were surprised when Draco approached your group, calling your name. You smiled, ignoring the harsh looks from the Weasleys. You raised your eyebrows as his arms snaked around your waist, hugging you against his body.

“Hi, beautiful,” he spoke, and you blushed. Your friends stared at him, and Draco didn’t let you go. You could feel the jealousy and possessiveness radiating off of him in waves, and you couldn’t deny that it was attractive.

“I’ve got to show you something, I found the book you were looking for,” Draco spoke, and both of you knew there was no book.

“Sure, of course,” you nodded.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” You nodded at George as Draco intertwined your fingers, his hold tight on your hand. They tried to protest, but Draco was already dragging you down the alley, out of sight.

“Draco-” you breathed as you were pinned against a cold stone wall.

“I can’t stand to see you hanging off of that redhead,” Draco seethed, and you looked up into stormy grey eyes.

“No? George is sweet,”

“Enough with that. You know I can make you feel a million times better than he ever could.” His words dripped with vicious jealousy, and he was kissing your neck, leaving a mark from his mouth against your delicate skin.

“Prove it,” you taunted him.

His gripped your arm, hauling you after him down the alley. Your body was pulsing with anticipation as you were being pulled into a hostel. A maid nodded at Draco, slipping him a room key, and you nearly tripped over your feet trying to keep up. Draco swore and picked you up, draping you over his shoulder.

You squeaked as he landed a hard slap to your ass to stop your squirming, and you let him carry you like that into the room.

“You’ll never want another man after me. I’ll have you screaming my name until you forget your own!” Draco’s threat had you dripping, and a whimper escaped as you rubbed your thighs together.

“Can’t even contain yourself and I haven’t even touched you yet,” Draco hummed, embarrassing you in the best way.

The air was knocked out of your lungs as you were dropped on a soft mattress, Draco towering over you. You watched him silently as he removed your shoes and stockings, dragging off your skirt with it.

“I want to be rough with you. I want to make you know that you’re mine,” Draco said, and you nodded. You’d hooked up before, once a few years ago, so he was less apprehensive about railing the life out of you.

“Please, make me yours.”

Draco’s breath came out in a sharp sigh at your beg, and he rid himself of his clothes while you pulled off your own. Your eyes hadn’t left Draco, and he stood in front of you at the end of the bed. His gazes dragged over the curves of your body, and you were tempted to beg for him to touch you.

Before you could speak, Draco hauled you back farther on the mattress and kneeled in front of you. You let your head fall back, and you moaned when you saw the mirror overhead, giving you a full view of your actions.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, and Draco smirked as he kissed your inner thigh.

“You’re soaked, my love,” Draco teased, lightly brushing his fingers against your core.

You whined, pushing your hips into his touch. You jolted with a shriek as Draco slapped your sex, his dark laughter sending vibrations through you as he kissed the area.

Your hands went to his hair, pulling roughly as he began to eat you out, the sting fading into overwhelming, passionate pleasure. As you began to squirm, he pinned your hips down, forcing you to take the pleasure he was giving you. Your chest rose and fell heavily, and you watching him eat you out, moaning as his fingers stroked you from the inside. Your sounds got louder and more high-pitched, and you were practically crying Draco’s name.

“Draco, I’m going to come, please, I’m so close!” you squealed, dragging your nails up his back, making him moan into your heat. It sent you over the edge, screaming his name as your back arched, your thighs squeezing around his head.

You struggled to draw oxygen into your lungs when he didn’t let you go, drawing out the ecstasy until it became torture. You fulfilled his promise, his name echoing off the walls desperately.

Draco forced a second orgasm from you, making your vision tunnel and fire spread through your body. The intensity of it was almost painful, and you were gasping and spasming from his touch.

You whimpered in relief as the boy pulled off of you, giving you a small break from the stimulation. Your breathing was ragged, and he smiled down at the mess he’d made of you, trailing his fingertips along the curves of your body. You choked out his name, shuddering as he circled your nipples, amused by your sensitivity.

“We’re not done yet, love, I want you fucked braindead for me,” his tone held feigned sweetness, and you nodded weakly.

“I love you.” You spoke, and some of the softness returned to his gaze.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Draco leaned down and delicately kissed your lips.

“It wouldn’t be fair not to let me get off, would it?” Draco hummed, and you shook your head.

You spasmed as he tapped his head against your aching clit before lifting your legs over his shoulders. You threw your head back as he pressed into you, snapping his hips against yours in one thrust. A strangled scream ripped through you at the force, the rough thrusts making your mind melt and your body shake. You felt like Draco was splitting you open, but you didn’t want him to stop.

Your hands searched aimlessly for something to grab on to, and Draco caught them, sliding his fingers in yours. He smiled down at you when you squeezed his hands, letting him take your body. He could feel his orgasm quickly approaching, and in a split decision he buried himself all the way inside of you, brushing your cervix, ripping another orgasm from you. Your broken cry echoed in his mind as he spilled inside of you, painting the sensitive muscle with his release.

“Y/N? Are you there, love?” Draco’s voice was much more gentle, and he carefully pulled out of you and let you rest down into the sheets. Your incoherent whimpers were like music to him, and he waved his wand to clean the two of you up.

“Draco?”

“I’m here, my love.”

He leaned down and kissed you, pulling you into his arms. You rested against his warm chest, feeling him press kisses to your head, draping his arms over you and playing with your fingers.

“I’m all yours,” you whispered, feeling him grin into your hair.

“All mine.”

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peakyblindersxx · 4 years ago

Text

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 5 of ?)

gif by my literal angel @michaelgreys who keeps blessing us like holy fuck

a/n: all i can say is that this is the hottest one yet. as always, my girl @stxdyblr-2k did an amazing job so i hope you all enjoy :) and i'm still working on requests, tysm for all of them!!

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland

prompt: john just can't help himself when he sees you with someone else.

warnings: nsfw!!! smut, fluff, angst, light praise kink, john fucking adores you and spends a good amount of time with his head between your legs (yes i know!!!!!)

John had spotted you from across the London nightclub, his table tucked into the balcony area, perfectly positioned to survey the entire club. It'd been over a month since he laid eyes on you last. Sometimes, he wondered if it was possible for you to only get more beautiful every time he saw you. He wasn't surprised, as he'd been warned of your presence by Tommy, but he was unable to stop himself from staring at you, hair neatly styled, scarlet velvet dress clinging to every curve, red lipstick emphasizing your lips, a light haze of pink pressed into your cheekbones, lash-line expertly darkened with kohl. You were dancing with one of Isaiah's friends; the young man was tall and muscular -- a blinder foot soldier, John concluded, draining his glass of whiskey, flagging the waiter down for another.

The young lad was smiling down at you. John took a swig from his drink bitterly, the man obviously head over heels, his eyes bright, excitedly glancing from your lips to your figure. John could feel himself cringe; the younger man had all the subtlety and strategy of a malnourished dog. Then again, who could blame the lad? You were an absolute vision, twirling and giggling, off your face on something Michael had brought. John couldn't help but watch, wishing it was him who had caught your attention tonight, wanting to feel your breath fan across his neck, pulling away while you giggled at his blushing arousal; him whisking you to dark corners to steal a moment of quiet.

He'd tried to get over you but he couldn't. He'd been travelling a lot lately, business in Liverpool, Edinburgh and Belfast; yet in every woman who smiled at him, he found himself searching for you in their eyes, their smiles, their laugh. They were all gorgeous, but his heart simply wasn't in it.

Tonight had started off alright, normal Peaky activity. They'd seized the club only a few hours ago, gaining vital territory in London, bagging their place in the opiate trade and a successful business prospect in one fell swoop. By all accounts, John should’ve been happy, but he'd been too lost in his own mind lately to properly take in the consequences of those sleepless nights with the accounting books, all the hours practicing shooting and boxing, all the endless driving, the meetings, the lingering stench of death which clung to his family. Try as he might, he couldn't enjoy himself. His night got worse the second he spotted you; a yearning for you suddenly flooding his veins. It was easy to get on with life when you were hundreds of miles from him, but when you were a flight of stairs away? He knew the club had countless dark passages to hide away with you, multiple cloak rooms with thick brick walls to take you against: he had to stop his mind running wild. He couldn't. That had to be the last time. You were in his past, you had to stay there. But as he watched you dance with the blinder, he could feel the familiar burn of jealousy swell deep within him. The lad was far too close to you for his comfort, practically grazing his hips to yours. John roughly rubbed his jaw at the sight, silently seething to himself in the shadows.

Thomas studied his brother's body language, taking a slow drag of his cigarette, not understanding the fuss around you. Sure, you were pretty enough; you were bright, apparently funny, but you had never caught his attention really. He observed how John's eyes followed your every move, every sway of your hips closely watched as he held his breath, losing himself to you. He was glad he'd prompted Michael to invite you; this was the most attentive he'd seen John in a month. It was no coincidence that he'd dragged you away from Birmingham, from the watching eyes of the city locals, the wagging tongues in the assembly lines, far from Ada. Michael had admitted to Thomas that it was easy to persuade you, promising you a lift in his new car and a night out as Ada had plans with a gentleman. A night of dancing with your favourite lads and an all expenses paid trip to London? You couldn't resist.

John's jaw had tensed and squared, the man murmuring something against your neck causing you to giggle and grasp his collar. Thomas could tell his brother was practically bristling with jealousy. If looks could kill, the young man clinging to your hips would be long dead from the glare unleashed on him by the tallest Shelby brother.

"You gonna sit there useless or are you gonna fucking do something about it, eh?" Tommy inquired, nudging him with his shoulder.

"I can't."

"No one will know." Thomas pointed out, raising a brow, "The Blinders will say fuck all if they see owt. They keep quiet when it's about us Shelby brothers, yeah?"

John glanced at him, eyes slightly widened, confusion furrowing his brows. "You've changed your fuckin' tune."

"Sometimes, it's good to have secrets. What Ada doesn't know about the events of tonight won't hurt her."

"We don't do secrets. We're meant to trust each other." John objected. "We're a family."

"Nothing will change, John. I'll fix it for you, yeah? You've had a rough few weeks, you should reward yourself."

"She's not a fuckin’ prize, Tom."

"Keep talking that shit and people will get the wrong idea, think you love the woman or sommet." Thomas shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, while John's cheeks flared, his eyes flinching to the floor. He smirks to himself. "You going to go get your lass, then?"

John replied wordlessly, standing and downing the rest of his drink, pulling on his suit jacket, straightening his collar. "I'll catch you later, Tom."

********

The lad was nice, his name had long disappeared into the fog of liquor and Tokyo. He was someone's cousin, but he was polite; charming, almost. Most importantly, he wasn't related to your best friend. Not quite a Casanova type like John, but you two were a good match, everyone thought so. You'd seen him a few times now over the past week. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a good dancer, and sweet after a few pints.

The band started playing a slower song, Isaiah dancing chest to chest with a beautiful girl across from you. You felt your partner place his fingers on the small of your back, his fingers inching lower, pulling you in closer before the two of you were interrupted by a dark figure looming over you.

"Can I cut in, mate?" A strong Birmingham accent sliced through the air, voice low and polite enough, but with a tone that was laced with venom. "Or are you gonna be a dick about it?"

The lad glanced nervously between you two, moving his hands away from you, embarrassed to be caught by his boss in this state, John staring him down. You slowly pulled away from him, turning to face John.

"Or you could ask me to dance yourself, John?"

John silently glared back at you, his mouth tensed into a thin line. He looked momentarily embarrassed, his attention switching back to your dance partner, the rest of lads silently watching, breaths baited, ready to jump in on the action if the moment required it.

"I'm heading off mate, reckon she's a cocktease." Your partner comments, attempting to diffuse the tension, stepping away, not wanting a fight or to piss off his boss. His path was quickly blocked by another blinder. You shot him an apologetic look and took the large hand John was offering you.

"Or, she's just not interested in you," John quipped, smirking, locking his fingers through yours. "You gonna go get your coat while I finish up with your best mate?"

"Thought we were dancing?"

"You can dance as much as you like in the suite, yeah? Proper gramophone. You coming?"

"You just want me on my own."

"Just tired of the distractions." He told you pointedly, skimming his glare over the group of men, standing with baited breath, preparing for it to kick off.

You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hands, slowly heading to the cloakroom, chatting with the attendant as you watched John confront the lad, keeping your distance. His arms were clutching the lad's lapels, snarling in his face before pushing him back. Michael watched from a few steps away, smoking absentmindedly, spine pressed to a pillar, leaving his cousin to sort out whatever offense he believed the man had caused.

You bundled yourself up in your thin coat, a gift from one of the girls you hung around with as she had recently married a blinder and was being spoiled rotten. The coat's flimsy material was going to be useless against the London night. At least you could count on John to keep you warm on the walk back to the hotel. You headed towards the side door, John's hand quickly finding your lower back protectively as he fell into step beside you. He opened the heavy wooden doors for you, the cold air an instant relief from the heat of the nightclub. You turned back as the door closed, catching a glimpse of the boys closing in on the lad, their eyes gleaming with a violent hunger for action.

"He'll be alright. Daft prick just getting put in his place." John said flatly. He seemed bored but watched you anxiously, begging you with his eyes to drop the subject.

"Is the hotel close by?" You asked casually, as the frigid air swirled around your calves, instantly causing you to shiver.

"I'll get us a cab, love, can't have you in those heels trekking halfway across London town." He stepped fearlessly into the road, unbothered about any potential danger or just forgetful from the whiskey. Quickly, a dark cab pulled up to the cobblestone pavement and John helped you in, taking off his coat and wrapping it around your shoulders before climbing in after you.

As the engine started and the car made its way through London's dimly lit streets to Camden, John's hand found its way to your thigh. You glanced at him, his eyes looking away but his thumb angled against his teeth. He was nervous, having not touched you in a month. You crossed your legs, angling them towards him, his hand shifting higher up your thighs, taking a deep sigh of relief. Your hands found his chin in the gloom of the back of the car, only the occasional bright lights from a nightlife hub or the demure lights of a residential illuminating his face, the angles changing as the cab drove on. It was too much. You'd been needing this for the past month, needing him. Your hands laced around the back of his head and you pressed your lips to his for a brief moment, allowing John to pull you deeper into the kiss. It awoke something familiar inside you, something comforting. Kissing John erased all your homesickness. Christ, you had to stop thinking like this.

"You've not been about for a bit, sweetheart. I know we said never again, but I was hoping you'd come by," John muttered, forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling with yours as he spoke.

"I almost did. The amount of times I nearly visited your office.. I just couldn't do that to you or Ada. Besides, last I heard, you were on tour." You admitted, keeping your voice down to save the cab driver the embarrassment. John caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, tracing the corner of your mouth, prompting a grin from you.

"Last place on earth I'd expected to see you next, it's been hectic my end," He sighed. His eyes were outlined with deep purple smudges of exhaustion, yet he was still devastatingly beautiful even after all the sleepless nights. "It's been too long."

"Not my fault you've been hiding yourself away. You should've called."

"Blame Tommy for that. His solution seems to be sending me on business trips. Trying to make me too tired to handle you." A nervous lick of his lips revealed John’s response to the suggestion that he call you. He wanted to say he would ring next time, but there couldn't be a next time.

"You can barely handle me on a good day, Mr. Shelby."

"Can't blame me. You seen yourself? On the brink as soon as I see you, lass." He teased, earning a gentle shove to the shoulder as you quickly pressed a kiss underneath his chin. You wanted to bring up Thomas' threat, but you bit your tongue, nudging his shin with the toe of your heel in the back of the cab. He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrists lightly. "Behave yourself in front of the nice cabbie, sweetheart."

You soften at his touch, unable to resist reaching to interlock your fingers, squeezing his hands in yours affectionately. The spirits your table had been bringing you all night definitely boosted your confidence, any hesitancy due to potential rejection drowned out. John pressed his lips to your knuckles in response. He seemed different tonight, far more protective and serious than usual. He was so quiet it was strange, usually yapping your ear off, desperate for you to react, treating him to a giggle, a middle finger or a cutting response. You'd also never witnessed him spark off due to someone's interaction with you. Finn had mentioned a week or so back that John had a shouting match with Thomas and in the moment, your name got thrown up in the conversation, resulting in John taking a swing at his big brother out of frustration. It was confusing. He was willing to start fights over you, punch his brother, yet when you two were alone he was uncomfortably quiet, studying you, lost in his thoughts. His silence only made your body long for him, his fingers tracing patterns in your inner thigh. You let out a small whimper into the crook of his neck, as he instinctively pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

The car pulled up outside the hotel, your pulse racing, the anticipation already threatening to make you give in completely to his wishes tonight. You waited as he turned up his collar against the rain, clambering out of the car to open your door, creatively arranging the coat to hover just above both your heads protecting you from the miserable weather. Although John had referred to the building as a hotel, you could instantly tell the manor was some aristocrat's third or fourth home, obviously being rented out or gifted to business partners for trips. It was an imposing grey stone building, exquisitely carved, although not a country estate, the house was just as large. Was John used to this? It hit you all of a sudden that you'd never set foot inside John's home. You'd heard from Ada that it was overrun with hoards of screaming children. She often joked with the children at the Shelby Institute that if they hung around long enough at John's, he'd assume they were one of his offspring. You'd only ever fucked him in a guest bed. The shame made your stomach churn.

You needed to remind yourself of this when your late night thoughts ran rampant. John could say what he liked, but he'd never actually allow you to get overly personal with him. Whatever confusing mess was winding around your skull regarding him was useless; it was best not to think about it. You went to him every time, yet he would've picked another lass tonight, it was just that you were there. He probably had a string of gorgeous women, older, more accomplished, more experienced, more elegant. He could tell you he missed you, but you could never take for granted that he told you this for any other reason than as a prelude to get you in bed with him. You were his gorgeous mess, but only for the night. It was best to remind yourself to care less than he did. It was the easiest solution in the long term; this way, the downfall would be less brutal.

"You alright, love?" He asked suddenly, breaking your train of thought.

"Sorry, I was thinking about work."

He lived around his brothers for long enough, he could smell bullshit. He decided to let it go. It was best to not push it tonight. Just keep it light hearted, easy, like it was always meant to be.

"If your boss keeps being a prick, you tell Ada. She'll sort him out."

"Don't I know it? He can barely open the door before she starts on about workplace ethics." You joked, earning a small smile instead of his usual bright chuckle. "John, what are we doing here?"

"Well I'm about to take you upstairs and sort you out, yeah? You gonna let me look after you?" He asked, stopping you in your tracks by turning you into him, grabbing your wrist.

"You know that isn't what I meant."

"I know. But can we leave it tonight? Can we just have fun?" He questioned, lips ghosting over yours, fixing you with an intense stare.

"It's fun anymore." Your voice cracked, the liquor in your system making it impossible to control your tone or your facial expressions. "It's fucking with my head, John."

"It's just.. fucking difficult. It's fucking difficult because of who we are." He replied firmly but dropped his makeshift coat shelter around your shoulders, freeing his hands to grab your face pulling it to his, the alcohol making him far needier than he usually appeared. "You, my beautiful Y/N, are a fucking losing game. It's not as easy for me, I can't just dance with a woman and get a leg over-"

"I never said you couldn't."

"I know, I.." He gestured vaguely, lifting one of his hands off your cheeks, and you can feel your head nodding in understanding. "You know, I thought I was going to manage it this time. That I wouldn't be a total fuck up, but then you and that lad-"

"Catch you getting jealous over me."

"Fuck off." He let go of you for a split second but you reeled him back in, resting your palms on the chest of his shirt, the soaked material sticking to his skin. You'd struck a nerve. You decided to push him further.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, Mr. Shelby, disappearing across the country for weeks then coming back and telling me you want me all to yourself?" You played with his collar, tugging his face to yours before pulling back at the last possible second, causing him to let out a frustrated groan, hands itching to feel you underneath them.

"Don't fucking wind me up," He snapped, the intensity between you rekindled momentarily.

"It's worked wonders in the past," You replied, barely able to finish your sentence before his mouth was on yours, his fingers tangling into your hair, kissing you properly. Although you'd kissed so many times prior, this one felt so genuine, as though unleashed from its restraints deep within John. You'd never kissed anyone in the rain before in the middle of the night, and it felt magical. You were shivering but hot all over, burning for John to do something, anything. You could feel his cock through his dress pants, hard against you, prompting you to moan into his mouth.

"Fuck’s sake, Y/N," John grunted into your ear, his hands grabbing at your arse. "You're fuckin’ killing me here. I need you, yeah?"

"Tell me how badly." You responded coyly, linking your arms around his neck, ignoring the late night drizzle.

"I'd rather show you. M’gonna take care of you tonight, make up for the month I've been gone."

"Who's saying I've not been taking care of myself?'

He bit his lip in frustration, trying to stop his mind running wild with the image of you in bed, fingers between your thighs, breasts moving as you arched your back, hips lifting off the mattress, moaning as you called his name -- his jaw clenched. "I know what you're doing. You coming up before you catch a chill?"

You shifted your weight away from him, as if considering your options. He knew your answer; you both knew in a few minutes you'd be upstairs practically tearing his shirt off, needing his skin against yours, begging for him. John pulled away from you, dragging you up the winding path to the front door of the manor, opening the door for you, arm wrapping around your waist. His lips met yours, then your collarbones and neck, prompting a breathy giggle and whine as you wound yourself back around him, craving the contact. The manor was plunged in darkness, staff somewhere in the gloom. Your arrival had definitely been noted, but as with everyone who worked for the Shelbys, they just left you to it. It was easier to not get involved, to keep their heads down and not mention the midnight trysts the brothers got up to.

John knew his path, he'd stayed here before. Even in the dark you could tell the house was decorated to spare no expense, the gaudy paintings and sculptures casting strange shadows. He led you up the grand flight of stairs, then another.

"Worse than Thomas' estate, this place." You murmured quietly, unsure of other guests within earshot.

"I could never live like this. I'd never see my brood again. Getting them ready for bed would be one hell of a nightmare." He whispered back, halting your stride by pulling your hips to his, unable to wait any longer.

"John, what if we get caught?" You asked, pressing your hand against his chest with your palm flat.

"Never bothered you before. Thought you liked the fact that anyone could just walk in and see what a pretty little mess you’ve made for me."

You couldn’t help yourself from pressing an affectionate kiss to his mouth, letting him lay you down and pin you to the stairs, the luxuriously thick carpets scraping into your flesh. He cursed under his breath at the sight of you underneath him, pushing your dress up your thighs, lifting your legs to wrap around his neck, pressing a kiss to your flimsy underwear, glancing up to drink you in. The most beautiful woman in his city, begging for him, figure swamped by his coat, rain soaked and shivering, his mouth between her thighs. He ran his tongue slowly across your clothed core, your pleading moans music to his ears, loving how your thighs tightened around his neck. His tongue traced circles over your clit and labia, the friction generated by the lace of your panties pushing you further, your hands knotting into his hair, spine arching against his mouth.

"No one been looking after you while I was gone. eh?" He asked, pressing kisses to your inner thigh, tugging your panties to the side. "What about your dancing pal?"

"Fuck’s sake, I barely know him, John." You snapped back, teetering on the edge between lust and frustration from his relentless teasing.

"Keep it that way. You don't need ‘im, lass, not while I'm about." He replies before lapping at your slit, interpreting your moans as approval as your head slumped back and you released a low groan. "Y/N, watch me, yeah?"

You pull yourself weakly upwards, propping yourself up in your elbows to be able to look down the staircase at John between your legs in the dark. The view was thrilling, moonlight shining in through the rain on the window, illuminating his face, hair messy and tongue flickering across your clit while he stared up at you, his eyes darkened with lust. You couldn't help but pant, knowing you'd be returning to this moment alone at night, when it was your fingers instead of John's tongue pushing you towards the edge.

"So fuckin' wet and ready for me, aren’t you?" He crooned, sliding his fingers into you, sucking at your clit between flicks of his tongue.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, whimpers leaving your mouth instead, your hips lifting beneath his palms, chest heaving.

"Go on, use your words, clever lass."

"John, fuck.. don't stop," You manage to string together, thoughts too muddled by alcohol and arousal to play hard to get any longer.

"I won't ‘til you cum in my mouth. Need to taste you again, beautiful."

Your head jerked back suddenly as John curled his fingers inside you, pushing up against the spot that made you lose your mind, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, all he could hear except from his blood rushing in his head. Your desperate cries for relief caused his cock to strain against his dress pants, fighting the urge to sort himself out, needing to finish you off. John needed to prove that he could fuck you better than anyone else. He knew he was pushing you to the edge, but he wasn't going to deny you your orgasm. He wanted to make a point with this. His fingers worked faster, his mouth hungry for you, lips moving against your core at a harsh pace.

You groaned loudly, hips bucking involuntarily just to be forced back against the carpet of the staircase. Your breaths grew heavier, warning him how close you were to your peak. John refused to let up, pushing you closer every second, lips latched to your core firmly, lapping up the wetness he'd produced.

"I want to watch you finish." He commanded, you completely at his will now that you'd lost control, lifting your head upwards with the little strength you had left to be able to stare down at his dilated blue eyes. "Good girl. You gonna show me how good I make you feel? You gonna cum for me, doll?"

You couldn't respond, unable to keep your eyes from rolling backwards as you felt yourself suddenly release, John’s name escaping from between your lips, legs shuddering around his neck. He let you ride it out on his tongue, tasting you desperately, watching your expression slowly relax.

Finally, he pulled away from your cunt, unwrapping your legs from his neck. He grabbed your wrist, not letting you retrieve your panties, stuffing them into his trouser pocket. He returned his attention to tracing your slit with the index finger and thumb of his other hand, as he pressed a long kiss to your lips.

"I love how you taste," He murmured against your lips, causing you to flush slightly. John noticed, pressing kisses to your jawbone. "Don't get shy on me now. I've barely started with you. Not even got you to the suite and you've already cum."

He looked so proud of himself, it suddenly clicked for you. He was trying to prove himself to you, for some unknown reason. You know he was protective and quite obviously jealous tonight, but you couldn't believe that John Shelby felt the need to prove that he knew what he was doing, as though you weren't aware. You weren't trekking to his office for mediocre sex. Tonight he let you finish first, no teasing, no denial, no fucking about. Just putting his ability fully on show, so when your mind went drifting it'd go back to him, not some young lad who barely knew what he was doing. His cocky attitude and smug acceptance of his sexual prowess would've been off-putting if it was anyone else, but John, but with his bright smile and constant humour, pulled it off. It was enticing, making your core pool with wetness when he crossed your mind.

"A month is far too long, Mr. Shelby."

"I know, you're practically drooling over me." He teased. He seems a lot more himself than before. He’d been too caught up in his head, too focused on getting you off to enjoy the flirting and teasing. John loved how light-hearted he could be with you. Despite the mess you were both in, it was making you laugh or roll your eyes that soothed his mind. Honestly, if it was just sex he'd have cut you off instantly; he wouldn't have even gone there out of loyalty to Ada. Admittedly, it was your company and presence that had him absolutely on his knees for you, the way he felt understood, less alone in his brother's bullshit, less trapped by his criminal career because you understood. You always had a cutting line, a bright smile just for him, an eye roll at his brothers' daft plans, a choice curse word for Thomas. He didn't even want to consider what would happen after the night ended. He stood, pressing another kiss to your lips as he helped you to your feet, fixing his coat which hung off your shoulders.

"You ready for rounds two through to six?"

"John, you know you won't get through three with me."

"You’re right, you're just too pretty when you’re riding my cock." He teased, the vulgar material of his jibe earning him a joking shove before you curl into his side, letting him escort you up the stairs to the nearest bedroom. He quickly shut the door behind you, scooping you up in his arms, causing you to let out a laugh as he practically tossed you onto the king sized bed, eyes shining with adoration as he looked down at you grinning back up at him.

“You’re something else, John Shelby.”

#john shelby smut #john shelby fluff #john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic

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lonelyl00n · 4 years ago

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Je T'aime | Yandere! Joy

Summary: When your childhood bully won't let go of you.

Warning: manipulation, abuse of power, controlling relationship, jealousy, mention of killing

wc: 1.5K

This is was inspired by my favorite song Je T'aime by Hey. When I found out that Joy did a cover of that song, I got the creativity to create this. I wanted to get all of this out of my head, so it may feel a bit rushed in some areas.

You were in the library when you felt someone put their hands over your eyes. “Guess Who?”

“Hmmm.” You joked as you tapped your finger on your chin. “Is it…Namjoon?”

Your eyes were uncovered the second you said that. You laughed at Joy’s angry expression. “I told you not to mention him.”

“Sorry, sorry. What brings you here.”

“What do you mean what brings me here? It’s our night out.” Joy gasps.

“I’m sorry Joy, I don’t think I can do it tonight. Namjoon was supposed to be tutoring me, but I’ve been waiting for like thirty minutes.”

“I’m one of the smartest kids in the school. I’m in the Top 10 you know. Why didn’t you ask me?” Joy pouted.

You laughed at her outburst. “First of all, your parents would sue the school if you weren’t in Top 10, so that doesn’t really mean much.”

Joy's father was the CEO of a famous luxury brand, while her mom is a retired actress who was popular in the late 80's and 90's. Her parents had more money than you and your family could ever dream of. Growing up bouncing around from different relative’s basements made a lot of the kids at school growing up, make fun of you.

Especially Joy.

In 4th grade, is when she would begin to make your life a living hell. She would steal your lunch money and give you foods that she knew you were allergic to. She would constantly call you fat and make rude comments about you to her friends.

It got worse in 10th grade, when she made an announcement over the PA system that whoever talked, touched, or even looked at you would get beat up. She bought you and her matching rings at cost more than $1000, and would make you wear it all the time. She bought you clothes, gave you money, and even managed to convince her parents to buy your family an apartment with three bedrooms and a balcony.

She basically owned you. You weren’t allowed to go out on the weekends because of her security guards guarding your apartment door. When you did try to leave the apartment, which you never succeeded, you would be taken by the guards to the Park Mansion and have to sit on Joy’s lap as you two watched a movie, as punishment.

You hated the power she had, you always did, she even forced you to go to the same college that she was going to, by threatening to hurt your Aunt Irene.

You reluctantly agreed to her ‘idea’, not wanting to hurt your family members that helped your family so much.

So now you followed Joy around the campus like a little puppy, while everyone else thought that you guys were just close friends who liked being near each other.

“And second of all.” you continued. “We are supposed to be working on a project together.”

Joy furrowed her eyebrows while thinking. A project? With a boy?! She thought she had already told all of your professors to not give you any partners at all. Especially a boy.

“I know what your thinking.” Y/N claimed, seeing the looked on Joy’s face. “But we went to London for a whole month, and this was a month-long project. I can’t do it alone.”

“Fine, then I’ll help you.” Joy suggested.

“But Namjoon has to get this grade too.”

“Why do you worry about other people so much, come on let’s just start this.”

You and Joy spent all night, researching, printing, and decorating your poster board. By the time you guys were finished it was 2 a.m.

“Well, that was quicker than I expected. I guess I’ll have to make a new reservation for tomorrow.” Joy sighed. “Let’s go home.” She said as she intertwined your hands and walke out the library.

As part of the deal, Joy had you move into a luxury 2-bedroom apartment that was about an hour away from campus. Joy demanded insisted that you shouldn’t use public transportation anymore because now, with the help of her money, you were worth a lot. Throughout your high school experience, Joy never let you get a driver’s license, so she has the pleasure of driving you to and from campus, always knowing your whereabouts.

You looked out the car window without having anything to do. As punishment for talking to a boy, Joy had taken your phone claiming that the only person you needed to talk to was always right beside you. “What do you want to eat.” She asked you.

��McDonald’s.” You say robotically. McDonald’s was the only fast food place that Joy allowed you to eat. It was the place she found your family at in 10th grade.

It was on a rainy day that your Aunt Irene had kicked you, your parents, and your little brother out of her basement for being a burden, which you didn’t understand because just a week ago your Aunt had said you all staying there was the best thing to happen for her since her illness was starting to worsen.

So, with no where to go and barely any money, your parents took you all to McDonald’s to split one box of 20 piece chicken nuggets, and 4 small drinks for each member of the family.

As you were told by Joy, her family's trailer had broken down on the way back home from the airport, so Joy offered to walk to the nearest building while her parents berated the driver. The nearest place just so happened to be the McDonald’s you and your family were at.

You instantly recognized Joy when she walked through the door, just like how Joy instantly recognized you. She sat a table across from the booth your family was at, and pulled out her phone. Gosh, were you so amazed. You had never had a phone before. Your parents only had one that they shared, and you didn’t have friends (because of Joy’s rules) to let you use theirs. Joy smiled at you awe-filled eyes and continued talking on the phone.

You didn’t even realize that you were staring at her until your mom slapped your wrist and told you to stop. When the phone call ended, Joy stood up and walked towards your table. You looked at the ground, afraid that she too would scold you. “Hello L/N’s. I’m Park Sooyoung.” She started. You heard a gasp in front of you and looked at your parents, who were looking at the entrance doors. A tall man wearing a suit, and a woman carrying a Chanel bag. Walked through the door.

Joy looked back and laughed. “Oh, those are my parents.” They came up to your booth, both shoke hands your parents and stood behind Joy. ”We wanted to give your family a place to stay, would you let us.” You mother, being the biggest fan of Joy’s mother growing up instantly nodded, while your father thought about it for a few seconds before evening his Wife’s beautiful smile. A smile he hadn’t seen since their wedding day. He agreed as well.

That night was significant to you because not only did your family get a place to reside, but it was also the first time that Joy was nice to you. Since that day she started treated you better, still not letting you talk to anyone else, but she was nice.

Although Joy would never tell you this, it was that night that she fell in love with you, completely.

After eating. You and Joy got into the bed that you two shared. Yes there were two bedrooms in your apartment, but you couldn’t sleep in a room by yourself.

You had slept in a room with somebody your whole life, it felt uncomfortable. So on the first week of living here, you asked Joy if you could sleep with her, even okay with sleeping on the ground. Joy let you into her bed, and sang you to sleep.

That became your routine every night after that. However tonight was different, you feel asleep the minute you got into bed. Joy snuck out of the bed and turned you alarm off. You didn’t need to go to school tomorrow, you wouldn’t have time anyways. Her makeup crew that were going to come today were rescheduled to come tomorrow. The day she had been waiting for since that night was going to happen.

All of you and her family members were going to be at that restaurant and would watch as she would get down on one knee, just like in the romance movies, and propose to you. Just thinking about tomorrow made her heart flutter. Yes, she was furious about the change of plans today, but she would never take it out on you. Instead, she took it out on that Namjoon guy behind the library. Ugh! Just thinking about him getting close to you was sickening. She had her men take care of his body for her.

She kissed your cheek and whispers in your ear, “I love you.”

Everything was set in her plan. She loved you, and you…would have no choice but to love her. You were hers after all. Hers to love.

#yandere kpop #red velvet joy #red velvet #yandere #kpop fanfic #kpop #yandere bully #yandere sugar daddy #fanfic #kim namjoon #yandere red velvet #yandere joy

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danielxricciardo · 3 years ago

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for the song prompt list #38 with max please 🥺

Summary: One sided love with Max Verstappen

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word count: 2.7k

38. “You wouldn’t know love if it crushed your fucking chest.”

One-sided love is like waiting for something that is never going to happen. It is like looking into those eyes that will never look back into yours. It is like having someone in your heart but not in your arms. It is suffocating. It starts eating you from inside.

It starts from the moment you meet them. The eye contact that chills your spine, the butterflies somersaulting in your stomach, just the mere thought of them sends goosebumps all over your skin. Your eyes wander and you can't concentrate whenever they're around; despite feeling a little embarrassed for approaching them, you do so anyway and exchange numbers in the hope that at least a friendship will develop. I mean, they're cool, you're cool, you should hang out or something. Or whatever.

It becomes harder to remain nonchalant. Your moderate interest in this person turns into the non-stop checking of your phone to see if they've contacted you... absolute elation when they do, and utter, utter despair when they don't. But you keep telling yourself that it's cool, you don't even know them that well, and they probably don't even want to know you (otherwise they would be making an effort by now, right?).

They text you something vague and impersonal every once in a while, and this is enough to send your heart soaring into the sky. You respond straight away, and they don't. And as this continues, your self-esteem begins to drop, and you question everything.

Why aren't they contacting me? I expect they're just busy. Or is it me? Are three texts in a row too much? I don't wanna seem stalkerish... but I don't want to look like I don't care about them. Am I too fat? Would they prefer me if I lost weight, or had a car, or my own place? Probably. Why am I thinking about them? They'd never think about me like this.

It hurts, from the pit of your stomach to the backs of your eyes. You can't concentrate on anything. You forego activities with friends and family, to keep yourself available for this person just in case they want to meet up with you. You feel sick every day, your appetite drops, your enthusiasm for everything decreases, and you are left with the most bitter, raging emptiness you've ever felt in your whole life. And it's all your fault.

Despite the pain it causes you, you carry on quietly pursuing this person. You silently scream to yourself 'THEY'RE OUT OF MY LEAGUE! THEY WILL NEVER EVER WANT TO BE WITH ME! DON'T THINK ABOUT THEM!' but it's so overwhelming to hear yourself saying it that you try and ignore the voice of reason inside your head. Because right now, your heart is taking control, and there's nothing you can do about it.

You wish they were a part of you, that they could give you a chance, to let you be the best partner that you could possibly be. You wish you could hold them, and talk to them, and kiss them, and sleep beside them, and protect them... but you can't.

The reason you put yourself through all this pain, is a simple fact that you love this person so, so much. And even though the rational side of you is telling you to give up, a small, pathetic part of you says 'They might care about you one day...'

It hurts. Hurts real bad.

True Love doesn’t hurt. Expectations, possessiveness, insecurity, jealousy, and emotions do.

Memories don't hurt. Love doesn't hurt. It is the attachment that hurts. It is the expectation that hurts. It is the imagined future that is now broken that hurts.

Unrequited love hurts the most. You will love someone no matter what they have done to you and that someone may not love you back no matter what you do. That hurts. Those expectations hurt.

To love is always selfless and that feeling is always unconditional. Love is always unconditional. It may sting seeing him with someone else, but you will be happy for him for their happiness is more important to you when you truly love them.

When we lose someone that we love so truly and they walk out of your life for some reason, it hurts. This doesn't mean memories will haunt us. It is the collapsed future that hurts us. Living in the past with the ones we love brings us tears, not because that is lost, but because there was something that could have been forever, but it isn't now. That hurts. That stings and we tend to associate it with good memories. Sometimes we love people more than the memories they gave us. We fall for the person, not just for the memories. We love, we live life to create beautiful memories for us and the loved ones around us.

Expectations hurt in proportion to the emotional investment. Whenever we are too much attached to someone or something, we grow attachment and that attachment leads to expectations. These expectations when fulfilled are an awesome experience. But when we are too much emotionally invested and when those dreams aren't coming true, it stings and hurts and kills from within.

Getting over it is by forgiving and moving on with life accepting that you will never get over that true love. Forgiveness is your trait. It solely depends on you and not on the other person. You want to forgive them because you want peace of mind and don't want to hold grudges against anyone in your life.

Feelings and emotions are real. If you truly love a person, you will love them forever, even though they can't see you that way. That's why love is always unconditional. You love that person because you want to, not because you have that hope that someday he will love you back. If you just hope for being loved back, that's not love, to begin with, it is just some business deal. You love him because your feelings for him are real, deep, and true.

You met Max a long time ago. You were both in Formula 3 in 2014 and got along really well. You started to see each other outside of racing and after a while, you could call yourself friends. But you had feelings for him. Even before you get to know each other properly. You tried so hard to show him that you were interested in him, but nothing. Either he was oblivious or he was not interested in you. Either way, you were hurt, and that was seen in the way you competed. You lost your ambition, there were some days when you cried before the race because you didn't feel able to compete, and Max had no idea you were feeling that way because you wouldn't let him see you when you were at your lowest point.

You gave up racing and Max ended up competing in Formula 1. You weren't jealous of him, you knew you never had a chance to get there, but he deserved it, and all the hard work he put in helped him. You were with him, you encouraged him every time, on the phone, if you could not travel, or in person when he asked you to be with him.

'I need my best friend, Y/N, please. Can you come to the race on the weekend?'

And no matter how much it hurt you to hear that he considered you just his best friend, you wouldn't let your tears fall on your cheeks and tell him you'd be there for the weekend. Every time. It doesn't matter that you had something else planned, you never refused him.

"Oh my God, thank you so much for coming!" you heard Max. You look up and see your best friend coming towards you, ready to hug you. You instantly smiled. No matter how you would feel when you see him you can't help but smile.

"Of course I came. I wouldn't be anywhere else," you say and you are taken by surprise by the sincerity with which you uttered those words.

He takes you to meet some people and you were happy because he seemed well, he seemed delighted with his place there.

"Do you miss it?" you heard Daniel asking you, but you had no idea what he was talking about. "The racing," he continued as if he had read your thoughts and knew you had no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh," you shrug nonchalantly. "I mean, yeah, sometimes, but it's fine."

"Is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Clearly your mind is somewhere else. I thought it was because you were here and that brought back some racing memories, but it's different, isn't it?"

"Okay, Daniel, I appreciate the free therapy session, but I'm fine, seriously. I'm just happy to be here to encourage Max."

"Talking about me? Man, I'm feeling like a superstar," your best friend says coming between you. "I don't know about you guys but I want to get drunk."

"Are you even allowed to get drunk? It's Wednesday, don't you have press conferences tomorrow?"

"I'm in!" Daniel says and you roll your eyes. Of course he is.

Getting drunk with two boys you swear have ADHD was not a good idea.

Technically speaking, you weren't drunk, you drank a bottle of beer all night so you could take care of the two boys. Drunk Daniel was ok. He was not very agitated, he was even calmer than usual. He was sitting on the couch, laughing louder than usual, but it wasn't a cause of concern for you. Max on the other hand was a different story. Being drunk, he seemed very attracted to the balcony and that stressed you a lot. You tried to explain to him that it is dangerous on the balcony and that it is much more fun inside. You hardly convinced him.

"You're not funny at all, Y/N!"

"I'd rather know you're alive, Max."

Daniel went to bed at about 11:30 PM, but Max showed no signs of being tired. No matter how much you told him about tomorrow's busy schedule, he didn't seem to care.

You were lying on the couch, staring at the TV, and Max was on the floor, quietly for once. You wanted to ask him if he was feeling well, but he spoke before you could say something.

"Do you believe in love?"

Those five words knocked the air out of your lungs. Love? What made him ask you about love?

"Yes, I do," you answer and hope that he'll be satisfied with what you said.

"What is love anyway?"

"That depends, Max. Love is different for everybody."

"Well," he said and turns to look at you. "What is love for you?"

You sighed. What was love for you? Max. But you can't say that.

"Love is a broad term, Max. It can have different meanings for different people and can vary according to the context. At times love is synonymous with respect. At others, it is all about caring and sharing. At still others, it is a trail of concern, affection, and connection."

You didn't know you started to cry until Max kindly wiped off the tears on your face. Who would have thought that talking about love in front of the person you loved the most in this world would have made you cry? You whisper a 'thank you' to Max and get up to take a napkin from the kitchen.

"We're best friends, right?" you hear him coming towards you and he sits down on the kitchen chair.

"Sure," you answer, wiping away your tears.

"What you described. About love... I think I feel that for someone."

You heard something break and you were sure it was your heart. What you felt in that moment was what? Jealousy? This is human behavior. We, people, have the tendency to imagine ourselves with the person on whom we develop our crush. And this is totally normal, everyone does that.

Initially, it's all roses and unicorns. We start to imagine how our life would be with the other person, how we would treat them, what gifts we would give them, how we will take their pain away and how we will happily live after.

But life doesn’t work how we want it to work, does it? Then comes the second phase where we start to realize the differences between you and your crush, but still we hold on to it because in our minds that person is just too perfect to be wrong.

And then comes the thirds phase where we see our crush getting into a relationship with someone else. We even think that our crush doesn’t deserve that person, my crush deserves me! I’m better than that person. But that’s how it works, things fall apart. They break. That’s life. And at that moment, it broke your heart and you knew you want to know nothing about that other person. But you were hurt. He was drunk, yes, but you still had a crush on him, even if your feelings for him couldn't be reciprocal.

"That's... That's great, Max," you bit your lip to stop your tears from falling. "Let's go to bed."

"I think I always loved this girl but I never told her. Maybe I should," he giggles and you feel your blood boiling in your veins.

“You wouldn’t know love if it crushed your fucking chest,” you yell at him and you were sure Daniel was now wide awake. Max was watching you with wide eyes. "Stop talking about things you have no idea about," you shoot a glance at the clock. 12:25 AM. Looks like a lovely time to go for a walk in a foreign country you've never been to before. You collect your phone and wallet and march to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I need fresh air. Go to bed."

"I'm coming with you, Y/N!"

You opened the door and left, not letting Max come after you. You started to run and in front of the hotel, you stopped. Where to now? You have no idea where you are or what is near the hotel, and you desperately needed to put some distance between you and Max.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Running like that? Are you crazy?" you hear a pissed Max behind you. You tried to wipe the tears in a desperate attempt to look like you haven't been bawling your eyes out. "What happened inside?"

"Nothing, Max."

"Let's talk about it. Please."

"Talk about it? Fine. Let's do it! What should I start with? The fact that I've had a crush on you for three years or should I give you some love advice for the girl you like?"

"Say that one more time," Max said, walking towards you.

"Say what one more time?"

"You liked me for the past three years?" he was now in front of you, feeling his hot breaths on your face, and you could smell the alcohol.

"That is not relevant."

"Why not? I should know if someone has feelings for me, no? At least that's what I deserve, I think."

"Stop being so fucking cocky, Verstappen. This is not a joke," you puffed. "Forget I said a damn thing," you started to walk back into the hotel.

"Well, if I have to forget what you said that means I'm not allowed to tell you that I've liked you too for the past three years, right?"

You stoped. He said what? You were dreaming. Maybe you were the one that drank a lot. You were drunk, that's the reason why you just heard Max confessing his feelings for you. Or maybe you were both drunk.

"Max, let's go to bed. You've had a lot to drink, maybe we'll talk in the morning if you remember anything."

He came to you and hugged you from behind.

"I know what I said. Sure, I've had a few beers to drink, but I know that what I'm telling you now it's the truth."

#max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fandom #formula 1 oneshot #formula one imagine #formula one oneshot #red bull racing

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