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lowkeyren · 6 months ago

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reverse dating tropes w hsr men! (pt. 2)

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — gepard, aventurine, sunday (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 2.1k, downbad gepard + flirty aven + sunday is js fluff overload, wrecked my brain out for this, serval robin cameo xx, anyway pls enjoy!! reblogs r appreciated <3

boothill jing yuan blade vers here!

gepard ♡‧₊˚

"blind date" but gepard is just too shy to ask you out himself so serval does him a favour —setting you up on a date with him.

gepard clutches the bouquet of ball peonies tightly behind his back; he catches sight of you sitting on a bench, patiently waiting for him. to ease his nerves, he takes a deep breath, reassuring himself, it’s going to be alright gepard, just go over there, give them the flowers, and ask them out! surely it’s not that hard…

upon spotting him, you rise from your seat and wave eagerly in his direction. he hastens his steps, closing the distance between you. as he stands in front of you, you can see a faint blush tinting his cheeks, the rosy hue contrasting with his fair skin. he clears his throat, “ahem…sorry to keep you waiting.” revealing the bouquet behind his back, he averts his gaze downwards, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

you accept the flowers graciously, smiling warmly at him. “and would you please—” in that moment, his gaze flickers up to meet yours, it's the worst thing he could have done.

oh aeons… you look so beautiful. his heart races, threatening to leap out of his chest, and he finds himself at a loss for words, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions. “hm?” you tilt your head with a soft smile, the sound of your voice washes over him like a gentle breeze, leaving him tongue-tied. he’s sure you can see the redness spreading to his ears now.

panicking, he blurts out “—pass the flowers to my sister.” (re: go on a date with me)

his eyes widened at his own words, wait no he meant to ask you out on a date!

“ah… okay, no problem!” you reply, masking your surprise with a polite smile, quickly dismissing any lingering curiosity. though you do find it a bit odd that he would arrange a meeting just to pass on flowers to his sister, but hey perhaps as the captain of silvermane guards, he's simply too busy to visit serval himself. in any case, you admire his thoughtfulness towards his sibling.

“now tell me brother dearest, to what do i owe the pleasure of receiving ball peonies from you?” serval crosses her arm across her chest, learning against her workbench, her face deadpan, oh she’s definitely aware of what happened.

sensing her brother’s nervousness, she shakes her head teasingly. "oh, nevermind! please, spare me the explanation… you totally fumbled, and told them to give the flowers to me? really, geppie? and how long do you plan to drag this out for?"

gepard sighs as he realises there's no use in trying to deflect her sharp observation. he can only resort to his last-ditch effort now: asking serval to set you up on a date with him.

so now, you find yourself sitting at a cozy diner, waiting for your so-called “blind date” that serval has set you up on.

(“i guarantee you won’t regret it!” serval throws a playful wink at you; you give up trying to figure her underlying intentions)

suddenly, a man walks over to you, you assume that he is your date— “gepard? what are you doing here..?” gepard's cheeks flush with embarrassment as he stands before you, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. "i, uh... i’m your blind date." he admits, swallowing nervously.

you let out a soft laugh, “oh i was hoping it would be you.” you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness.

hoping it was him? so that means you feel the same right?

needless to say, your date went well. before you part ways, you press a soft kiss to his already-burning cheeks (don’t do that again, you’re gonna break him), and you disappear into the distance, leaving behind a trail of butterflies in his stomach; he presses his hand against the spot you pecked, he thinks he might not be able to sleep for the next few nights, what you have done to the poor guy.

oh gepard, he is so deeply, utterly, in love with you.

aventurine ୨୧｡˚ ⋆

CEO playboy aventurine takes an interest in you, but you unintentionally lead him on, so he ends up falling heads over heels for you.

“meet me in my office in 5 minutes.” you immediately pause at what you’re doing, and read the message from your boss over and over again. oh gosh you’re really done for now! what did you do wrong?! your mind races as you try to recall any mistakes you’ve made recently, but nothing comes to mind…

you nervously knock on the door to aventurine’s office, feeling your palms grow clammy with sweat. a voice rings out, “ah, yes please come in.”

you step into the room, not daring to meet your boss’ gaze. “i’m here sir, as you requested. is there anything you need from me?” you suddenly find the marble floor very interesting, opting to stare at it as you anxiously wait for his reply.

aww, are they really that shy to see me? that’s cute.

aventurine’s next sentence catches you completely off guard, “so, what do you think about my new tie, hm?” he walks over to you, a smirk forming on his lips.

is this one of his stupid schemes again? aeons, this won’t work on you.

“...it's crooked. let me fix it for you.” you reach out and adjust his tie, being careful as to not accidentally choke him (even if you really want to, just because he scared the shit out of you by calling you into his office for something like this), lest you get fired.

aventurine is pleasantly taken aback by your boldness. usually those who fall victim to his flirtatious ways are quick to shower him with compliments, but your reaction is refreshingly unexpected. or perhaps you are challenging him? oh well, a little gamble never hurts, right?

it's obvious he’s taken a liking to you; for the next few weeks, he's been calling you to his office more and more frequently, to the point where you're no longer nervous to enter, as you know it’s probably nothing serious. plus, you’ve gotten used to the “strange” reasons he requests for your presence.

including the times where he made you do your work in his office, claiming that he feels lonely and needs your (it can only be you, no one else) company. or the many-times that you told him to manage his money wisely because he CANNOT be spending thousands on you.

“just a small gift for my favourite employee!” (and it's a whole ass car that costs way above your pay grade)

at this point, you're beginning to think he should hire a secretary. you subconsciously bring the idea up during one of your visits, what you didn’t expect was for him to eagerly agree with you. his eyes twinkle with amusement, “no wonder you’re my favourite, of course you’re interested in being my secretary, well lucky you! your new position begins tomorrow.”

so instead of hiring a secretary like any normal person would, he makes YOU his secretary. and hey, when did you ever express that you would like to be his secretary? this scumbag…

“oh don’t be so nervous sweetheart, just sort these out for me—” he hands you a folder of documents, his fingers deliberately brushing against yours, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “and stay here while you work on them.. want to see your pretty face.”

you think your boss is insufferable, even more so now that you’ve fallen for his charms. it's as if he enjoys playing this game of cat and mouse, keeping you on your toes with his teasing remarks and lingering touches. yet beneath the facade of annoyance, there’s something undeniably alluring about the way he looks at you, as if you're the only person in the room. well you’re not far off; you are the sole focus of his attention.

like right now, while you attempt to maintain your composure under his unmistakably, shameless, lovesick gaze; his lips curl into a mischievous smirk, “oh by the way, dinner's on me tonight. choose whatever you like." with a coy smile, you decide to tease him, “what? can’t even ask me out properly?” you quip, raising an eyebrow in faux innocence.

and later that night you find your boss on one knee, waiting at your front porch, in his hands are freshly bought flowers. his eyes immediately light up the moment you open the door, a horrified look on your face. “will you go on a date with me?” oh how he delights in your flustered expression.

“i said ask me out! not get down on one knee and propose!”

“...so will you?”

don’t worry, he knows you'll look forward to the day he proposes (you’re not even dating, yet) but for now he’ll spoil you with the most lavish meal known to mankind, not that you’re complaining about it either.

sunday ༊*·˚

not-so-accidental confession with sunday who intentionally leads you to overhear him talking about his feelings for you.

you raise your hand, ready to knock on the door, but a voice from inside halts your movement. you hesitate, your knuckles hovering just inches away from the wood, as the unexpected sound piques your curiosity.

“brother, why didn’t you tell me this before?” it’s no doubt that the soft-spoken voice belongs to robin, her tone carrying a tinge of surprise; and by the way she addresses the other person, it can't be anyone but sunday himself.

their conversation sounds tense, you think it's inappropriate to eavesdrop, but just as you were about to leave, sunday's voice catches your attention, and you freeze at the sound of your name slipping past his lips.

“—their infectious laugh, how their eyes light up with pure innocence, their unwavering passion and selflessness that knows no bounds; always putting others before themselves. how can i possibly not love them?”

your face flushes with warmth upon hearing his words, and you're unable to suppress a cough that escapes; you bring your hands to your mouth, hoping to stifle any further embarrassment.

robin chuckles, “oh brother, i understand exactly what you mean”, a genuine smile spreads across her face. “...seems like you’re expecting a guest” she raises an eyebrow knowingly, “i’ll take my leave now." with that, she gives sunday a reassuring pat on the shoulder and gracefully exits the room, shooting you a playful wink as she walks by.

uh oh… you’re totally busted

you immediately turn on your heels, trying to slip away before sunday realises you're there. but just before you can make your escape, someone grabs your wrist, holding you firmly in place. you turn around to see sunday looking down at you, his eyes flickering with emotions swirling within him.

"i swear i didn't hear anything!" you exclaim, waving your hand in front of you defensively.

“really…nothing?”

“yup! nothing at all.” you lie through your teeth, cringing at yourself.

“nothing? ...but i made sure you were there to hear everything.” a hint of disappointment evident in his voice.

“huh..?” your expression twists with confusion, a faint blush creeping up from your neck. you were meant to hear that? he just poured his heart out to his sister…about you!

sunday smiles, oh there’s no point in lying now, he knows you heard him. (as expected)

he steps closer to you, his arms caging you between the wall and himself. “you know i meant everything i said right?” a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, leaving you momentarily speechless, unsure of how to respond; you can feel your chest swelling with warmth, his wings flutter subconsciously as he awaits your response.

“y-yes…” you avert your gaze, too shy to stare into his eyes. “please, look at me…” he gently tilts your chin up, his eyes boring into yours. “i wanted to tell you that i love you, for so long” he looks vulnerable at that moment, a side he only ever shows to you; a side of him only you get to see.

“i love y—” sunday gently places his finger on your lips, silencing you. you tilt your head at his gesture, your mouth still agape. “don’t say it back yet…” moving his hand to hold your face, “allow me to take you out on a date, then tell me how you feel.” you interlace your fingers with the his that rest against your face, nodding your head in acceptance.

though sunday longs for you to utter those 3 words to him, he wants to make that moment perfect, just as you are to him. despite sunday’s intention for you to overhear him, he regrets not being able to catch your reaction to his words, so next time (re: on the date), he vows to repeat it as many times as necessary; he will do anything to fulfill your every wish.

and should you desire for him to put a ring on your finger, he will do it in a heartbeat.

✧.*

masterlist boothill jing yuan blade vers here!

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wandaslittlebird · 3 months ago

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Her Special Girl

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After being away at college for three years, you finally come home for the holidays. And no one is more excited to see you than your stepmom.

CW: Stepmom/Stepdaughter, MOMMY ISSUES, slight daddy issues, mommy kink, cheating, breastfeeding, fingering (R receiving), mentions of strap usage, flashbacks, mentions of past: suicidal thoughts, loss of virginity, ghosting

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: I think if I keep this up, they’re going to revoke my degree in psychology and bury me for defending psychosexual development.

A/N: I could be talked into making a part 2 for this. And by talked into I mean approximately 1 person needs to ask. I had way too much fun with this.

Part 1 of Her Special Girl

——————————————————--

She knew something was wrong when you had called her to pick you from your mom’s house a week early. You weren’t supposed to be coming home till Christmas Eve, but here you were, curled up in her passenger seat only three days after being home for Christmas break.

Wanda wasn’t supposed to be the one picking you up. You originally called your father, but he was, unsurprisingly, unavailable. Apparently he was off playing ‘not the world’s worst stepdad’ with Wanda’s boys for the week. Probably some bonding time enforced by Wanda. He was never terribly keen on spending time with his family. Plus it got the miserable old man out of her hair for a few days. Merry Christmas to Wanda.

“Mom’s house was that bad, huh?” she asked. You simply nodded in response. She made a sympathetic noise and rubbed the back of your head. “I’m sorry sweetheart. We’ll talk about it when we get home?”

You nodded again, thankful she wasn’t going to fill the car with awkward small talk. You reached for the radio, turning up the quiet christmas music. You rested your head against your knees, absently humming the familiar music to soothe yourself. You didn’t notice the way Wanda’s heart absolutely melted everytime she got a glance at you. As much as it broke her heart that you’d had a bad experience at your mother’s house, she was glad to have you home for Christmas.

—------

Wanda and your father had married when you were around 16. In the first years, you weren’t close. In fact, you had hated Wanda at first. The kindness and gentleness she offered you was so alien and unfamiliar. Everytime she did you a favor without being asked, or made a move to give you physical reassurance, you felt like your inside would turn to mush. By that point, you were old enough to decide when you wanted to go to your dad’s house, and it felt easier to avoid her entirely than confront the gnawing feeling in your chest that arose whenever you interacted with her. So you spent those years at your mom’s house.

But as time passed, something shifted.

In what was supposed to be your last semester of high school, it became pretty clear you were not going to pass. Your life, the one you had planned for at least, fell into a tailspin. You watched all of your friends move on without you. Both of your parents were extremely disappointed with you and seemed to give up on you in favor of the new families they’d created. All of your hopes and dreams of finally escaping to college were put on hold. You had completely lost all direction.

And one night in late July, when there was no school to look forward to in August and no hope of starting a life of your own without a high school diploma, you hit rock bottom. You were lying down in the shower at your dad’s house and you found yourself unable to get up. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do it anymore. And just when you thought your body would decay into the blue tile, you heard a knock at the door.

“Honey? Are you okay in there?”

It was Wanda. You wanted to yell that you were fine and you'd be out in a minute, but you couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. So you didn’t respond.

You heard the sound of a key pressing into the lock, and the hesitant steps of your stepmother making her way into the bathroom. “Honey?” she called again. She gasped when she found your limp body in the shower. She threw the glass door open, turned off the shower that had long since gone cold, and wrapped you up in a towel. You were too far gone to be embarrassed that your stepmother was seeing you naked at 18 years old. All you could do was throw your arms around her and sob and babble apologies.

“Oh! My sweet girl. How long have you been in here? I just woke up to use the restroom and I heard the water still running. You poor thing, have you been in here all night? You’re freezing. Your poor lips are purple! Come on, let's get you warmed up.”

With impressive strength, she was able to pick you up and carry you to bed. She threw all of your softest blankets around you cocooning you with warmth on all sides. Then she sat on the bed next to you, wiping the cold wet hair from your forehead.

And for once, you were too weak to push her away. Too weak to fight the magnetic draw you had always had towards the woman. You needed her more than anything in the world. You wanted to be surrounded by her. You craved an impossible closeness with her. The hole in your heart had grown so big it nearly devoured you, and she was here to patch it up and kiss it all better.

So you melted into her touch, inching your body closer to where she sat on the bed until you were wrapped around her. You almost expected her to inquire as to where this was coming from, the sudden closeness after avoiding her for so long. You thought maybe she would even reprimand you for your childish behavior, or call you weird for acting like this with her. But she didn’t. “Aww my sweet girl. You’ll be alright. I’m not going anywhere. Mama’s here.”

And she didn’t call you weird when you tugged on her nightshirt, silently asking her to lay down with you. She simply crawled under the covers, kissed your head, and pulled your still naked body into her arms. “You poor thing, you're still freezing. It’s okay, mama will keep warm.”

And she didn’t reprimand you when you decided there was still too much separation, so you pulled her nightshirt up over her head, leaving her bare in bed with you. “Mmm, you’re right this will get you all nice and warmed up. You're a very smart girl.”

“I love you, mama.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

She tangled her body into yours, enveloping you in the warmest embrace. Her skin was so incredibly soft against your, pressed into every inch of your body. You could feel the way her heart overflowed with contented joy with you between her arms.

And nothing was ever the same after that. In the span of twenty minutes with her, you’d gone from believing you could die on the shower floor and no one would care, to feeling like the single most important thing in her entire world. You were hers.

And you were hers when she gave you your first kiss over an episode of “Legend of Korra.” You’d been so over eager, it’d felt like you were trying to eat her face, but she didn’t make fun of you. She just calmly pulled back, giving you all the instructions you needed to make your second kiss perfect.

And you were hers when she took your virginity while your father was away on a business trip. She had laid you out on the bed, kissing slow trails down your stomach while you gasped and shuttered at every new sensation. That first night, she treated you like you were made of the finest glass, beautiful and delicate.

And you were hers when she cried into your arms, begging you not to go so far away for college. With her help, you’d finally gotten a high school diploma. You had the funding from your father to go anywhere you wanted. She wanted to want you to go, she really did. She wanted to want whatever was best for you, but she wasn’t ready to let go of you yet.

But when you packed your bags and left anyway, you couldn’t be hers any longer. There were no phone calls, no texts, no apologies or explanations for why you left. You were simply gone like you’d never existed in the first place.

—------

“So,” she asked, helping you carry in your luggage and dropping it in the foyer, “do you wanna talk about what happened with your mother?” She knew you and your mother had never gotten along. She was honestly more wondering why you even decided to go home in the first place. You had spent Christmases with your friends since you’d left for college, but this year you had inexplicably decided to come home.

You shrugged. “Same as always, I guess. There’s never been a group of people I’m so palpably unimportant to. She and my stepdad have a family of their own, ya know? And I’m just… not part of it. Every time I’m there I feel like a ghost haunting a happy family.” Tears welled up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks.

“Oh, honey,” Wanda sighed, cupping your cheek with her hand. You only cried harder at the gesture. It was so kind. So gentle. So familiar. You fought your every instinct to not throw yourself against, clinging to her like a petulant child. You wanted to be close to her again.

The look in her eyes made you feel like you were going to explode. She was listening to you, like actually listening to you. You couldn’t help but pour your heart out to her. “I don’t even know why I tried to come home this year. I just had this idea that I was gonna come home after being gone for so long and she was going to have magically changed. I just had this, like… fantasy that she’d wrap her arms around me and apologize for not being there for me, say that all this time away has made her realize that she can’t live without me, tell me how I’m her most special little girl and she’ll do anything to make it right.”

You turned away from her, suddenly very embarrassed of all the things you’d just confessed. “It was stupid. Whatever. It’s never been like that and it’s never going to be like that. I’m fucking 22, I wasn’t going to be mommy’s little princess anyway.” You felt the urge to run away. You couldn’t bear to look at your stepmother’s face any longer. You made a quick break for the stairs, but Wanda caught your wrist.

“Honey, wait!” she said, pulling you back around to face her. Your head spun and your skin tingled when she touched you. “You know you're still my special girl, right?”

“Of course, but you have your boys and they’re your whole world. And that’s a good thing! They’re really lucky to have you, I just…” You trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

“You just?” she asked after you didn’t speak for a minute.

Another torrent of tears stung your eyes. “I can’t be your special girl. I’m not even really yours.”

Wanda tilted her head in confusion. “What do you mean by that, honey?”

“I’m not your baby,” you said, choked up by your failed attempt to not let your tears fall. You ducked your head, avoiding her gaze at all cost.

She took a step towards you. “Hey,” she started, reaching for your chin to make you look at her. “I’ve missed you, you know? While you’ve been gone.”

“You did?” you asked in almost a whisper.

“I did,” she reassured. “I thought about you all the time. I never let your father get rid of your bedroom, even though he wanted to move his office there. And there’s still a chair at the end of the dining table for you. And in the winter time I always buy that peppermint creamer for my coffee because it was always your favorite.”

Your resolve finally crumbled and you threw yourself around her, clinging to her desperately. “I missed you too, mama. I wanted to come home to see you, but I didn’t think you’d ever wanna see me again. After I… I thought you’d hate me forever!” you were sobbing in her arms, head tucked under her chin as her long nails scratched your scalp, just how you like.

“Shh, baby it’s okay. I could never hate you. You’re home now. Mama’s got you,” she cooed. “Let’s get you a nice warm bath, get you all cleaned up, and then we can watch a movie in my room. Does that sound good?”

You nodded, reluctantly removing yourself from her. She reached out for your hand and smiled when you grabbed her arm with both hands, clinging to her awkwardly as you made your way up the steps. She led you to the master bathroom that had a fancy corner tub. She ran the water, checking the temperature to make sure the water was just right.

“Alright pretty girl, arms up,” she said, lifting the hem of your shirt over your head. She neatly folded your shirt and placed it on the counter. She turned around to find you with your arms bashfully crossed over your chest. She took your hand. “None of that, sweet girl. It’s just you and mama, you don’t need to cover yourself.”

“‘s cold,” you mumbled, goosebumps rising across your chest.

“I know,” she said, bending down to unbutton your pants and push them down around your ankles. You wrapped your arms around her neck, using her for balance as you kicked out of your pants. “We’re gonna have you all warmed up in just a second, sweetheart.”

As soon as you were naked, you scrambled over to the warm tub. Steam was rising from the water’s surface where it met the cool air. You hissed as your cold feet met the water. Wanda giggled at your eagerness, folding your pants and underwear and placing them on top of your shirt. “Careful, pretty girl,” she chuckled.

You sank into the tub, slowly allowing your body to adjust to the temperature. You sighed in contentment, resting your head back against the ledge of the tub. You rolled your head to the side to face Wanda, who had stripped off her jeans, leaving her in a long gray sweater that barely covered her ass. Your eyes glimmered at the sight of the beautiful woman. “Will you get in with me?” you asked. “Please?”

“Not tonight, honey,” she said, sitting down on the ledge of the tub behind your head. She stuck her feet into the water on either side of you, leaving your head between her bare thighs. “Mama’s already had her bath. Now keep your head tilted back for me. I don’t wanna get any soap in your eyes.” Any protests you had were quickly cut short when you felt long fingers massaging your favorite coconut shampoo in your hair. Wanda worked cautiously, careful not to get any soap in your eyes. She somehow managed to keep your face almost entirely dry throughout the entire process.

You nearly started to cry when she started applying soap to your body with a soft washcloth. It had been so long since someone had touched you so gently. You could feel how much she cared for you as she softly scrubbed the day's grime from your body. Each caress left trails of goosebumps rising on your soapy skin. You felt like you might melt into the bathwater.

“Alright little love, kneel up nice and straight for me so I can get you all clean,” she calmly commanded. You hesitantly got up on your knees and turned to face her, reluctant to pull your body from the warmth of the water. Now that you were looking up at her, you felt suddenly exposed again. It was much easier to be naked in front of her with your back turned.

You took in a sharp inhale when the washcloth landed between your legs. “Mama…” you whined, looking up at her with worried eyes. Her touch felt so good you couldn’t help but buck against the cloth while a knot still coiled in the pit of your stomach. You had the fleeing thought that you should tell her to stop and that this was wrong. But as she continued her ministrations, your head seemed to empty itself of any such thoughts. All you could focus on was the growing sensation between your legs.

“Aww, sweet girl,” Wanda cooed. “It’s okay that you like it when you like it when mama touches you like this honey. You don't have to be embarrassed, angel.” She made slow, teasing circles around your clit through the thick cloth. You grabbed her arm, keeping her in place until she finally had had enough of the teasing and gently freed herself of your grip.

“Mama,” you whined again as she continued to wash down the curve of your ass and the inside of your thighs. You weren’t sure why, exactly, you found yourself chanting her name, but it seemed to be the only word you could find.

She smiled. “You’re okay, angel. Mama got you. I love you so very much, sweetheart. I’m gonna take care of you, just like I used to. There’s no need to be embarrassed or guilty or scared. You’re still your mama’s special girl, okay?” She leaned down to kiss your forehead. You closed your eyes and allowed her complete control over your body. “We’re all finished, detka. You can sit back down now.” She guided you back down into the water, turning you back around and resting your head against her inner thigh. She gently started to dry your hair as you settled back into the water. You found yourself wrapping your arms around her calf, clutching at her like she might fly away.

“Mama?”

“Yes, little love?”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“How do you mean, angel?” Her voice was laced with concern. You weren’t exactly sure how to respond, so you nuzzled your face into her thigh in embarrassment. “Hey little love.” She bent down so she could see your face. “It’s okay. You can tell mama. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

You shifted around uncomfortably, unsure of how to phrase what you wanted to say. “I need you really badly mama,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I know I’m too old, but I wanna be your special little girl forever.”

“Oh honey,” she soothed, “you’re never too old to be my special little girl. Even if you wanted me to take care of you forever, I’d love every second of it.” She laid back against the wall, closing her eyes and allowing herself to fantasize about what it would be like to have you back. Forever, this time. A faint smile painted her face at the thought. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re too old to need your mama. They might not understand it like you do, but you are a very very special girl and your mama loves you very very much.”

You nodded against her, shyly tucking your face back into her thigh. You sat like that for a minute, letting her fingers scratch your damp scalp while you smiled in contentment.

But you could only rest naked between her bare legs for so long before the little pings of arousal took over. You turned around to face her, this time straddling a single one of her legs between two of your own. You sat back on your feet, resting your head on her knee.

“Mama, please. I need to feel you again,” you sighed. You desperately craved the feeling of closeness you’d once shared. The feeling that you and her were the only two people in the world, and that you were as important to her as she was to you, and that was the only thing that mattered.

You wanted her inside of you, touching all the parts of you no one else got to see. You yearned for the way she made you feel like the most precious thing in the universe, chasing your pleasure like it was her own. She felt good when you felt good.

Conversely, you wanted to be inside of her, pushing into her like a puzzle piece that had always meant to fit together. You felt like you could rewrite time, finally inside your mama like you were supposed to be all along.

She reached down beside the tub and pulled up a fluffy pink towel. She stretched it out with her arms, welcoming you into a soft embrace. She took such care in drying off every part of you, down to your calves that still stayed in the water.

You sat in between her legs, her arms wrapped around your bare body. She pulled you close to her, your back flush against her chest. Then she wrapped her legs around yours, effectively pinning them open against the wall of the tub.

You pulled at the sleeves of her sweater, desperate to get closer to her. There was still too much fabric between the two of your bodies.

She shushed you pleas with gentle hands. “Not right now, detka. Let mama show you how much she’s missed you, okay? Then we can cuddle up all naked under the soft blankets on the bed just how we like to. Does that sound okay?”

You let out a displeased whine. You were extremely impatient. It had been years since you’d had her so close. But as she stroked your hair with one hand and your clit with the other, you found yourself more amenable to suggestions. “P-promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart,” she reassured.

She kept her pace just steady enough that talking, and thinking for that matter, became difficult. “A-and we stay like that all-all night?”

“All night, angel.”

You finally nodded in agreement, relaxing against her. You kept a ironclad grip on her bicep, feeling the muscles flex as she played with your most sensitive parts.

She moved her fingers down through your folds, teasing your entrance. You tried to force your hips down onto her fingers, but her legs kept you from moving. You settled instead for whining like an injured puppy. “Please mama, please.”

“Mmm,” she hummed in your ear, circling your entrance with the tip of her finger. “I’m so lucky. I get to have my most special girl and all her most special parts,” she sunk her middle finger into you, eliciting a mangled groan, “all to myself.”

“All yours,” you assured, feeling her finger curl and twist inside of you, making room for more. She was always so calculated with the way she pleased you. You were like a present she was methodically unwrapping, peeling each piece of tape off, careful not to damage the paper. She was in no rush to tear you apart. She kept her painfully slow pace, but sunk a second finger into you. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head. “I’m all yours, mama.”

She leaned your head back onto her shoulder and kissed your cheek. You didn’t even notice the uncomfortable strain the position should’ve caused your neck. There was just her everywhere, caressing each part of your body with a tenderness you’d never experienced anywhere else. Her hand explored your chest, teasing hard nipples with gentle pinches and soft touches. Nails scraped their way down the soft expanse of your stomach, paying special attention to the curve of your hip bone.

“Mama, I love you. You feel so good inside of me, please don’t stop. Oh god please never stop,” you whined. You didn’t even care that she was moving her fingers too slow to make you cum. You were so content with just her filling you up, touching the parts of you no one else got to touch. You got to be hers all over again.

You thought back to your days with her, home alone. She’d let you sit on her lap in her office, arms and legs wrapped around her like a koala bear, her strap nestled inside of you. She was always so impressed by your ability to stay still for hours on end. But how could you want for anything more than to be full of her?

“You’re so tight and warm for mama,” she cooed. “I love feeling you around my fingers, baby. You make such pretty noises.” She sped up her movements, highlighting the sound of the wetness between your legs. You were nearly dripping a trail down the side of the tub.

You tried to buck against her hand, but her legs kept you perfectly still. “Ooh mama. I love you. I love you mama,” you cried, unable to escape the building pleasure of her fingers. She slipped a third finger inside of you, only further spurring your desperate cries. “Please mama! Please, I'm so full. Mama I wanna cum for you. I wanna cum on your fingers. Please! Please let me cum on your fingers.”

Her fingers twisted and curled in all the ways that drove you crazy. You knew you couldn’t cum until she touched your clit, which she was tactfully avoiding for that exact reason, but you still felt nearly out of your mind with pleasure. You were jerking against her now, causing her to wrap her arms around your waist. “Calm down honey. Mama’s got you. You’re doing so good for me sweet girl.”

“Good girl for mama,” you mumbled brainlessly. The continuous pounding of her fingers made your head spin. There was nothing in the whole world but you and your mama. Nothing else mattered.

“That’s right, angel. You’re mama’s good girl,” she praised.

You nodded dumbly, unable to muster any more thoughts than “mama” which you chanted repeatedly. She shoved three fingers in your mouth, making the word come out even more unintelligible. You whined around her hand, but obediently sucked her fingers.

“Can you touch yourself for me princess?” She asked, both her hands too occupied to finally put an end to your abuse. You both knew that just a little pressure to your clit would finally push you over the edge.

You didn’t even acknowledge her question, just hopelessly cried around her fingers. “Aww sweet girl, you need mama to do it for you? That’s okay, honey. Mama will take care of it.” She pulled her fingers from your mouth, now covered in your spit, and reached down between your legs. She kissed the side of your head while she finally attended to your neglected clit. “That’s it, princess. Cum on mama’s hand.”

You were nearly silent as you fell over the edge, unable to do little more than jerk and squeak. She gently led you down from the high, removing her fingers and bracing you against herself so you didn’t tumble back into the now cold bathtub. She cleaned you up with a washcloth and wrapped you back up in the soft towel.

She chuckled when she picked you up and saw your face, blissed out and stupid. She thought back to before you had left for college, when you were 18 and it took a lot more than three fingers and 20 minutes to get you here. “Nobody has touched you like that for a long time, have they angel?”

You shook your head against her chest. “Only you mama.”

She smiled at the admission. Laying you down at the center of her big bed. You pawed at her sweater when she pulled away. “I’m just taking this off. I’ll be down there in just a second.”

She crawled under the covers only a moment later, pulling you closer and discarding the towel onto the floor. You nuzzled into her neck, wrapping your arms around her waist. You were so warm and so loved. You felt so important again, just like you did the fateful night she’d pulled you from the cold shower. In that moment, you couldn’t wrap your head around why you’d ever left. How could you ever have left anything so perfect?

“Mama, can I be inside of you next time?” You mumbled into her chest, unwilling to completely separate yourself from her.

“Of course you can,” she replied, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. “Anything for my special girl.”

You smiled. “Can I use the dark red toy? The one that gives you the little bump right here?” You touched her lower stomach in indication.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the request, recalling the only other time she allowed you to use that toy right before you left. Seeing the bulge in her lower stomach had gotten you so excited you’d pathetically rutted into like a teenage boy. “Only if you can be gentle with mama.”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Gentle with mama.”

She smiled down at you, noticing your eyelids start to droop. “That’s enough for tonight, little love. Rest now and we can talk some more in the morning, okay?” She gently guided your head down to her chest. She smiled when you almost immediately took her nipple into your mouth, suckling contentedly, just like she’d taught you to do. Oh, how she loved you.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift off into a daydream. Maybe she could convince you to move schools so you could come back, live at home with her. Every stressful assignment or class or situation with your friends could end like this: in this intimate act that drowned out both your stress and hers. Maybe if you’d stay, she could get on hormones and start actually producing milk again. All for you. All for her baby girl. And she'd remind you how loved you were everyday, and you never take her for granted again.

Yes, she’ll have you back in her arms just like it used to be. You’ll come home to her, and you’ll finally see that you’ll never need anyone else ever again.

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #mommy wanda #mommy!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #stepmom wanda #stepmom!wanda #wanda maximoff x y/n

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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

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do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days.

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days.

It’s scary.

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space.

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up.

But you’re not quite there yet.

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy.

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting.

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice.

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting.

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either.

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause.

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally.

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick.

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach.

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment.

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all.

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat.

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat.

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself.

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position.

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him.

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass.

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that.

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step.

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy.

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you.

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea.

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence.

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there.

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do.

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue.

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder.

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out.

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person.

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now.

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort.

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you.

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him.

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle.

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,�� Derek finally speaks up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer.

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up.

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes.

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man.

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that.

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind.

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning.

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—”

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again.

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this.

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings.

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you.

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff.

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group.

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice.

Soon, it’s just the two of you.

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond.

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.”

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high.

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts.

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence.

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice.

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud.

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing.

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset.

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running.

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears.

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream.

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care.

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right.

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you.

You feel like you might throw up.

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away.

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking.

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is.

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying.

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder.

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette.

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you.

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection.

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you.

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them.

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again.

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale.

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice.

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive.

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more.

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby.

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again.

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink.

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words.

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles.

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk.

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup.

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant.

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit.

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it.

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede.

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done.

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you.

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him.

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom.

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta.

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever.

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side.

“You in there?”

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup.

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing.

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes.

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating.

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him.

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate.

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed.

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive.

Spencer attempts to speak again.

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?”

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face.

You don’t know where it comes from, either.

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms.

Too scared.

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too.

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room.

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final.

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home.

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do.

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing.

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet.

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move.

If only time would freeze before he could walk away.

But it doesn’t.

He sucks in a decisive breath.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

It’s that fucking phone call all over again.

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up.

part 5.5

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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marigoldenblooms · 8 months ago

Text

That's a Wrap - One Shot

Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end.

A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!

Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.

~~~

It was never fun when the producers came by.

They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun.

“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull- though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.

You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!”

Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-

“Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”

“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart.

The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her.

Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go.

They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda’s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..”

The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”

Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit.

You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”

“Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”

Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.”

Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything- “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”

The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…”

Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs.

The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt.

The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-”

Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front.

Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.

Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.”

Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.”

------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.

Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work.

Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together).

However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough. ~~~

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rinnstars · 2 months ago

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third’s times the charm!

in which you try to confess three times before rin finally understands your feelings

itoshi rin x reader : mainly just fluff, a bit of angst of readers part, no proofreading + likes n reblogs r rlly appreciate ily <3

rin has always been an enigma, as if hes from another world - an alien like figure on your life yet a constant, like an orbit from another galaxy orbiting around you. slowly, youve grown fond of him and suddenly, its no longer just a friendahip - your heart is pumping weirdly, your palms are sweaty, your throat goes dry the second youre beside him (which is most of the time but hey!) maybe its part of growing up, you tell yourself, but deep down this is the “love” you’ve seen in storybooks, manga, movies. denial is always the first thing, avoiding rin during break times, opting to go with your other class friends. eventually, you fall back to the same routine, beside him for lunch in class, stealing the candies he brought (specially for you, he wants to confess but he doesnt.) and of course with love, the next step should be confession as all fourteen year olds rationalise, and thus began your attempt at rizzing confessing to itoshi rin who has become your star.

#1 —VALENTINE CHOCOLATE?!

as all mangas and love story dictates: a gift during valentine practically screams a love confession, if not already hinted by the hearts clumsily pasted onto the heart-shaped box containing your own hand-made chocolates. of course, it comes with a sort of insecurity - what if he doesnt like it? what if he doesnt see me that way? what if our friendship forever changes? what ifs? yet, you held on tightly to the chocolate, walking into class to rin. until you see your own desk beside his flooded with valentine chocolates addressed to rin himself where all of the sudden, you wished to run away far away, you wished to live just in solitude by the ocean, you wish to pretend to be sick and go back home and cry again and again. its stupid, you think, youre just another person in love, youre nothing special. yet, when rin looks at you with sparkling eyes at your chocolates unlike anyone else, you feel as though youre at the top of the war, youre like diamond amongst the rest, that maybe rin sees you differently.

“is that for me?” if he didnt looked so expectant, so hopeful, you might have just not given it to him, simply from the pile of chocolates (that you hope hell pass to you after valentines, and he does.) on the desks. you nodded, passing it to him with a awkward smile. he doesnt get the hint you think, as he opens it without hesitation to eat one - his usual grimace that melted into a small smile changed into a grin, chewing happily onto the overly sweet chocolate you made. you want to be mad, that youll always be in competition with everyone, but when he smiles like that, youve got no choice but to look at him like hes built the very world for you, like hes your star in the dark, like hes your own galaxy.

its now or never. whats the worst that can happen? - that your friendship is forever broken, that your heart is shattered by his own hands, that youll never ever see him the same way again And he’ll never see you again?! “i.. i like you..!” courage, right, thats what those mangas would call it, but deep down it was just an impulse, as if you were born to say it to him, born to love him, like you were soulmates. he doesnt even blink, replying back with about the worst thing someone can hear when they confess : “i hope so? we’re friends.” with the most deadpan voice that had you question everything. nothing like this happens in those romance mangas - he should have either said yes or no! not an in-between?! this doesnt match up to any calculations, not by your friends, not by romance mangas, not by any youtube videos could have prepared you for that response.

nonetheless, you went home with a plastic bag with all of itoshi’s confession chocolates. thats a win? sort of. but its clear that you need a more straightforward approach to get your romantic intention, NOT platonic intention across.

#2 — CONGRATULATIONAL FLOWERS?!

after long months of cringing at the first failure attempt at confessing, and long days of rereading cheesy love mangas to gather ideas, it was finally time for round 2. this time not because of simply encouragement, but from the bursting butterflies in your heart. ever since that, your lovesickness have only gotten worst - if hanahaki was real, no doubt flowers would be pouring out of your lungs from the amount of love that has grown roots into your heart. every moment felt like straight from a k-drama through rose tinted lenses, every action of his felt like a confession, every second with him felt like heaven. and enough was this barrier called embarrassment, fear, cowardice to stop you from pursuing. another year had passed and now each second is like diamond - counting down every second to when lunch starts, to a free period, to after school, to after club - anytime where you can maybe, just maybe spot rin even if he ocassionally runs off for football training that had only lasted longer until the sun sets after the argument with his brother.

deep down, even though youve never met sae, you wished you did just to punch him - for now rin has only grown more distant, whilst your feelings had grown more deeper. like oil and water, you no longer merge together as one, and perhaps this is the last chance to confess before he eventually disappears. growing up is hard, but maybe losing him would be the scariest and hardest part. yet, here you are, still attending all his football matches, waiting for him in the air-conditioned library until the clock ticks to when the school gates closes to find him, waiting for him to come back to you.

flowers. longing and yearning - cameilia and carnation replied back all those cliche love mangas. and so, you saved up for weeks just to buy an overly expensive bouquet - one that seemed out of place with your bags or rin’s everexpanding confession gifts. would it be a rejection, a success? a repeat of the previous year, another retry of last year’s failed confession, just that this time he might just get the idea? hiding the flowers in a separate bag, because certainly this could count as romantic, and youd rather do away with gossips or talks. yet of course, fate strikes again.

“thanks..? its alright to not get gifts for my football matches win though, its nothing major anyways.” and suddenly you take it back. you rather he just thanked you for it platonically. in what world do friends get romantic flowers with ribbons and all sort of decorations for a simple congratulations for a no-name match?! perhaps you two were never meant to be, and this had to be a sign from the gods or something, you concluded. you blinked and laughed it off, your mind spinning with all sort of thoughts - was this his way of rejecting you?! was he truly this clueless or is he trying to let me down?! suddenly all the fantasies and daydreams had fallen flat - this is real life. there is no true school romance, that rhese are feelings left better unsaid as your parents and adults in your life say. teenage love never last, they say - but in this case, they dont work, or at least for you. maybe, your teenage life would be the same mundane, boring ones - filled with just waiting for rin, doing homework, talking with friends, one that is filled with love and normalacy but never the exciting and romantic films you see on tv.

and maybe, just maybe, youve given up on pursuing itoshi rin romantically for the time being. but thats alright, as long as you were friends, youd stay together forever right?

#3 — CONFESSION FOR YOU UNSAID?!

youve lived the rest of your mundane life, completing routines after routines as if its a time loop. maybe, that failure had affected you, brushing off datdreams quickly. growing up meant to be logical, to not blush like a teenage kid, to not linger on hopeless love and dreams - you tell yourself. and rin is still here, like the sun to the earth, always orbiting around you. as long as the world continues to hold you two together as though connected by red strings, itd be alright.

yet, it stings when he tells you about blue lock. its evil, its bitter, its jealousy, its anger that pumps through your very veins. just as rin and you were falling back to back then, where you guys were connected by the hips, to when you had first been enchanted by his star-like eyes. you want to blame the world, the universe for being so cruel. you want to lock yourself, trap yourself in your room, throwing away the key. yet, theres only limited days with itoshi rin, and youd rather die than not be with him until the very end. even if its to the end of your friendship, your dream, your life with you and him together. whether that is to bring him to old arcades where tou two once played, bring him to the old now run-down convenience store where you and him went after school to get lunch, bring him to the mall to take your final photos and lucky charms with him. each moment now even more precipus than previous ones - and suddenly you understand the saying ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’. its love. you know its love, you knew since you were 14 when you gave him the chocolates, you knew since you were 15 when yoi presented him a bouquet, and you know now that youre 16 about to send him off to another world you can never reach.

its selfish when you blurt it out as he was half-way out of your door after your last sleepover. its out of desperation, out of feelings youve kept hidden in an bottle that is now exploding. its impulsive, its unconscious - the way youve just confessed to him that you loved him. “i love you” theres no way to misinterpret that. maybe he’ll tell you theres bo need to be sentimental, that hell be back (you were convinced he wouldnt.), that its cringe. yet, its silence that fills the room and all you wished to do was to run back to your room, to cry into the pillows, to read all those hopeful love mangas.

“.. i hope you meant it.. i love you too.” its anticlimatic, theres no dramatic scene of profession of love the way mangas portray it, yet you think that theres nothing more than you need. its the most itoshi rin (though youve never thought hed ever say love in a context outside of horror movies and games) and yet, its the words that you longed and yearned for for years by now, its the dream youve been daydreaming in class and in bed, its the life yoive envisioned as you look at him from the stands. and perhaps the world has finally answered your prayers, your musings, your complaints.

third’s the charm they say - and you for once agree with those stupid sayings because on your third attempt of confession did you finally get to be with itoshi rin.

#itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #ineedarinsobad #rin.<3

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girlgenius1111 · 1 month ago

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close to you part three

alexia putellas x leila ouahabi x jenni hermoso x readera third installment of the orgy fic: rush by @vixwritesagain [all chapters + all OOYG chapters linked on her masterlist] jenni and leila embarrass their girlfriends. alexia and r being oblivious idiots once more 18+ for discussions of smut

---

The tension was palpable as you sat around the table, Alexia and Jenni occupied with their food and you splitting your time between taking sips of your drink and sharing looks with your girlfriend. No one spoke, which would have been awkward had you not been so wrapped up in trying to stop mentally replaying every sound Alexia made.

What had Jenni been doing in there, and god why couldn’t you just swallow your pride and let Leila drag you in like she’d wanted to?

Too focused on your own stubbornness, and Alexia too busy fretting over just how much you’d heard, both of you missed the wordless conversation being shared by your girlfriends. Nodding once, Jenni leaned back in her chair, resting her hand on the back of Alexia’s possessively. Unconsciously, the midfielder relaxed. That was when Leila struck.

“Ale, did you go on a run while we were gone?” Leila asked.

“Uh… no?” Alexia gave her a questioning look, picking up the glass of water in front of her.

“Oh, well Jenni must have been really good then. You’re walking with a limp.” Leila smiled.

Alexia choked on her water, coughing into her elbow as her face turned red. Jenni gently patted her on the back, a grin rivaling Leila’s on her face. Alexia recovered, glaring at the defender across the table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She snapped, returning to the food in front of her.

“Really?’” Leila teased. “It sounded memorable.”

It wasn’t often that Alexia was rendered speechless, but you couldn’t blame her. She glowered at Leila, her face beat red. You were about to scold your girlfriend, and maybe book her a plane ticket home for the following morning without you, when Jenni chimed in.

“It was memorable. It sounded like you two had fun too. Sounded so pretty together - I wish I could have watched.”

“Jennifer!”

“You could have.” Leila grinned, settling her hand on your thigh under the table. “Maybe we could have been quieter, but she loves when I put my pussy on hers.”

“Leila, I swear to god-”

“We liked hearing. Alexia was so wet-“

“Jenni, I will break up with you-”

‘That’s why she was being so loud? I’ve never heard her like that before.”

“No, it’s because she was riding my cock. It takes a little convincing but she comes the hardest from it, don’t you?”

Nothing either of you could say, no objection you made was stopping your girlfriends from proudly discussing the very lewd details of the past few hours.

You turned your gaze towards Alexia across the table and raised your voice to a ridiculous volume.

“The weather is nice, no?!”

Alexia turned away from Jenni, her hand still attempting to cover the brunette's mouth, even as she replied. “Very nice! I like the heat.”

Leila and Jenni just spoke louder, so you got louder, too.

“Wow. I need to see her-“

“I THINK IT’S GOING TO BE EVEN WARMER TOMORROW,” you shouted.

“Yeah. She likes being held down, but it’s so hot when she starts-“

“I SAW THAT,” Alexia yelled back.

Finally, both Leila and Jenni fell silent, watching the two of you with amused stares. It was silent for a moment, a standoff as you glared right back.

Jenni cleared her throat. “Leila, how did you start taking her ass? I want Ale-”

“I’m going to the bathroom!” Alexia shouted, shoving back from the table and stomping away.

The room once again fell into silence. You could feel your own flushed cheeks when two pairs of eyes fell on them.

“You two are the worst. Stop it!” You hissed, shivering when Leila tightened her hand on your thigh.

“You're awfully rude for someone who just came. Loudly.” Jenni snarked, raising her eyebrows at you.

You clenched your jaw shut, reaching down to fiddle with Leila’s fingers. In truth, it wasn’t so much irritation at them than frustration with the situation.

“I’m just glad someone had sex today. Who knew sunscreen could be such a turn on?” Leila grinned.

“Sunscreen?” Jenni asked, tilting her head.

“Sí. It’s not a type of sex!”

Jenni narrowed her eyes at Leila before tilting her head a fraction. “What does sunscreen have to do with anything?”

“That’s why they were so turned on,” Leila supplied.

Stroking your fingers over Leila’s knuckles, you were almost embarrassed with how turned on it had made you. “Alexia asked me to sunscreen her back.”

“And you said no?”

“What?! No, I said yes. And she was so hot and slippery and I-“

“That’s why she was so worked up?!” Jenni interrupted incredulously. “She asked you to sunscreen her back and you didn’t have sex with her? What is wrong with you?!”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but the creak of the door down the corridor brought slow, quiet footsteps instead. Alexia reappeared, no longer looking flustered. Her face was back to normal, measured and completely expressionless.

“It is cooler out. I am going for a run.” She announced.

Leila opened her mouth, no doubt to make a joke about Alexia exercising after she’d just had a workout, but a sharp kick to her shin had her yelping quietly instead.

Jenni turned to her girlfriend, a guilty look on her face. “I’ll come with you!”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “No, you will not. You can stay here and pick which couch you want to sleep on tonight.”

Jenni’s face fell. Watching Alexia go left a somewhat bitter taste in your mouth; whatever small alliance you’d come to with her just moments ago had evaporated, and she was back to refusing to make eye contact with you. Lost in your thoughts, it took a few tugs of your hand and your name repeated several times before you finally gave Leila your attention.

“Bebé? Do I have to sleep on the couch, too?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want Jenni to get lonely.”

The striker laughed to herself, shaking her head as she got up and began to clear the table. “Ale will last maybe an hour without me in her bed.”

Leila laughed too, pulling your chair closer until she could rest her chin on your shoulder. “I bought you ice cream for dessert. Chocolate, your favorite! No couch for me, right?”

“Chocolate is your favorite, Lei.” You stood up abruptly, leaving your girlfriend with a confused look on her face behind you. Leila would most definitely not be sleeping on the couch, but if you gave in too fast, you’d never escape the teasing.

—

“I’m so bad at this.” You grumbled into the darkness.

Leila’s breath was even where her face was tucked against your neck. For a moment, you thought she must have already fallen asleep. Then, her thumb rubbed against your stomach.

“Not bad, bebé. She just makes you nervous.”

“Sí,” you breathed back, “can’t you do it for me? I know you want to watch.”

Even in her tired state, Leila smiled against your skin. “No. But maybe I can give you some inspiration?”

—

As Jenni predicted, just under an hour of her couch exile lasted before the bedroom door creaked open, and she heard her girlfriend approaching. She sat up happily, smiling even in the dark as the blonde appeared in front of her. Wordlessly, Alexia extended her hand, and pulled the striker to her feet. Jenni followed Alexia back to their bedroom, grinning as she went.

“Stop smiling.” Alexia huffed, though she didn’t let go of Jenni’s hand even as they both slid into bed.

Jenni frowned at her dramatically. “Better?”

Fighting back a smile of her own, Alexia turned the lamp off, immediately rolling over into Jenni’s space. She let the brunette pull her close, arms encircling her comfortingly.

“I’m still mad at you.” Alexia whispered. Jenni chuckled, something Alexia felt more than she heard.

“I know.” The striker replied, gently kissing the crown of her girlfriend’s head.

Jenni always let her be mad. Alexia loved that about her.

—

If you were expecting subtlety, you didn’t know your girlfriend very well. Leila had tried to drag you out of bed with her when she got up, but you only grumbled incoherently and yanked the covers up over your head. With a laugh, the defender kissed the covers where she approximated your head to be and left the room. You were content to go back to sleep for an hour or two, until you heard a loud giggle coming from the kitchen. It was flirty and adorable, and you were out of bed like a shot, realizing Leila was likely making good on her promise to ‘inspire’ you.

Sure enough, once you made it to the kitchen, you found Leila pressed up against Alexia’s back, smiling as she guided the other woman to cut strawberries on the plate in front of her.

“Sí, like that. Now it’s a little heart!” Leila said enthusiastically, resting her chin on the blonde’s shoulder.

Alexia was more relaxed than you’d seen her be this entire trip, and you couldn’t help but feel that it was a result of her being unaware you were in the room. She was completely content with Leila’s arms around her.

You knew it shouldn’t make you jealous. Really, you did. And if anything, you certainly shouldn’t have been jealous of your girlfriend, rather than the girl she was touching.

Leila was smiling at you, a glint in her eye as she pressed her lips to Alexia’s neck. She left a trail of kisses along the soft skin, up and across her jawline. The midfielder continued cutting the strawberries, unbothered by the woman draped across her back.

She finished one all by herself, tilting her neck ever so slightly to the side to give Leila better access, while she looked up with a grin. “Jenni, look!”

“Very nice, amor.” Jenni chuckled, watching closely as Alexia caught sight of you, her face immediately flushing. She went shy again, just like she’d been doing all week, yet she still didn’t seem uncomfortable with Leila’s body on hers.

Alexia hummed quietly, fixing her attention back on the fruit in front of her, as Leila’s hands slid up her body. Your eyes widened as she gently cupped the midfielder’s chest, then sliding back down like she hadn’t done anything at all.

And though a blush still adorned her cheeks, Alexia allowed Leila’s touch to continue, even seeming to lean back into the defender.

That frustration remained at the forefront of your mind as the four of you moved outside. Your girlfriend kept herself within an arm's length of Alexia. Sitting on the same lounger as her, running her hands up and down Alexia’s tanned skin. It was maddening, and it only got worse.

While you sat by yourself on your own chair, your girlfriend continued to try to inspire you, offering to braid Alexia’s hair. You expected the subdued captain to reject this offer, shove Leila away and make some quip about how this wasn’t a preteen’s sleepover. Instead, she quietly agreed.

A pair of goggles hitting you square in the side of the head tore your attention away. Jenni smirked from where she was just peaking over the edge of the pool.

“Are you going to keep staring, or…” She called, nodding to where your girlfriend was working diligently on Alexia’s braids. Leila’s long fingers worked easily through the blonde’s hair, and you shivered, knowing exactly what those hands felt like on your scalp.

As silly as it was, there was something transfixing about watching her build neat little braids, one after the other.

“I don’t understand you.” Jenni added with a sigh, planting her hands on the stone deck and gracefully pulling herself to sit on the edge of the pool.

“What do you mean, Hermoso?” You asked, tearing your eyes away.

Just then, Leila called your name, and your head whipped back comically fast. “Bebè, can you come hold this braid while I get a hair tie?”

Without thinking, you slid the one you had on your wrist off and tossed it over to your girlfriend. You could have sworn you saw Alexia frown, just slightly, but it was gone before you could be sure. Leila returned her full attention to the blonde in front of her, and you looked back at Jenni. The striker pinned you with an icy stare.

“What?” You asked. Jenni just shook her head, something akin to irritation on her face.

“All done! Look!” Leila called excitedly, turning Alexia around so you could get a good look at her braid.

“Pretty. Nicely done, Ouahabi.” Jenni grinned. Apparently, her unknown issue with you didn’t extend to your girlfriend.

“Hey Lei-” You began, intending to ask Leila to braid your hair next.

You were cut off by her. “Ale, your shoulders are so tight! Do you want a massage?”

Leila missed the smile falling from your face, but Jenni didn’t.

“Sí, that would be nice.” She said quietly, stretching out on the lounger so that Leila could straddle her back.

Blinking hard, you got up from your chair, mumbling something about needing a snack even though you’d finished breakfast not twenty minutes ago.

Finally, Leila seemed to understand that you were upset. She looked up at you with concern as you passed, reaching out to catch your hand. “Bebé? Are you okay?”

“Fine.” You snapped, shaking off her hold and stomping into the villa.

You knew you were acting ridiculous. It was just that Leila was paying you no attention, Alexia could barely look at you, and Jenni was being cold, and all of a sudden you felt shockingly alone.

You threw yourself down at the counter, hiding your face in your hands. The door slid open behind you. You expected to feel Leila’s arms wrap around you any moment, or to hear her voice in your ear apologizing followed by her lips on your cheek.

Instead, you remained untouched. After five seconds of waiting, you turned to find that your girlfriend hadn’t been the one to follow you after all.

Jenni stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest. Her stormy expression shouldn’t have made you feel like crying as much as it did.

“What?” You asked again, raising both eyebrows at the striker.

“What!” Jenni scoffed. “What is your problem?”

“My problem?! You’re the one with the problem.”

“No. Don’t you dare. You agree to come on this trip, you stare at my girlfriend, you put sunscreen on her, you make her listen to you have sex, but you can’t even act normal! If you don’t want her, that’s fine. I’ll get over it, Leila will get over it, but giving her mixed signals is mean.”

You stared at her, mouth agape.

Jenni continued, throwing her hands up in the air. “She’s so sad thinking you don’t want her - and she’ll be fine if you don’t - but stop playing games. If you’ve changed your mind just tell us-”

“What makes you think I don’t want her?” You cut in.

The striker just glared at you. “You haven’t flirted. You haven’t touched her any more than she’s asked for. You haven’t tried. Even when she asked you to put your hands on her, you didn’t do anything.”

“Jesus, Jenni! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your girlfriend has been avoiding me like I have an infectious disease. God forbid I give her the space she so clearly wants!”

Jenni stared at you for a moment, before her whole body seemed to relax and suddenly her Cheshire grin spread.

“I really don’t think this is funny.” You seethed, furious that she had the audacity to come in here and shout at you, and then act like everything was suddenly fine.

“You’re both so dumb.” Jenni chuckled, sobering up when you moved to leave the kitchen. She caught your hand, pulling you back in towards her. It was on the tip of your tongue to push her away and argue back, but any affection was welcome given the stone in your stomach. The arms which wrapped around you were familiar. “Not dumb. But you’re both too insecure for being such attractive people.”

“I’m not insecure.” You mumbled, words muffled by Jenni’s shoulder. Even as you spoke, though, a part of you preened at the compliment.

“Maybe just dumb then.” Jenni teased, though you were hardly in a laughing mood. She could feel how still you were, not quite hugging back even though you longed to. “She wants you, cari. She told me the very first day. But she wants you to make the first move.” She pulled away, resting her hands on your shoulders. You looked at her doubtfully. “I swear. Alexia wants you. So badly. You’re all she talks about. She just wants to know you want her, too. Without Leila starting things, for once.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to point out that one way or another, it would always be Leila that started things. Your eyes flicked over Jenni’s shoulder, to where Leila was still working her hands into the muscles of Alexia’s back. The blonde had sunglasses on, but she’d twisted her head. It seemed as though she was staring at the door.

“You’re sure?” You asked.

“Positive.”

“This isn’t some prank where I’m going to go out there and she’s going to reject me and everyone’s going to laugh?”

Jenni did laugh, then schooled her face a little as she turned to look outside too. “No. We’re not like that. And Leila would never let it happen. If she thought something was going to embarrass you, she’d put a stop to it.”

“She embarrassed me at dinner the other night.” You pushed back, folding your arms as the chill of the AC started to get to you.

“Not as badly as I did Ale. She’s still mad at me.”

“You deserve it.”

“Probably,” She admitted with a grin, then stepped behind you.

For a few minutes, you’d thought Jenni had finally matured to adulthood. But then she yanked at your bikini string. The back this time, leaving the fabric hanging from your neck.

“Jenni!” You snapped, pivoting to face her as your crossed arms protected your modesty. “We were being serious!”

“I’m always serious,” she laughed. “Turn around. I’m about to get you laid.”

You stared at her for a few seconds.

“Or you can keep watching Leila on top of her. Whatever works for you.”

You turned away from her once more.

Jenni’s gentle fingers scraped against your back as she picked up the strings again and started tying.

When it took longer than it should have, you shifted your weight. There was nothing else to look at but the scene outside. The ripple of the water, the tan swaths of skin. Leila, admittedly looking less happy than she had before, glancing towards the door every few seconds.

“What’s the plan?” You muttered.

---

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso #leila ouahabi x jenni hermoso x alexia putellas x reader #leila ouahabi x reader #jenni hermoso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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leah-lover · 1 month ago

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Second chances. Alexia putellas x coach!reader.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

summary : the confrontation between alexia and R.

Alexia always had a hold on you. Her stare would often captivate you and suck the air out of each room you were in. being stuck with her in the physio room, her muscular thighs on full display, was your worst nightmare. Her eyes seemed to devour every part of you and yours couldnt shy away from doing the same. There you both were 4 years after that night still looking at each other like nothing mattered in the world but the person in front of you. Your heart made it its purpose to quickly remind you of the gaping hole she left in it. You remembered the amount of tears she drew from your eyes, and the delay she caused to your success and career. You shifted in your seat and looked away from her. You reminded yourself that the person in front of you wasn't the love of your life anymore but the one that destroyed you.

“ You don't know how many times I imagined us talking like this. I planned this speech many times but now that i have to do it i can't recall a word.” she says breaking the silence. Her voice was shaky which wasn't something you were used to. You hardly ever saw alexia nervous and fidgety which was interesting to witness. You didn't say a word though. You kept your composure as you always did and let her speak her mind.

“ uhmm. I am sorry. I know that i fucked up really badly. I shouldn't have acted like that that night. I should have fought for you. Fought for us. I should have reprimanded Irene and done everything in my power to help keep us together but I was a coward. I chose the easy road. You don't know how sorry I am. I regret everything and if I could go back I would stop you from leaving or leave with you.”

You fantasized many times about what alexia would say if she was to apologize. What you dreamt of sounded like what she said but coming from her it didn't sound as satisfying as would have hoped. It only made you angrier. You tried to keep your composer because it was your default setting. Your face was as emotionless as you could have it but your blood was boiling in your veins. You waited for her to add something but she didn't. . she was shaking and her eyes were glued on you.

Realizing that she was done you got up to leave. She quickly hurried to your side. “ So you won't say anything?” she asked, nervousness clear in her voice. “ I said I would hear you out and I did.” you respond with a monotone voice.

“ Please say something.” she pleaded.

“ What do you want me to say? You want me to say that you are forgiven. You are not. You destroyed me and for that I will hate you forever.”

“ You don't mean that.”

“ I don't mean what? The part where I said you destroyed me or the part where I said I hate you.” your voice was undermining and insulting which made her body visibly tense.

“ I was in love with you and you chose you before me. You chose your career before me. You chose your family and friends before me. And what? you think i am sorry and I regret everything would make me forgive you and come back to you.” you voice and body language were cruel. You laughed at her, undermined her presence and belittled her just with your tone. You saw her shrink before your eyes. You didn't mean to or maybe you did. But the image in front of you made your heart ripe.

“ I was dead without you. I couldnt breath, sleep, or eat. I thought that you would come after me and tell me that I am to you worth more than some stupid trophies or a legacy. I thought that you wanted to continue your life with me and that that night was just a mistake But you didn't. You left me alone and unemployed. You ruined me. You broke me. I had to learn how to breathe again. I had to learn how to sleep in my bed alone. I had to train my brain not to think about you and not to try and hold out hope that you wanted me. You made me feel unloved and undeserving of everything.” you saw tears escape her eyes and stain red cheeks.

“ I am stupid. I don't deserve you or a second chance. But I can't help but miss you and need you. All I have is this stupid job and my memories of you. I replay them every night before I go to bed. I replay how my lips felt on yours and how your head felt on my chest. I should have come after you and told you that I love you more than anything but my ambition stood in the way. I thought that my career and the approval of my family would fill the void in my heart but I was wrong. I love you. “

You two stood there with your hearts laid bare. You know how she felt and she knew how you felt.

“ After all this time I love you too alexia.” you took a deep breath and you saw her eyes light up. “ But I can't trust you. I went through so much pain and anger. I don't think that I am capable of moving past it to be with you.” you swiped her tears away with your thumbs and gave her a quick peck on her lips. She didn't fight back, she wanted more but you stepped away from her and left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you tears streamed down your face as you ran away from the hallway.

You were the last one to board the bus. You saw a glimpse of alexia whose head was lying on mapi's shoulder. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks were red and your heart was no longer able to keep your feelings for her dormant. Two voices were screaming at you. One was reminding you of how much you love her and the other reminding you of how much she hurt you. You put on your headphones to try and drown out the noise that tortured you.

Midnight found you awake, the image of alexia’s crying face was burned into your memory. A knock on your door stopped you from cursing yourself for thinking about going back to her. When you opened the door you found Irene in front of you.

“ Can I come in?” she asked. You stepped aside to let her in.

“ I am a jerk.” she stated. “ Yeah you are.” you responded.

“ You haven't done anything to hurt me but I have done everything to hurt you. I was young, jealous, and angry. Everything that happened was on me and it was my fault. And for that I apologize. I knew that night that it would hurt you and get you to leave so I did it. I was a child jealous that her best friend found love and she didn't. I am not excusing my behavior which was wrong. I am giving you a much needed apology.”

“ Thank you.” you respond.

“ alexia loves you. She is deeply in love with you.”

“ Irene, stop.” you interrupt her.

“ She truly loves you and she truly is sorry for everything. She would do anything to be with you again. She was a mess when you left. That's why I didn't want you to take the job. I knew how much she had gone through and how much she still loves you. And when I looked at you I saw that you too still loved her. In an effort to save my friend I was rude to you. Hate me but please try to find the will to forgive her.”

You didn't know what to do with what she told you. Your heart was burning for Alexia and you knew now that hers yearned for you too.

You pick up your phone and look at her contact. Will you forgive her or shut her out again?

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso request #woso smut #alexia x reader #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

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littlefluu · 3 months ago

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𓍯𓂃𓏧 E N H Y P E N F I C R E C S

AUGUST 19th, 2024 RECOMMENDATIONS

WELCOME TO A SMALL LITTLE COLLECTIONS OF RECENT WORKS I ENJOYED (I was really busy with uni so there isn´t that much new material here! For more recommendations check out my main masterlist) ⤷ GO BACK TO THE MAIN ENHYPEN MASTER LIST WITH EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ALL OF THE MEMBERS

love. f. moments where they realize they are in love or when they fall harder than they did before ᝰ fluff, short scenarios, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Maybe in another universe !? by @leaderwon a. enhypen members texts after you pass away ᝰ sad, angsty SMAU, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

LEE HEESUNG

teeth by @gyuuberryy f, sug. you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy. ᝰ enemies to lovers, vampire!heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

talk tomorrow by @soobnny f. drunken confessions ᝰ best friends to lovers, heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

predictable predicament by @timextoxhajima f,s. so you're best friends with the campus hottie who happens to be the quietest one in his group of friends. he's different with you though. ᝰ best friend! heeseung, fluff, smut in the least explicit way .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK JONGSEONG

7:18 AM by @ashtxrie f. jay surprises a very sleepy y/n with breakfast. ᝰ established relationship, pure fluff, heavy domestic content timestamp, jay x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Naturally by @ikeuverse f,s. ★ jay has always been very private about his love life and physical contact in front of his friends, but a comment from his work colleagues made him rethink some things. ᝰ established relationship, fluff, smut, domestic , chef!jay x fem!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

How you get the girl by @jaylver f, a. ★ Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl. ᝰ strangers to frenemies to lovers, fake dating au, college sports au, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining, ice hockey player!jay x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SIM JAEHYUN

Car rides by @jlheon f. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year ᝰ neighbors to lovers, fluff, highschool au .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SOUL SISTERS f. where layla shows how much she cares about the growing life inside you. ᝰ fluff, heavy domestic content, husband!jaeyun x pregnant!reader, .ᐟ₊ ⊹

break the ice by @jaylver f, a. ★ Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss? ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst, ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader.ᐟ₊ ⊹

Midnight train (back to you) by @jaylver f, a. ★ You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love. ᝰ childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn, pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK SUNGHOON

Insatiable by @moonhoures s. your vampire bf suddenly becomes clingy which can only mean he’s hungry or horny . . . or both ᝰ non-idol!au, vampire!au, smut, sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Fatal trouble by @gyuuberryy f. your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go. ᝰ roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au, vampire!sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MS. & MR. President by @jlheon f. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon ᝰ non-idol!au, frenemies to lovers, sunghoon x freader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE by @jaylver f, a. ★ Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that. ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish, ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

RIKI NISHIMURA

supernova by @star-sim f,a,h. riki was the city's top hero, you were the top villain. when your archnemisis pulls up to your apartment late at night, all battered and bruised, you just sighed and took him in. you were a villain, not a monster! ᝰ hero! riki x femvillain! reader, superhero! au, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, a lil bit of angst .ᐟ₊ ⊹

duck by @jlheon f. you want a sonny angel hipper ᝰ Idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader, established relationship, fluff .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MY FAVORITE AUTHORS THIS MONTH @jlheon ★ @jaylver ★ @gyuuberryy

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taurasiluvr · 5 months ago

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WE GOT A DOPE LOVE, WE GOT A BOND THAT THEY SPOKE OF / TWO GUNS WE DON'T GIVE THEM HATERS NO LOVE ── BUECKERS⁵

how you can help palestine part one part two

★ i got a some requests for a last part for my paige fic, so here it is!! ★ "girlyy u shld add another part to ur paige fic where reader finally breaks up w her bf and ends up giving back to paige?? (p receives) queen ur literally feeding us rn🙇🏽‍♀️" /// "and NOW i think you should do a final third part of the paige x reader where reader leaves that bum ass boyfriend and finally gets with paige 😜😜"

⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. homophobia (from ex), arguing, singular physical altercation (if you can even call it that), oral + fingering (r giving), lovey-dovey sex, break-ups.

⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 3.8k

⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p

you and your boyfriend walk hand-in-hand into the crowded gymnasium, paige's jersey clad on your body. as you made your way to the bleachers, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. again, you were wearing paige's jersey, a silent testament to the bond you shared, and you knew it would be noticed by everyone, including your boyfriend.

he glanced at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "you're really supporting her, huh?"

"mhm," you replied, squeezing his hand. "she's important to me, you know that."

he nodded, his expression softening. "yeah sometimes i wish i played basketball so you could support me like you do her," he joked as you gave him a nervous laugh.

the worst part of that was – you kind wish he did, too.

you found a spot in the bleachers, settling in as the players warmed up on the court. the sound of basketballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking against the floor filled the gym. you scanned the court, your eyes quickly finding paige; she looked focused and determined, her movements fluid and confident. you felt your lips curve up into a subconscious smile as you watched her, and it filled you with adoration knowing how much she loved this sport, it made you fall in love with her even more.

as the game began, you cheered along with the rest of the crowd, your excitement growing with each play. paige was on fire (per usual), her skill on full display. you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride every time she made a basket or a crucial play. your boyfriend cheered too, his competitive nature coming out as he got into the game.

at halftime, the score was close, and the tension in the gym was palpable. you turned to your boyfriend, who was animatedly discussing the game with the dad next to him. he seemed to be enjoying himself, and you felt a small sense of relief. maybe things were starting to settle down.

as the second half began, the intensity ramped up. UConn was behind by a few points, and the pressure was on. you watched her closely, her determination evident in every move she made. with just a few minutes left on the clock, she made a play, stealing the ball and driving it down the court for a layup that brought the crowd to its feet.

you jumped up, cheering loudly, your heart pounding with excitement. your boyfriend joined in, his enthusiasm matching yours. as the final buzzer sounded, UConn emerged victorious, the gym erupting in cheers and applause.

you made your way down to the court, weaving through the throngs of celebrating fans. paige spotted you and jogged over, a huge smile on her face. she looked radiant, her eyes shining with triumph.

"my god, that was insane!" you exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug.

"i know!" paige replied, her breath still coming in short gasps from the exertion. she glanced at your boyfriend and gave him a nod.

he smiled, watching the interaction between you two. "you played a hell of a game, never thought women's basketball could be that entertaining."

you cleared your throat, nudging him slightly as you gave paige a sympathetic smile. "babe," you gave him a sigh, earning a shrug from him.

paige laughed, ignoring the comment. "well uh, maybe that's your sign to watch more."

"yeah, maybe."

there was a moment of awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. you felt caught between the two people who meant so much to you, each with their own place in your heart (at least, that was what you were trying to convince yourself).

paige's teammates called her over for a group photo, and she glanced behind her. "aaliyah's boyfriend is hosting an after-party, if you're down," she didn't really acknowledge your boyfriend, her gaze fixed on you.

your lips curved up into a genuine smile as you nodded, and it felt like it was just the two of you for a moment. "yeah, we're down."

"okay, perfect." paige grinned before she turned around toward the team. you watched her go, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions.

your boyfriend squeezed your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. "babe, we have my function tomorrow morning, remember?"

"yeah, we won't stay out too late." your gaze stayed on the blonde before you glanced at your boyfriend, forcing a smile.

he nodded, though his expression remained wary. "okay, just don't want you to be too tired."

the drive to aaliyah's boyfriend's house was filled with a tense silence, your boyfriend focused on the road while you stared out the window, lost in thought. when you arrived, the house was already crowded, music and laughter spilling out into the neighborhood.

you spotted paige as soon as you walked in, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. she waved you over, her smile bright and inviting. "hey! so glad you guys could make it,"

"of course," you replied, returning her smile. "wouldn't miss it."

your boyfriend trailed behind you, glancing around the crowded room. "nice place," he commented, his tone neutral.

paige nodded, her attention shifting to him briefly before returning to you. "yeah, it's pretty great. come on, let's get you some drinks."

as your boyfriend found some of his friends, paige led you to the kitchen where a variety of beverages were spread out on the counter. as you poured yourself a drink, paige leaned in closer, her voice low. "you okay? you seem a little tense."

you gave her a small smile, grateful for her concern. "yeah, just a lot on my mind."

paige's eyes softened, and she gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "i'm here if you wanna talk."

"thanks, p," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you at her touch.

the evening wore on, and you found yourself relaxing more and more as you mingled with friends and enjoyed the party. however, there was an underlying tension that you couldn't quite shake, a constant reminder of the complicated situation you were in.

toward the end of the night, you found yourself alone on the back porch, taking a moment to breathe in the cool night air. paige soon joined you, her presence a calming balm to your nerves.

"needed a break?" she asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

"yeah, just a little overwhelmed," you admitted, staring up at the stars.

paige nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "i get it. tonight's been a lot."

you turned to her, the unspoken tension between you palpable. "paige, you know i... i think that, um..."

paige's attention was fully fixed on you now, her eyes never leaving your face. "you think what?"

before you could finish, the door to the porch opened, and your boyfriend stumbled out, his expression exhausted but he immediately straightened up as he saw how close you and paige were. "hey, there you are. everything okay, what's goin' on?"

you sighed, your frustration bubbling over as you glanced back at him. "yeah," you muttered, annoyance taking over. with a scoff, you shook your head and began walking back into the house.

your boyfriend seemed confused and maybe even a little angry as he glanced toward you and paige. "the fuck is up with your attitude all of a sudden?"

"god, nothing," you retorted, rolling your eyes as you tried to push past him. "get outta my way."

"no! you think i'm fucking stupid?" his voice grew louder, anger seeping into his tone. he blocked your path, his presence imposing.

"just let me through," you insisted, trying to sidestep him.

"you've been acting weird all night, and now i find you out here with her?" he jabbed a finger towards paige, who had been watching the exchange with a concerned expression.

"jesus, you're overreacting!" you snapped, the tension in the air thickening. "it's not what you think-"

"oh, really? cus it sure as hell doesn't look like it," he spat back, his voice rising. he grabbed your arm and pushed you back outside, his grip tight as you let out a yelp.

the force of his grip was jarring, and the sharp yank backward sent you stumbling. your breath caught in your throat as you struggled to regain your balance, the pain from his grip making your arm throb. paige's eyes widened in alarm, and she took a step forward, her voice urgent.

"hey, asshole, let go of her!" paige shouted, her tone steely as she tried to pull you out of your boyfriend's grasp.

his grip tightened around your arm, his eyes locked onto paige's as his face contorted with anger. "don't fucking touch her," he hissed through gritted teeth. "you think you can just waltz in and steal her from me? you're a fuckin' girl and you're over here, corrupting her."

"corrupting her?" paige scoffed, her voice firm, her hands raised defensively. "what is this, the fuckin' 60s? are you kidding me?"

your boyfriend's grip on your arm tightened once more, and he turned to face paige, his eyes flashing with rage. "stay outta of this, you little bitch."

the insult hit you like a physical blow, and you flinched, your heart pounding in your chest. "don't call her that!" you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. "let go of me!"

"or what?" he sneered, his grip still unyielding. "think you can just walk away from me?"

you could feel your anger and frustration reaching a boiling point. "god, just shut up! you're acting like a complete asshole."

"yeah, and who's the one sneaking around with this bitch?" he shot back, his words dripping with venom.

"i told you to not call her that!" you shouted, your voice cracking with emotion.

"or what?" he stepped closer to you, his face twisted in rage. "you gonna leave me for her? is that it?"

before you could respond, paige stepped between you, her gaze locked onto your boyfriend's. "you need to fuck off!"

"oh, so you're her knight in shining armor now?" he sneered as he finally let your arm go with a push, causing you to stumble backward. "fuckin' pathetic. you think you can take her from me? you're just a sad, desperate bitch who can't stand that she'll never want you like she wants me."

paige's jaw clenched, but she didn't move. "i don't need to take her from you. you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

"fuck you," he growled, pushing paige back roughly.

"don't fucking touch her!" you screamed, before getting his face.

the aggression in his actions was the final straw for you. "we are done," you declared, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt.

he turned back to you, his eyes wide with shock. "what?"

"you heard me," you said, stepping away from him. "i'm done with this. i'm done with you, no more breaks no more... no more of this, i'm done."

your boyfriend stepped back, his chest heaving with rage. "you think this is over? you think you can just walk away like this?" he shouted, his voice echoing in the quiet night. "for a girl?!"

paige stepped forward, her expression nothing short of pissed. "yeah, it is. you needa leave her alone, seriously, this shit is getting bad."

he glared at paige, his jaw clenched. "you think you're so tough, don’t you? just wait. you'll see what happens when i get back inside."

"oh yeah? i'm not fucking scared of you, i don't care who you think you are," paige snapped, she'd had enough of this guy the moment she met him – this was her last straw. "but what you're not gonna do, is step into my fucking place and threaten me or my girl."

"your girl? you gotta me fuckin' with me," he let out a bitter laugh as he took a menacing step toward paige, his eyes blazing with fury.

paige didn't flinch, her stance firm and unyielding. "yeah, my girl," she said, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. "and if you think i'm just gonna stand by and let you grab her like that, you're fucking crazy."

he sneered, his face contorting with contempt. "you really think she wants you? you're just a pathetic rebound, a distraction."

paige's eyes narrowed, her fists clenching at her sides. "this isn't about what you think. this is about you being an abusive asshole who can't handle the fact that she deserves better."

the words hit like a slap, and he recoiled, his face twisted with rage and denial. "you're fucking delusional," he spat. "she'll come crawling back to me. you'll see."

"not if i have anything to say about it," paige retorted, stepping forward to close the distance between them. "now get the fuck out."

the air thick with unspoken threats and barely contained anger. you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling torn and overwhelmed. this confrontation had been brewing for a long time, and now it was finally coming to a head.

he glanced at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of betrayal and desperation. "is this what you want? to be with her?" he demanded, his voice breaking with emotion.

you took a deep breath, your hands trembling. "i wanna be happy. i want to feel safe. and after tonight, i-i don't feel that with you."

for a moment, the silence was deafening, the only sound the distant hum of the party still going on inside. your boyfriend stared at you, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief, before finally turning on his heel and storming back into the house. the door slammed shut behind him with a resounding bang, the noise echoing in the quiet night.

you let out a shuddering breath, your knees feeling weak. paige wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "it's okay," she murmured, her voice soothing. "he's gone."

you clung to paige, the reality of what had just happened crashing down on you. the fear, the anger, the confusion – it all seemed so overwhelming.

"he'd... he's never grabbed me like that before," you murmured, your voice trembling as you clung to her. "never put a hand on me, ever."

paige held you tighter, her hand gently rubbing your back. "i'm so sorry you had to go through that," she whispered. "now you know his true colors,"

you buried your face in her shoulder, the tears finally breaking free. "don't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choked with emotion. "i don't know if i can handle this."

paige pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and looking into your eyes. "you're stronger than you think," she said softly. "and you're not alone. i'm here for you, always."

you nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. "thank you, p," you whispered.

she pulled you into a tight hug, her warmth and strength surrounding you. "you don't have to thank me," she murmured. "i care about you. and i won't let anyone hurt you, especially a 5"8 frat guy,"

you let out a tearful laugh, shaking your head as your grip tightened around her.

she gave you a small, reassuring smile. "come on, let's get you home and away from all this shit,"

you nodded again, allowing her to guide you back into the house. the noise of the party seemed louder now, a stark contrast to the quiet tension of the porch. as you walked through the crowd, you felt the weight of curious eyes on you, but paige's steady presence beside you gave you the strength to keep moving.

⠀ ── ⠀

"i'm sorry," you buried your face in paige's neck, the warmth of her bed comforting. the events of the night had left you emotionally drained, but here, wrapped in paige's embrace, you felt a sense of safety.

paige's hand gently stroked your back, her touch soothing. "you don't have to apologize," she said softly. "none of this is your fault, i promise."

you sighed, the tears still threatening to spill. "i just feel so stupid. i should have seen the signs, should have ended it sooner. i should have listened to everyone when they said he was toxic,"

paige pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "hey, don't blame yourself," she said firmly. "it's not easy to see things clearly when you're in the middle of it. what's important is that you're safe now."

you nodded, grateful for her understanding. "thank you for being there," you whispered. "don't know what would have done without you tonight."

"you don't have to think about what could've happened," paige's expression softened, and she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "i'll always be here for you," she promised.

you felt a surge of warmth at her words, the sincerity in her voice reassuring. you looked up at the blonde, the warmth in her eyes making you feel fuzzy inside. "i have to find a way to repay you for everything."

"nah, you don't have to, princess." her lips curved into a smile. "you know i woulda killed him right then and there if you weren't there, baby."

the petname made your face flush as you smiled up at paige, your heart beginning to race. "not just for tonight... i meant all the times you fucked me good,"

paige let out a breathless at the vulgarity in your words, her own face flushing as she licked her lips as they curved into a smirk. "really, princess? you're gonna make me blush," she teased, her voice dropping to a playful whisper.

"mhm," you batted your eyelashes up at her, making paige let out a laugh. your hands travelled to her naked stomach, your hand flush against it. "let me make it up to you, p,"

paige's breath hitched as your hands moved against her stomach, your touch sending shivers through her body. her eyes darkened with desire as she looked down at you, her smirk widening. "oh, baby," she murmured, her voice thick with anticipation. "what do you have in mind?"

you grinned, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her collarbone, your lips trailing a path of fire down her skin. "think you deserve a little pampering," you whispered against her skin, your hands sliding lower, teasing the edge of her waistband.

paige let out a low moan, her hands tangling in your hair as she arched into your touch. "fuck, you drive me crazy," she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

you continued your slow exploration, your lips and hands working in tandem to elicit more sounds of pleasure from her. you could feel the heat building between you, the air thick with anticipation. "relax and let me take care of you," you murmured, your voice soothing.

paige's eyes fluttered shut, her breath coming in shallow gasps as you continued your ministrations. your heart raced at her sounds, a surge of desire flooding through you. your moved with purpose, paige's hands roamed over your back, her nails digging into your skin as she struggled to hold on.

you moved downward, finding your place in between her legs. her hand was weaving through your hair, her eyes fixed on your face. you moved her underwear to the side as you licked a stripe against slick pussy, earning a low groan from the blonde.

"fuck, keep lookin' at me like that," paige let out a breathless laugh as she gripped your head.

you looked up at paige, maintaining eye contact as your tongue moved against her. her breath hitched, and her grip on your hair tightened. "god, you're so good at this," she moaned, her voice breaking with pleasure.

encouraged by her reaction, you continued your movements, your tongue and fingers working perfectly to bring her to the edge. the taste of her arousal and the sight of her coming undone because of you sent waves of desire coursing through your body.

paige's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she struggled to maintain control. "don't stop, baby," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "fuck yeah, princess, oh fuck,"

you had no intention of stopping, your focus solely on her and the pleasure you were giving her. you increased your pace, your efforts rewarded by the way her hips bucked against you and the cries of pleasure that escaped her lips.

she was close, you could feel it in the way her body tensed and the desperate sounds she made. you began flickering your tongue against her clit, quickly pushing her over the edge. paige's entire body shuddered, her back arching off the bed as she came with a loud, guttural groan.

you kept going, drawing out her orgasm for as long as possible until she finally collapsed back onto the bed, her body limp and trembling. you moved back up to her, pressing soft kisses along her stomach and chest as she caught her breath.

"fuck, that was incredible," paige managed to say, her voice hoarse. she pulled you up to her, capturing your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss. "you're incredible."

you smiled against her lips, your heart swelling with pride and affection. "love making you feel good," you whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

paige's eyes softened, and she cupped your face in her hands. "and i love you," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "more than anything."

"i love you too, p."

paige's eyes glistened with a mix of love and contentment, and she pulled you into another tender embrace. you nestled into her warmth, feeling a sense of peace wash over you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"let's just stay like this for a while," you murmured, your voice muffled against her skin.

"absolutely," Paige whispered back, her hand gently stroking your hair. "just you and me, no one else."

the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside fading into insignificance. in that moment, it felt like nothing could touch you, like you were both cocooned in a bubble of safety and love.

after a while, Paige shifted slightly, her hand trailing down your arm. "how about we get some sleep?" she suggested softly. "its been a long night."

you nodded, feeling the exhaustion of the evening catching up with you. "yeah, that sounds good."

paige helped you settle into the bed, her movements gentle and caring. she tucked the blanket around you, then slid in beside you, pulling you close once more. you could feel her heartbeat against your back, a steady, comforting rhythm that lulled you into a sense of security.

"goodnight, princess," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"goodnight, p," you replied, your eyes already drifting shut.

as you lay there, on the cusp of sleep, you felt a profound sense of gratefulness. despite the turmoil, you knew you had someone by your side who truly cared for you, someone who would stand by you no matter what.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

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wandanatrules · 5 months ago

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Hi there!! I saw that you were taking request so I thought I’d put one in! I’m obsessed with a rich/Silver fox Nat x innocent reader. Silver fox Nat is definitely manipulative and possessive and is obsessed with R. Maybe for the fic nat just had a really stressful day and gets home late and needs to take her anger out on R? Maybe g!p too? Up to you! definitely super kinky

Try To Keep Me

hey idk if this does your request justice, but I hope you enjoy!! not proofread

word count: 1.5k

pairing: CEO silver fox beefy g!p Nat x housewife fem reader

warnings: smut, nat has a penis, cnc, angst, cursing, slapping, arguing, name calling, breeding kink, lactation kink, (let me know if I miss any )

You were done waiting on her. She told you that she was done with the broken promises, and the worst part was that you believed her. When you agreed to be her housewife you thought it would be less cooking, cleaning, housework and more wife.

It seems as though all you do is cook the meals that she demands, yet she never actually eats, do her laundry, clean her house, and be used as her personal fucktoy. She was never like this when you guys were dating. You used to have fun together, she used to look at you with that special twinkle in her eyes, while she held your hands and showered you with praises. You couldn’t remember the last time she even complimented you on something other than your body.

Yet you stayed, it’s not like she didn’t love you, I mean she paid the bills, you never wanted for anything. And the sex. The sex was incredible. She would take you whenever she wanted and it was always hot and passionate. You just wished she would bring romance back into the relationship and make you feel wanted.

You figured Natasha didn’t try anymore because she got too confident that you would never leave. She’s every woman’s dream being a millionaire CEO, who is exceptionally sexy, with her long red hair and the muscular body that she spends hours upholding everyday in the gym. But that didn’t matter to you, you missed the Natasha she was when you were dating, your gentle Natty who would pursue you each and every day, take you on thoughtful dates and cuddle you to sleep every night. You were going to teach her that she needs to put in effort in order to keep you.

”Babe, i’m home.” she says, walking through the front door throwing her stuff to the side, expecting you to pick it up later. “Where are you?” she wondered why you weren’t in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up like you normally were.

Walking through the house to look for you, she noticed the light was on in the closet of the master bedroom. “What are you doing, babe?” She asked with a furrowed brow as she saw you haphazardly throwing clothes into bags.

”Packing!” You said with a tight lip, pacing around the room trying to get your stuff together.

”Baby, stop! What’s going on? Where do you think you are going?” She said with an amused smirk.

“What the hell do you think is so funny! Everyday you come in here and treat me like i’m your fucking sex slave that’s just here to please you and be your maid! I am packing my bags and staying with my sister.”, You said while trying to push past her before she grabbed you by your wrist to stop you and turn you to face her.

“You’re not gonna leave me baby, you know I love you. Daddy is just so stressed out from work, that it’s hard for me to do all the romantic things you love to do.” She says while holding you by the waist.

“It’s just that I want you to try, there are tons of women that would beg to take me out and buy me flowers, so I think I am going to go find one of them.” You said trying to break away before feeling a harsh sting on your cheek.

“You are such a slut, any excuse to whore yourself out to everyone. I bet this bag is filled with skimpy thongs and tight dresses for you to escapade around the town in.” She says as she rips the bag out of your hands and grabs both of your hands behind your back and leads you to the bed.

Pushing you face down on the bed, she rips your house dress down as you try to wriggle from her hold and smiles when she sees that you are without underwear.

“Look at how pretty you are baby, I can’t believe you thought you were gonna leave me. You are mine, all the panties in that bag are only for me to see. Do you understand!” She says as she harshly slaps your ass. “You know maybe if I fill you up and make you pregnant you’ll be happier with my long hours, having someone to keep you company.

“Come here.”, She says pulling you up into all fours, before swiping her fingers through your pussy. “You’re so wet for me baby. Is the thought of me getting you pregnant turning you on?”

“Yes daddy. Please fuck me, i’m sorry.”, You said while humping back into her trying to reach back and unbutton her dress slacks.

She swats your hands and moves to unbutton her pants and pull them along with her underwear down and tosses them across the room. Her 9 inch length pops out and hits your cunt and starts to harden, she then begins to jerk herself off in order to fully harden.

Before slipping in she spreads your ass with hands on both cheeks and licks all throughout your cunt, up and down taking your clit between her teeth. “My goodness baby, I can never get over how good you taste.”, She says after pulling away and planting kisses all over your ass and cunt, licking and sucking on the skin of your cheeks in order to leave bruises.

“God baby you make me so hard I just have to fuck you.”, She says after pulling away from your ass and lining her cock up with your entrance. With one strong thrust she bottoms out causing you to yelp. Picking up the pace, she grips your hips and with a steady speed she continues to ram into you from behind.

“Oh Natty, please it feels so good. You fuck me so well, I can’t take it i’m gonna cum.”, You say humping back onto her trying to match her pace.

“Oh not yet baby, you better hold it until I fill you up with my kids.” She husked into your ear, while reaching down to play with your clit. That combined with the unmatched stamina she has from her daily workouts, is making it impossible to hold out.

”Please, please, please, Nat please I’m gonna cum!”

“Okay baby, don’t worry I got you. I’m right there with you, so cum when you’re ready.” She grunts out in your ear while violently ramming into you trying to catch her high. “Uhh, there you go. Take it all, baby take all my cum.” She releases her load into your cunt, causing you to come right after her. Pulling out she flips you over and pushes you onto your back, fingering the oozing cum back into you to make sure it sticks.

Pulling her fingers out of your cunt, she licks them and then kisses up your body. Starting between your thighs, she kisses a trail up your stomach, stopping when reaching your chest. “You’re gonna look so sexy as the mother of my children.”, She says while pulling your nipple into her hot mouth, sucking and taking the other one between her skilled fingers, pulling and twisting. “I can’t wait for these tits to be filled with your sweet milk, for me to drink.”

“You know you can’t just fuck me and expect me to forget what i’m upset about!”, You say in between moans as she continues her assault on your boobs.

”Okay, yeah you’re right baby. Tell me, what were you upset about?”, She says, lifting her head from your breasts, looking face to face, with a smirk.

“No, i’m being serious. Of course I want us to have kids, but I don’t want to feel like a single mother. I want a wife that cares about her kids and spends family time with them and her wife. Please, Nat, I hate that I have to beg you to romance me and make me feel like I mean something to you!” You sit up and cover yourself with the blanket, while you wait for her to reply.

“Yes I understand baby, come here.” She says while pulling you into her lap. “I know i’m not the most present with you, and it seems like I only care about your body when I am stressed out from work, but I don’t. You are the love of my life, and I couldn’t live without you. I am so sorry that I have been so lousy at showing you that. I promise that I will try everyday to show you how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I don’t even know what I was thinking, not treating you like the goddess you are.” She said, grabbing you by the face and placing a kiss on your mouth.

You move to straddle her hips and grind down on her length, “Okay, baby if that’s how you feel I think we should keep going if we are gonna start trying to have a family.”, You say, leaning in to kiss her again.

#natasha romanoff smut #beefy!nat #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #g!p natasha #wlw smut #wlw #lesbian

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screeching-bunny · 1 year ago

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may i request some yan!butler/maid hcs? ur fics/hcs r like my lifeline ALSO love love the name Ligma (srry for the poor grammar, english is my first language/hj)

Yandere! Butler Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: LIGMA BALLZ. Anyways thanks for liking my name it’s so fucking awesome isn’t it?

🌟 Yandere! Butler who’s a year older than you and has been serving you ever since your teenage years. He’s dedicated and willing to spend the rest of his life serving you as long as it means being by your side forever. He first becomes enamored by you when you happen to come by the shop he was working at the time. He was enchanted by you and after finding out that you were a noble, he began grooming himself in order to be the perfect servant for you. When the position of being an attendant opened up in your manor, he quickly signed up for it. Yandere! Butler made sure to perform his duties as perfectly and diligently as possible while in that position. It was all to ensure that he would be promoted to be personal butler.

🌟 Yandere! Butler was not able to communicate with you when he was first hired to your manor due to being too low of a rank. He could only stare at you longingly from afar and wish that he could be closer to you. Yandere! Butler during this time period would discreetly follow you around wherever you went. Although he wasn’t allowed to talk to you, he still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life, like some secret protector. While doing this he’s definitely stolen a few of your possessions and stored them for his own personal use.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is so enthralled when he finally gets promoted to being your butler. Finally!!! After all these years he can finally talk and touch his beloved person! He’s so excited that he can’t stop shaking with joy when he hears the news. Every waking moment of his life from this point in time will belong to you and only you. He is willing to do anything you ask of him. No matter how small or difficult the task is, he will make sure to complete it as if his life depended on it. As long as it gets you to look and notice him then it is all worth it.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is only loyal towards you. He is not willing to take orders from anyone but you, even if it’s from your own family members. How dare they try to take away his time and thoughts of you away from him? Have they no shame?! Yandere! Butler would definitely be willing to fight anyone who dares to insult you. He doesn’t care if they are young or elderly, his hands are rated E for everyone. His love language is words of affection, so get ready to hear a barrage of compliments every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not around, he’s still singing praises about you much to the displeasure of literally everyone else.

Yandere! Butler: “Did you see them today! I swear they get more dashing every time I see them. I wonder if they’ll let me touch their–”

Random Maid: (crying) “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!!! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!!!”

🌟 Yandere! Butler is in charge of your everyday routine. He’s the one planning all of your meals and makes them personally. He will get upset if anyone but him makes you food because he makes sure to plan it perfectly in order to fit your nutritional needs. He makes sure to take care of you as if you were porcelain glass. His movements with you are light and delicate almost as if he were scared that you would break if he were ever too rough with you. He loves to hear you talk about your day and ramble on about meaningless things. It’s somewhat therapeutic to him and it’s like listening to an asmr podcast in his eyes. He takes in everything that you say and a majority of times gives good advice when you need it. If you ever fall in love, never tell him. He will either gut that person alive or give you the worst possible love advice you have ever heard.

“This guy I met at the bakery was super attractive. How do you think I should approach him?”

Yandere! Butler: (screaming on the inside) “You should tell him that he’s gross. I heard nowadays guys find it attractive when people play hard to get.”

🌟 Yandere! Butler legitimately thinks that you are the most perfect person in the universe and that no one deserves you, including himself. He doesn’t care that you may not ever love him, just allow him to stay by your side all of eternity and he’ll be happy. You could tear him apart or take everything he owns and he’d still be loyal toward you. When he signed that contract, he did not only just promise to be your butler but also made a heartfelt vow that everything he does will be for your greater good. He loves the look of a smile on your face and would do anything to keep it there. Murder is not beneath him, if anyone dares to make you cry then he won’t hold back. Whether it be poison, decapitation, drowning, and etc. He’s willing to do it for you, all in the name of love.

🌟 Yandere! Butler takes care of any task that you deem stressful and overwhelmed by. If he sees any type of distraught look on your face he is taking over. Has that business deal been causing you to lose sleep? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’ll make sure to handle everything. Are you getting a migraine while doing some paperwork? Well then, wait right there as he brews you some tea and he’ll get right in on working on it. If he ever sees you sneeze and sniffle then he is going straight mama bear mode. He’ll force you to stay in bed even if you aren't really sick and he won’t listen to any of your protests. No job is a headache to him when it involves you in the picture. So why don’t you just sit back and relax so that he can just take care of you.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere butler

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lowkeyren · 3 months ago

Text

TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME!

in which — sunday, realizing he fell head over heels for you, tries to push you away, only to have his efforts backfire, which leads to a heated confession.

pairing — sunday x gn!reader

wc: 2.3k, arranged marriage, hurt/comfort, woooo tension!!!, takes place before penacony quests, sunday fumbles everyone cook him rn, apology scene ib maxton hall, reblogs r much appreciated! from event req: here + art by @/hanahanayart on x

the first thing sunday noticed about you was how you consistently avoided meeting his gaze, how your eyes seemed to wander, frequently darting to the ground.

even now, as you’re sitting across the table from him, you’re fidgeting with your hands, fingers nervously twisting the small charm on your bracelet. your eyes flit from the patterned tablecloth to the rim of your teacup, never settling on him for more than a moment.

you’re tense, he notes.

as you both go through the marriage contract, he finds himself distracted by the way your eyebrows furrow in concentration, and how your fingers fidget with the edges of the document; a soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he observes your gestures.

the moment you notice him staring however, you stiffen and abruptly shift in your seat. he watches as the flush on your cheeks grows more pronounced, and your words come out in awkward stammers as you try to continue the subject.

though he catches on, quickly averting his gaze to spare you any further embarrassment. the corner of his mouth twitches as he shakes his head slightly.

right, you must be the type to be easily swayed by looks and status.

of course he’s aware of his own charm, and even more so, the effect he has on others —evident by the multitude of pursuers vying for his hand in marriage.

but something is different about you, different enough to intrigue him, different enough to distinguish you from the rest of the crowd, different and compelling enough for him to entertain the idea of marrying you.

sunday is a busy man.

his schedule is packed with a myriad of tasks ranging from managing various negotiations to organizing the upcoming charmony festival. his desk is cluttered with intricate sketches of the festival’s layouts, post-it notes with scribbled annotations, stacks of detailed itineraries, and reminders of… you.

you have a knack for surprising sunday with unique gifts that inevitably end up on his desk.

for instance, the delicate keychain that’s shaped like a tiny halo dangling just of reach, or the hand-knitted coaster he sets his mug on, or a handwritten note reminding him to take a break with a small doodle of him in the corner, or the sleek pen he’s using right now, personalised just for him (he complained about pens having grips that were too slippery or uncomfortable once.)

somehow, you never fail to invade his thoughts at every given chance. the worst part? he actually started looking forward to your presence —much to his dismay.

he doesn't know when exactly it started, but he’s certain “it’s all your fault” because he finds himself checking his phone much more frequently, eagerly awaiting your messages. he’s also become attuned to your daily visits, recognizing the distinct sound of your footsteps as they approach his office. heck he even finds himself rearranging his schedule to make sure he’s free during your usual visit time.

you plague his mind to the extent that it distracts him, where he finds himself unable to focus on his work without your voice suddenly echoing in his thoughts; the sound of your infectious laughter, the warmth of your smile like a siren’s call, and the endearing stutter in your words when you say his name —which all seems to linger and sway with every thought.

sunday fears that he may have loved you more than he will ever allow himself to.

sunday gazes at his reflection in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. his brows are furrowed, and a deep sigh escapes him as he tries to calm his turbulent thoughts, gripping the edge of the sink for support.

his current dishevelled appearance bears a striking resemblance to that of a fallen angel; stunningly attractive, yet marred by a decadent edge that whispers of turpitude.

as the head of the oak family, he shoulders countless responsibilities and maintains a careful distance from those around him. so is it wrong when he feels a twinge of insult, almost as if it's shameful to be powerless to resist you, when you entered his life with a mere marriage contract but seamlessly wove yourself into the deepest, darkest corners of his heart?

“sunday, are you okay? you’ve been in there for a while!” your voice echoes from the other side of the door, tinged with worry and care.

he’s confounded by your unwavering concern, unable to fathom as to why you continue to pour your heart into him, even as he remains cold and indifferent. he appears detached to you, often aloof and devoid of any intimacy —yet you never seem to mind.

you make him want to tear down the carefully constructed barriers he’s built around his heart and hold you close. even now as you soothe his back and gently preen his wings, he finds himself lost in thought, contemplating the possibility of abandoning his old ways and allowing himself to be vulnerable with you.

but he thinks you don't have to be so insistent on winning him over, really. because he has already belonged to you in a way that’s intrinsic, a devotion deadlier than hell.

perhaps he just hasn't come to accept it yet.

walking along the streets of golden hour, sunday is painfully aware of the stare you fixate on his figure, even though you try to be discreet about it. when his hand lightly grazes against yours, you freeze momentarily, your body tensing before you quickly adjust your pace to match his long strides, positioning yourself at his side.

you notice that his face is etched with a grim expression, lips drawn tight; he appears visibly stressed, a noticeable contrast to his usual calm demeanor.

“ahem…” you clear your throat, “y’know,” you begin, your voice soft with an attempt at comfort, “whenever i feel upset, i've found that treating myself to something nice to eat always helps lift my spirits.”

your words hang in the air as he remains silent, his gaze fixed ahead; undeterred, you continue speaking.

“there’s a new restaurant robin told me about yesterday, would you—”

“—stop talking.”

his words seem to have escaped louder than intended, drawing the attention of bystanders who now stop to observe the scene. murmurs ripple through the crowd as they exchange curious glances.

“oh… well i just wanted t—”

“just, leave me alone for once,” he interrupts sharply, each syllable from his lips like a drop of acid, eroding the walls of your heart until nothing is left but a hollow ache.

a flash of regret crosses his face the moment he sees your face drop. he watches in silence as you nod curtly before pushing your way through the gathering crowd, the haunting image of your hurt expression only further exacerbates the stress he’s already grappling with.

you gaze at the chat screen with sunday’s name, your fingers hesitantly hovering over the send button; his words from a few days ago echo relentlessly in your head, replaying over and over again.

you sigh before putting your phone down. he probably doesn’t want you bothering him, right?

in that case, even if he was 'annoyed' by you, why did he have to say it in front of everyone? sure he was cold to you at times, but you thought he cared for you at least a little. and if he intended to push you away, why accept your gifts in the first place?

regardless, you’re not about to forgive him so easily. your dignity demands that you maintain your distance for now, not merely out of pride but also to give him a taste of his own medicine.

sunday hasn’t received your usual “good morning” text today… the day before, and the week before. actually, he hasn’t seen you at all either. (but robin has, she mentioned that she noticed you seemed a bit down. when she asked about it, though, you didn’t give her a clear answer.)

his office feels eerily quiet without your timely “interruptions”; his desk, once cluttered with your little gifts and notes, now sits noticeably emptier. most importantly, your absence only serves to distract him more than your presence ever did.

he has lost count of the times he’s run his hand through his hair, a familiar gesture of frustration that has become all too common lately. what he said that day, was purely “in the heat of the moment”, a lapse into uncharacteristic harshness he now deeply regrets.

he envisions the hurt in your eyes, the way your expression crumpled as his words pierced the air, the weight of his own words gnaws at him, and he feels a pang of guilt so sharp it almost physically hurts.

he may have been reserved with his affection, but he never intended for his words to wound you so deeply. ultimately, he was only trying to guard the vulnerability he rarely reveals; but now, his facade has crumbled. and even he can no longer convince himself of the cold indifference he once tried to project.

it’s a bitter irony that he thinks you shouldn’t try so hard to win him over, when he tries just as hard to resist you.

his efforts would have paid off,

—if only his heart is as cold as he pretends it is.

he hears your footsteps for the first time in two weeks.

as you enter, he tries to mask the relief on his face, but his eyes betray him, softening as they lock onto you; his pulse quickens, and he rises from his desk almost instinctively. as usual, you keep your eyes averted, but today, the familiar shyness has been replaced by a palpable tension that he can’t ignore.

you set the stack of documents on his desk before turning to leave in silence, but his hand reaches out and gently grasps your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

“—wait, please,” his voice trembles.

you turn around, finally meeting his gaze. the steady rhythm of his heart quickens into an erratic flutter, almost like a caged dove desperate to escape.

“i apologise… for what happened that day.”

“a simple ‘sorry’ would suffice for the embarrassment you put me through, but it doesn’t erase the sting of your words or the way you belittle my feelings,” your voice quivers slightly.

you shake your head and let out a frustrated sigh. “listen, i’m not a pawn for you to play with. just tell me how you really feel, not what you think i want to hear.”

you pause, searching his face for any sign of genuine emotion, but all you find is the same frustrating distance. “i mean it, i’m truly sorry, please let m—”

“you can’t just say you're sorry and expect everything to be fine." you scoff and wrench your hand away from his grasp with a sharp jerk, “cut the crap, you’re seriously driving me insane!”

there's a pause before he responds. “im driving you insane?” his eyes narrow, his expression growing intense as he steps closer. with each step he takes towards you, you retreat until your back hits the edge of a bookshelf, the cool wood pressing against you.

“but do you know what you do to me?” his hair tumbles messily and hangs over his forehead. “do you think it’s easy for me to keep my composure when everything you do makes it harder for me to hold it together?”

his hands, which were previously clenched at his sides, now grip the edges of the bookshelf on either side of you, closing the space between you even further.

“maybe i’ve been distant,” his voice, though strained, holds a desperate edge. “but it’s not because i don’t care, it’s because i'm terrified of what i might feel if i let myself get too close.”

“it’s because you drive me insane —and i can’t get enough of it.”

you pause, taking in his raw confession before burying your face into his shoulder; a damp patch forming on his clothes. “but it’s not fair, sunday.” your fingers dig into his shoulder, but he couldn’t care less.

“you can’t push me away and then pull me back in with your words.” your words are muffled; he tenderly runs his hand along your back, his soothing touch calming you down.

he sighs before saying, “i know i’m sorry, please give me some time, i’ll make things right.”

“promise?” you ask, lifting your gaze to meet his. he gently cups your cheek with his hand, his thumb softly caressing your skin.

he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “i promise.”

and this time, he lets himself sink in your embrace, holding you tighter than before. it’s then he realises just how much he had missed out on.

extra:

“darling...”

“hm?” you gently stroke his wings, smoothing out the feathers with delicate care.

his wings flutter slightly under your gentle hands, softly rustling as you brush through the layers of plumage.

“why were you delivering documents to me that day?” he asks, voice laden with curiosity.

you let out a soft chuckle as you recall the nervous expressions of the staff on that day when sunday walked into his office. his wings had fluttered with every tentative step someone took toward him, a clear sign of his agitation.

“i don’t know,” you reply with a hint of amusement. “maybe none of your staff dared to come near you, so they asked for my help.”

he subconsciously leans into your touch, a soft smile playing on his lips. “well i’m grateful you came by,” he murmurs, though he can’t quite hide the way his wings quiver in response to your tender caresses.

“it turns out, i got more than just a set of documents that day."

you raise an eyebrow playfully. "oh? and what might that be?"

he leans in closer, his forehead gently touching yours, “a reminder of how much i need you."

MASTERLIST ; EVENT M.LIST

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