#and one of the most known ways to find your way back is to wear all of your clothing inside out
Text
↳ EVENT 03. Sebastian (Date Night)
Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader
Genre: Smut 18+
WC: 2,779
Warnings: established relationship, cock humping, cum in pants. thats it <3
Prompt(s): 03 — date night
Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: im loving how soft everyone in this event has been, it's allowed me to stretch my fluff writing muscles a little which i desperately needed <3 don't get me wrong, im just as excited to get to the rougher requests too hehe! but this is a nice change of pace from my usual stuff, so thank you for letting me indulge in this type of writing!
A weekly tradition, one he's kept with him for as long as he can remember. Even when he was too young to drink, his mom would drag him to the saloon every weekend just like how everyone else in town would inevitably show up soon after, the kids getting free reign of the pool room to play in while the adults enjoyed the end of the week together, surrounded by too tall glasses of beer he was always mesmerized by. And years later, he still visits to play with his friends— only he's of legal drinking age now and able to appreciate the taste of alcohol appropriately, which adds a fresh spin to the lifelong pool nights as it were.
And, of course, there's you too. The new addition to his routine, married and homely. A welcomed plus one at that, not just by him, but by his friends too. A small little get together with everyone that quite often doubles as a date night; especially considering there's fuck all else to do in the lazy Pelican Town other than get drunk outside or get high at home. And he does enough of the latter with you already, so he likes to think that these saloon date nights count for something, right?
It's a chance for you to get all dressed up and pretty at the very least! Not that he doesn't think that you're always the prettiest girl in the world, but he knows that he puts in a little more effort himself when it comes to attending the weekly function, and it's nice to see what sort of outfit you'll end up in too. Because you look so pretty in them all, he'd be hard pressed to pick a favourite. Giddily awaiting his chance to politely ogle you from across the bar, a secret hidden game shared amongst lovers.
"Seb!" He hears you yell from the bathroom, and a smile automatically finds its way to his lips. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, all ready to go, he yells back an eager yeah babe?
Footsteps answer his question, and he awaits your arrival with bated breath. Expecting you to be done dressing by now, maybe needing some help with a difficult to reach zip or something? But what he doesn't expect is... Well, God, look at you...
Oh, that's gotta be his favourite outfit on you after all. Wasn't so hard to pick now, was it? The sight of you entering the bedroom, cute confused look on your face, wearing what he can see is only his old hoodie and a pair of underwear is such a pretty view. He bites his tongue as you saunter closer, else he's liable to spill filthy secrets about just how long he's yearned to see you wear exactly that, eyes half lidded the moment his gaze lands on your bare thighs. You could wear anything in the world, the most expensive dress known to man, the prettiest pare of heels in the world, and this would still be his favourite. Barefoot and underdressed, how domesticated you appear, hair and face all done up nicely, dressed to the nines in his hand me downs. There's not a prettier sight, he suddenly decides. Wanting to clutch his chest from how in love he is with you wearing his hoodie, an unmistakeable thirst present in how his hands itch to haul you on top of him so he can love on you a little. Genuinely pained from how badly he wants you in such a swift moment, his pretty little wife.
Still, he hopes you plan on wearing more than just that out to the saloon; a tight tug of jealousy wrapping around his fluttering heart. Except, well, maybe he really doesn't. You look perfect as is, all smiles and wifely in his beloved clothing. His beloved wearing his beloved, he'd rather you stay just as you are. But the thought of others interjecting themselves into such a personal moment for him is annoying, has him already wanting to shield you away from prying eyes despite remaining safe at home.
"Do you know where my uh... My— y'know?" You vaguely gesture towards your bare thighs with your words, and his eyebrows raise in faux suspicion. You always get so frazzled before leaving for the saloon, something about the excitement of the night to come getting to you, and though he truly believes it's innocently adorable how you fret, he can't help but wet his lips at the way you draw attention to your pretty legs right in front of him.
"Your... pants?" He questions back, tutting quietly to himself when you enthusiastically nod yes!
Of course he knows where they are— you had thrown them to him just before getting in the bathroom to assumedly finish getting ready. And like the polite husband he is, he took them without any issue. Quietly holding on to your possessions like he's been taught to, because he enjoys helping you out without need for questioning. "Sure do." He plainly states, reaching behind his back to retrieve the thrown away bottoms only to waggle them in front of you— just out of reach!
The sigh of relief you let out has him chuckling, light laughter filling the air as you ramble on about being so ditzy sometimes, but he thinks it's cute. Loves being your metaphorical knight in shining armour when you come seeking his help for the easiest of things; simply because you've forgotten again. It's nice to be of use to you.
Buuuut, on the other hand, it's just as much being your bully, too. There is intimacy in the moment where your eyes go wide as he tugs the clothing a little farther away, a silent encouragement for you to keep coming, just a little closer. The soft padding of your bare feet on the old creaky floorboards of the farm house rings in his ears as you pout prettily at him, almost bashfully, and he considers it a blessing to see you this exposed and vulnerable up close. "Ah-ah." He teases, extending his arm as high up as possible and rendering your pants inaccessible, a sneaky smirk matching his taunting tone. "I think you should leave just like this," He wiggles around, escaping your attempts to take hold of your bottoms with ease, because he knows your tactics well by now. This is not the first time he's teased you like this. "What d'ya think, babe?"
"I can't, Seb! It's too cold, hence the hoodie!" You huff cutely, and by God does he wanna kiss your lips all better. Cock quietly twitching in his pants as you take his playful attitude well, leaking a little precum for you as you tug on the hoodie strings enough for him in your demonstration of how cold you really feel to be able to see that you wear it just like him: as in, with nothing else on underneath.
He briefly wonders if you can feel the heat coming off of him, big arms ready to cuddle you up against his toned chest in an effort to share his warmth with your apparent shivering self. But you answer his question swiftly when you take to climbing on top of him, his arms immediately wrapping around you as a sharp gasp escapes him— the feeling of your knee brushing against his cock knocking the wind out of him, and still he cares more for your safety than the embarrassing fact that just seeing you in his hoodie has him rock hard already.
Tense pause follows, frozen in place with his strong arms keeping you stable as you rock preciously on his lap. God knows where your clothes have gone, because they were immediately tossed aside the moment he thought you might fall, favouring your safety above all else. And then, without a second though, he blurts out a rushed "Sorry— I, it's just..." Before he buries his head against your chest, taking a shaky inhale to try and collect his thoughts, but with your body practically skin tight to his from how snugly he holds you, cock rubbing inadvertently against your leg, the scent of you mixing with the old musk of his worn hoodie— it was a mistake to tease you from the get go. Only resulting in riling himself up enough to have him biting down on his bottom lip to stave off the primal need to buck his hips against literally any part of you like some sort of horny teen; the things you still do to him. Maybe it'd be understandable if he was acting this way back in the beginning of your relationship, and yet...
"You look good in that." He sighs into you, emphasis on the good to make sure you understand the weight of your actions tonight, curling further into you and leaning back on the bed, safely dragging you down with him and letting go just so he can see how you look above him. "Should be a sin, honestly." He laughs with you, noticing the soft blush on your cheeks prompted by his open honesty.
It's not so bad to admit to such degeneracy, right? Cock nestled firmly between your legs, his hands coming up to stroke gentle lines up and down the fat of your thighs lovingly. Would that he could keep you here all night to himself, dying to show you just how much he loves the minimal fit the best way he knows how. But one look at the clock denies him such pleasures, a heavy sigh escaping him as he notices that he should have left with you five minutes ago.
"C'mon," he pats your ass fondly, blowing some hair out of his face as he half sits up, leaning his weight on one arm while his legs still yet hang off the edge of the bed. "We should get going, once we find your— ah, fuck— babe—!"
Mid sentence, you effectively shut him up with a simple movement. Just a small rock forward, nothing too serious. But fuck does it feel great having you take control like that, his eyes flickering up to your face only to see it scrunched up similarly to his own. Tense, expectant. He holds his breath for a second or two, reclaiming a spot on your back as one arm wraps possessively around it, the other still holding him up.
"Or— We could stay here, if y'want?" He offers, but rather than waiting for a response, he slowly guides you into more movement. Pushing lightly on your back to help you hump forward, and removing the weight of his hand to watch you slide back down his lap. Knowing that you're depending on him for stability when your own hands take root on his shoulders is nice, strokes his ego about as well as your barely clothed cunt strokes his cock off right now. And he figures he's got his answer when you bite your lip so seductively that he has to roll his cock up in tandem with you, literally forced into helping you get off on his lap because instinct begs him to please his wife.
It's just that he's so in love with all the small details, y'know? Like how his hoodie fits you better than it ever has him, how it falls from your frame so prettily as you hover above him, his hand gripping the back of the fabric a little tighter so it showcases your frame just that much better for his leering eyes. The little hah's and seb's your pretty lips whine for him as he helps you ride back and forth on his fat cock, the way your brows furrow in concentration, trying desperately to feel the full weight of his hidden cock, cloth barrier providing enough stimulation to rub nicely against your scantily clad clit, but he knows that frustrated sob all too well. He's fucked it out of you enough times before to know that you need more— but babe, you're already running late.
"C'mere." He prompts you with a head tilt, the moment your face gets close enough to his own he courteously kisses you. Short and sweet, a quick peck more than anything, before your greed overtakes you and you push your hips down into him with more vulgar intent, leaving his mouth wide open in a silent gasp of pleasure for you to take advantage of. He'd never complain at the feeling of your tongue running along his own, his grip tightening on the old hoodie you adorn as a means to display some semblance of restraint, but every drop of shared saliva he's forced to swallow in hopes of more has his head dizzy with desire. A great need welling in his tummy to help you get off, desperate to have you use him for your own benefit like the pretty princess you are to him.
He returns the fervour readily, impishly nibbling down on your lower lip before you do the same back, charming him with a simple smile as he leans in for more kisses. All the while his hips continue to buck up for you, fucking forward when you stroke down, and vice versa when he helps your ride closer to him, drawing his hips down so that his tightly concealed cock almost mimics catching on your pretty hole. The shuffling sound of his jeans fill the room to match the squeak of the bed, and he welcomes every lewd moan and suck you have to offer his needy lips.
"Feels s'fuckin' good, babe—" He slurs truthfully when taking a breather from the heated kiss, vision hazy with how good you look riding him like this. And the fact that he's close already from just a minor amount of petting is a testament to how much he just adores you, he thinks, so there's no room for shame in his pervert thoughts when you push him back down onto the bed, his back cradled gently by the sheets below. And the addition of your open palms on his rapidly rising and falling chest as his lungs struggle to keep up with how fucking hot his wife is when you know what you want only adds to the tight feeling in his core. Balls taut under your relentless humping of his cock, head thrown back with barely there control.
He only wishes he could have whipped it out in time to really feel how soaked your pretty cunt must be, gliding up and down his red hot length as you start to shake on top of him.
Which is perfect, really, because he doesn't think he'd be able to last much longer at this rate either. Saloon well forgotten about when he's got the prettiest girl alive on top of him, riding him so well that he's about to stain his jeans white with how your hips snap up and down his tip, unsure who the main culprit is of the growing wet spot on his bottoms is— but that's hot. Unashamedly yearning for each other as your nails dig into his chest, your thighs tightening at his sides as you pinpoint the exactly location needed to help trigger your orgasm and then—
"That's it, that's my girl—" He manages to force out before he's cumming with you, mostly due to the sight of his hoodie sleeve getting suckled on as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the sickening contrast between how fucking cute you are and that fact that you're cumming all over his nice jeans is too much to handle. After all, he's but a simple man. And when his wife starts to moan his name around the makeshift hoodie gag, he can't help but to shoot his load against his underwear. Cock throbbing under your soaked little cunt as if he were actually filling you up— God he wishes he was, hands digging into your hips as he pushes you against his spurting length to help milk the remainder of seed out.
Just for you.
And he holds you there until he's done, only releasing his grip on you once his body stops tensing and he remembers how to breathe again, a dry half laugh crawling up his throat as you continue to shake for him.
"Better than the usual date night, right?" He muses out loud, pulling you in for a tight cuddle when you join in on his breathless laughter. Hid friends can wait, at least until he's able to find your clothes again. And, a new pair of jeans for himself.
#500 event!#i like this one its nice n soft#PRAYING FOR NO MAJOR MISTAKES THIS TIME BUT WHO KNOWS LOL#sdv smut#stardew valley smut#sdv sebastian smut#sebastian smut#stardew valley sebastian smut
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
✮ tags ; gn!reader, sock(?) fetish...? it's like foot fetish adjacent i guess and but she is wearing frilly socks, dirty talk, established relationship, implicit nsfw but nothing happens, 18+
✮ wc ; 1.4k (WTF LOL)
✮ a/n ; don't mind me. going through something. this is miserably self-indulgent but it's ochako so i figured you've guessed that
Ochako would never applaud your subtlety.
If she's playing devils advocate, she'd say that you're not usually trying to be very subtle anyway. Between the two of you, she's the shy one. Most of your firsts have been as a result of your personality - sufficiently anti-social but smug and forthcoming when you need to be.
She was the one to coax you into actually asking her out, since you weren't sure she'd be happy with someone like you. But the confessing and kissing and having sex are all a result of your brusque honesty and inability to keep your thoughts to yourself.
Usually, if there's something you want, you'll just ask her. She'll get on your case out of embarrassment often enough - but she loves you and she loves being praised. If there's some particularly perverted fantasy you want to act out with her, well... she can do it with a little bribing.
You're not much for hints, but you are good at hiding things. Usually. You managed to plan an anniversary trip completely in advance even with her hectic hero schedule which is something to be commended.
But it's rare, in any case, to see you be uncertain about something. It's not like you just stare at her and not say anything. She'll challenge you about that tendency often and you always smirk so sly and say what you think.
She's never really seen you act like this. She doesn't know what to make of it.
She thinks she would've known by now if you had some kind of foot fetish at least.
You've been staring at her legs all day to start with, but she noticed about an hour ago that your eyes kept drifting to her feet. You've had sex enough times for her to know what you like and you've never really shown any special appreciation towards them other than a kiss or rub. It's tender and intimate, but it doesn't feel rooted in the lust of a fetish.
It's the fifth or sixth time in the last hour you've looked over the edge of your laptop screen and traced her legs. It's hard to notice when you've been doing it so often.
"What are you staring so hard at?"
You startle at the confrontation, even though you weren't engrossed in your work. It's subtle, your eyes widening just a touch before going back to the screen unfocused.
"Uh," You sound...awkward. And a little nervous. It's a little unusual for her, since you're a difficult person to truly embarrass. "Nothing really."
She pouts at you. "You're a bad liar. You've looked at me so many times today. At my feet," She says, leaning back on the couch with her legs completely spread. You do it again and look away just as quickly. "Did you gain a foot fetish over night?"
When you don't respond right way, her eyes open wide. She looks at you as you turn your head - suddenly sheepish. "...Did you really?"
You shake your head, trying to find the words to explain. You open your mouth only to close it again, rubbing your temple as if finding the words is stressing you out.
Now she's really confused.
"It's not a foot fetish, necessarily? It has to do with," You swallow something in the back of your throat. "...with what you're wearing. I guess?"
"What I'm wearing?" She looks down her legs and looks at the socks she's wearing - brand new and frilly. All white lace bunched at the cuff and white cotton down to the toes with a little pink bow on the back, She lifts her legs up and points her foot out. "These?"
Your face flushes like a deer caught in headlights and Ochako feels herself jolt in surprise before a smile breaks out on her face. It's hard to hold in her laughter, though she's not laughing at you as much as she is your reaction.
"Don't laugh at me,"
"I'm not, I'm not," She assures, giggling to herself. "It's just... of all the perverted stuff you ask me to do, this is what gets you?"
You cover your face partially with your hand, forcing yourself not to look down or around. "It's a little weird even for me."
She hums. "I don't think it's weird," Slowly, she pulls her knees up close to her chest, arms hugging her legs glancing down at her feet "I'm just not sure what you like about it."
You stare again, at her legs then at her feet. You're a distance away but you scoot in a little closer - your hands reaching out just far enough to touch the frill around the cuff. Your eyes go lidded, pressing the lacy material between your fingers.
"It's pretty." You say first. There's a shift in the air that makes her breath hitch though you haven't said or implied anything lewd at all. Really haven't touched her either, which makes her blush. You have the effect on her, or something. "It's girly and cute and looks nice on you. Plus you have toned legs so it suits you. I like the way they match with your pajamas, too."
The sudden wave of praise makes Ochako shiver. She buries her face in her arms, frowning - skin prickling with heat. "Jeez. You're so simple."
She moves herself. Instead of her seat opposite the couch, she crawls down to where you sit on the floor and pushes the coffee table away from you. Barely glancing at your laptop, she shuts it and sits in front of you instead - occupying the space between you suddenly. You glance at her, surprised, before laugh again.
She leans back on her palms, pulling her legs up and placing both of her socked feet on your chest. Her back is supported only by the sturdy chestnut table she moved out of the way to sit. Your hand rests on her calves - right where her ankle extends. Your thumb rubs the bare skin. Her face grows hotter, air thick with tension.
"You have more to say, right?" A bid for attention. You nod your head. "Then say it,"
"It's kind of dirty," You hum. Ochako can feel her heart rate start to tick up as your hand slides down to be over the tops of her feet. You look down at where she's placed them on your chest so affectionately she can already feel the dull pulse start between her legs. "But I always think about what they look like when they're the last things left on you."
She makes a face at you. You crook your neck to kiss just the outside, right at the toe of her socks. It makes her blush more than she expects and that makes you laugh. Your voice is thick, genuine desire making her want to keen a little. She wants you spoil her, but you already know that.
"Like," You pretend to think, locking eyes with her. She doesn't know if she could get more red, but she feels she does. "If I were to strip you down to everything but these, that'd look really lewd right? It's like that."
"Is that what you want to do?"
You nod at her easily. "Seeing you bent over the side of the couch , on the tips of your toes. Or maybe laying on your stomach with your legs up so I can fuck you more properly. It's a nice image, I thought."
She pouts at you, almost perpetually - shoving a foot against your cheek as she does. You laugh at her as she does.
"You're such a pervert."
"Sorry." Your voice is warm and tender but not really all that apologetic. She huffs, turning your head to one side.
"It can't be helped, then." She says, one eyes closed and cheeky. You laugh at her good-naturedly.
"What a good girl you are, Ochako-chan,"
She feels her heart flutter, positioning herself to sit on her knees so she can kiss you. Her hands support her in front, arms wrapped around your neck as she flutters her lashes. "The best?"
You hum, pressing a hot kiss to her jaw. "The best. Let me see more of you, okay?"
"Okay," She huffs, a little annoyed by how easy she is. "I don't mind keeping the socks on."
"Good girl." You praise again, throaty and just barely thick. "My very good girl."
Ochako doesn't mind your lack of subtlety, she thinks. The throbbing between her legs is enough to prove she likes when you're very, very forward.
#ochako x reader#bnha x reader#this isn't smut really but its nt fluff either fdbfjskd#writing tag#feet cw#i feel insane and this was inevitable
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
I wanna write about a yandere neighborhood inspired by filipino myths and supernatural creatures.
Maybe if I have the energy to write again hm...
#imagine a yandere tikbalang. lmaooo you're never getting back to civilization with that guy#for context tikbalang is a half man-half horse but in a minotaur type of way#theyre commonly known for leading humans astray in the woods#and one of the most known ways to find your way back is to wear all of your clothing inside out#all clothing. even underwear#i had to get my information clarified by my mom lol
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.
In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"
"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."
It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"
In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."
Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.
***
In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.
***
The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.
***
By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"
I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"
She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."
"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.
When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.
***
By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.
***
Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.
1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Neighbor
Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)
Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.
There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.
Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.
His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.
She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.
He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.
The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.
And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.
But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.
The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.
For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.
He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.
That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.
So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?
John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.
He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.
It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.
The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.
“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.
“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”
John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.
If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.
“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.
“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.
“Get out.”
Oh.
John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.
Good fucking girl.
“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.
“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”
For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.
There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.
And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.
The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.
John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.
There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’
He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”
Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.
She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.
It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.
The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.
Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.
She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.
John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.
Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.
John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.
The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.
He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.
Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.
So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.
He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.
“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.
Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.
It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.
She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.
Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.
“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.
“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”
Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.
She doesn’t.
In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.
John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.
They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.
It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.
“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.
“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.
“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.
Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.
By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.
She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.
The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.
Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.
He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.
He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.
There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.
The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.
The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.
“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.
Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.
“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”
He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.
“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.
Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.
“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.
Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.
The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.
His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.
As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.
Well. That simply won’t do.
The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.
He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”
“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.
To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.
“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”
Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.
He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.
It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.
But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.
She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.
Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.
More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.
“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.
“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.
He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.
“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.
He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.
He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.
Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.
Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.
“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.
He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.
“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”
Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.
“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.
The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.
A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.
As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.
“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.
“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.
He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.
The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.
“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.
“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.
His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.
She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.
Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.
Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.
His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.
“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.
“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”
Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.
“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.
She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.
“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.
“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.
She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.
It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.
It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”
He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.
Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.
Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.
John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.
“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.
“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.
“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”
He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.
John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.
He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.
Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.
And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.
He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.
Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.
“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”
“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”
“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”
The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…
Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.
“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”
“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“
“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”
“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”
“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”
“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”
“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”
“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”
Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.
“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”
The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.
John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.
But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.
The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.
Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.
She’s awake.
“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.
She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.
“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.
She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”
It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.
Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.
Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.
He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
#ocaptainchallenge#john price x reader#captain john price#price x reader#cod x reader#x reader#implied plus size reader#take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty#but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning#also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :)#my writing
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
fratboy!geto
cw: college au, masturbation, smut, love confessions, miscommunication
fratboy!Suguru who’s in the most popular frat and on the football team only because his best friend and local campus manwhore, Gojo Satorou, is the captain and head of the frat
Suguru had sworn he knew almost every girl on campus from seeing them enter Gojo’s room at least once but he has no idea who you are when you’re paired together for a Psych research project
“Are you new here? Haven’t seen you in this class before.” And he’d know that you’ve taken this class for 2 semesters if he ever bothered to come to class not hungover.
He pretty much forgets about you after that until Satorou starts eyeing you up in the hall on their daily walk to class and he looks at you, actually looks at you and the frilly dress you’re wearing with your necklace tucked in the same way it was when he talked to you in class.
Suguru doesn’t know what happened to him and why he feels the sudden urge to stake some claim over you. “Hey, we still on to work on our thing at your place right?”
Except, you never had any plans to work on your project but when Suguru grins at you, how could you refuse?
fratboy!Suguru who shows up to your dorm late as hell, still in his football jersey from training, panting with his hair slicked down to his face with sweat. If it were anyone else, he would’ve just skipped the meeting entirely but he thinks he might just have a crush on you.
“What’re you some kinda slut? Why d’ya have a pair of panties like that?” he shamelessly says and points out your lacy thong that you had left out on your bed. He thinks it’s adorable the way you scramble to hide the pink material but he’s already engraved the image into his head.
He doesn’t do much studying or any kind of work (you should’ve known) and somehow weasels his way into your bed.
He’s a great fuck: sweaty toned abs pressing against the back of your thighs as he bends your knees into your chest to drill his thick cock into you. “Hngh Suguru- I can’t take it-“ you’re clawing at his arm and gasping from the stretch.
“You can take it,” he grunts, “C’mon be good for me and fucking take it.”
He’s so big you almost think you’re going to die— die from how good he’s fucking you. You can feel him in your tummy, his fat leaky tip pressing against your cervix as he jackhammers his hips into you with wet plapping sounds as his balls slap against your ass.
fratboy!Suguru who has an almost perfect attendance record this semester because he comes to class just to see you. He's sillier than you would have imagined-- do all football players play footsies under the table?
No, Suguru usually leaves these stuff to Satorou but he loves the way your eyes crinkle up in delight when he makes you giggle.
He chats you up every time you have class, brings you sickly sweet pastries because he doesn’t know what else you’d like and for the first time in years, Suguru feels a connection.
You still get a little flustered when he talks to you because why is he still talking to you when you've already submitted your assignment and he's gotten into your pants?
fratboy!Suguru who finds himself rushing to put in one last word with you after class. He had this all planned out but all he manages is “You coming to the game later?” with a sheepish grin.
And funny enough it’s your first time going to one of these games since you enrolled.
When they win, Geto surprisingly comes running over to you in the front row of the stands, pausing when he realizes he was leaning up for a kiss. He hugs you instead, grinning widely and looking handsome as ever as he pulls you flush to his chest.
It’s perfect until Satorou appears behind him and slaps a hand on his shoulder in that boyish way, sporting his signature toothy smile.
“Is this your girl or something? You’re gonna miss the celebration party.”
“Nah just....a friend,” he clears his throat, “See you tomorrow, ‘kay?”
fratboy!Suguru who ends up leaving the party early because things just don't seem fun when you're not around anymore.
He indulges himself silly and waits til his body is hot with need before heading up to his room to wait off the alcohol.
Suguru finds himself butt-naked, beefy thighs spread wide on his bed as he jerks his throbbing cock and thinks about you. You and your pretty face.
He spreads his pre over his fat tip with his thumb, moaning lowly at the thought of how your fingers would feel wrapped around him. He bites his lip as he thinks about it: your hands would shake as you wrapped around his girth but you'd manage and your small fingers would squeeze and pump his cock expertly.
With a few more lazy twists of his fist around his cock and a strained buck of his hips, Suguru groans out your name and cums in thick, hot spurts all over his chest.
fratboy!Suguru who feels ashamed and acts as if it never happened when he sees you in class the next day. He sits next to you and talks about the usual frat-party shenanigans like you’re just friends.
Because you are just friends, right?
Suguru’s attitude makes you want to curl into a ball and disappear. He makes you feel like a dumb little girl. Why did you think the hot footballer would take you seriously?
fratboy!Suguru who definitely has a huge crush on you and finally works up the courage to ask you out. It’s a shocker but he’s only ever had one girlfriend before and that was in high school and the girl tried to fuck Satorou (who refused).
He gets to class early to wait for you in your usual seats and he’s practically bouncing in anticipation at seeing you. He thinks about how pretty you look when you scrunch your nose in concentration and his cock stirs in his pants.
fratboy!Suguru who spent the whole class on edge and too worried to take notes because you never showed up. He runs faster than he ever has on the field to get to your door and he might’ve broken the door down if you had let him pound it a little longer.
“What? Oh, hi.”
“Holy shit- Where have you been?” he rasps.
He's pushing past you and letting himself in un-invited, burly shoulders shoving you away from the doorway with ease. "Is there something you need?" your words crunch on their way out.
For the first time since freshman year, he finds himself fumbling for his words. "Well yeah- I uh, wanted to tell you something."
Suguru can see the tick in your brow and he thinks it's the first time he's ever seen you get angry.
"I like you," he blurts, loudly and stupidly like he's never talked to a girl before," I like you a lot and I was wondering-"
He doesn't get anymore words in after his embarrassing little confession because you're already leaning up on your tippy-toes to kiss him deeply, small hands coming up to wrap around his neck.
fratboy!Suguru who realises that he didn't kiss you the last time y'all had sex so no wonder you thought it was just a quick fuck to him.
He makes sure to make up for it. That night, Suguru's mouth touches almost every intimate part of your body. He's nothing like how rough he was before. He kisses your inner-thighs and eats your pussy like a man starved, slurping and pulling you down against his face so his tongue can get as far as possible inside you.
He kisses you sloppy after too, your cum still fresh on his tongue and his face still covered in your slick.
Geto has never been this nervous about sex before. He bumps the tip of his cock clumsily against your clit, veiny length throbbing at the sound of your shocked squeal.
He kisses your ankle, spreads your legs wide so he can get a good view of where his cock sinks into your tight cunt and your clit twitches with want. He thinks you're so sexy-- he could cum just like this without moving an inch.
But he doesn't. He steadies his breath and angles his hips to hit your sweet spot, groaning every time you moan from the sensation and clench around his cock.
fratboy!Suguru who kisses your forehead when you wake up in the morning to being pressed against his firm chest, now with the title of his girlfriend.
#geto suguru#suguru geto#jjk geto#geto smut#geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#getou suguru#suguru geto smut#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#suguru getou x reader#jjk suguru#jjk getou#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fem reader#ns4w#ella🌬#geto suguru imagines
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Something you paid for
Fernando Alonso x Reader
Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.
Word count: 5.7k
Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(
I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.
So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.
After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.
A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.
Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.
You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.
A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.
He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes.
You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.
You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.
“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”
“Is she a gold digger, really?”
“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”
“Has anyone warned Fernando?”
“Everyone.”
You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.
You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.
When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.
“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.
“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”
“Even two,” he joked.
You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.
“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”
You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.
In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.
After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.
“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.
You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.
Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.
When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.
“Dear, can we get the tab please?”
“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”
Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.
“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”
“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”
“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.
“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”
You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.
You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.
Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.
When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.
Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.
“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”
He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.
“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.
“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.
“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.
“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.
“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”
Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?
“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”
Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.
“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”
You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.
“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”
“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”
His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.
“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”
“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?
“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.
“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”
He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.
“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”
You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.
“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?
“Fernando.”
“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.
You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.
Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well?
Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.
What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?
You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.
After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.
It was time to fix it.
Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.
“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.
“I didn’t sleep.”
He paused, looking at your face.
“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”
“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.
“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”
He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.
“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.
“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”
“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”
“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.
“I’m serious, Fernando.”
“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”
“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”
“You took them.”
“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”
“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”
You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.
“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”
“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”
“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.
“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”
“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.
“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”
In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.
“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”
“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”
You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.
“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off.
Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.
You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.
You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.
Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.
You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.
He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.
The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.
-
Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.
“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.
“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.
“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”
“No- no- I guess we broke up.”
“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.
“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand.
Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.
“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.
“What rumors?” George paused.
“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.
“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.
“I might have implied that I agree with that.”
“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”
“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”
“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.
“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”
Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.
“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.
“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.
“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”
“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”
Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.
Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.
Home didn’t feel like home without you.
In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.
You had returned every single thing.
And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.
It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.
-
While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.
You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.
Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind.
“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”
After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.
“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.
“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.
“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”
Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.
“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.
“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.
“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.
“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”
Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.
With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.
One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.
“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.
“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.
There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”
You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.
“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.
“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”
You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.
“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”
He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.
“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.
“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”
You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.
“Come back home with me, princesa.”
At that, you took a step back.
“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”
“What?”
“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.
“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.
“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.
“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”
He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.
And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend.
Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.
You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.
“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.
You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.
“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”
“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”
He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.
As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company.
“What do we do about all your gifts?”
“Give them away,” you shrugged.
“Can I convince you to take it back?”
“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.
“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”
You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.
“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”
“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.
“You won’t.”
Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1#formula 1#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso#Spotify
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
when you get me alone, it’s so simple
pairing luke castellan x fem! child of aphrodite! reader
synopsis while luke is known for making people’s heads turn at camp, you finally give them a reason to stare after learning how much everyone seems to want him
warnings implied sexual content, descriptions of a make out session
author’s notes happy valentine’s day everyone!! the voices in my head were louder than usual, so i figured we could all use a sweet treat today!! mwah!! i hope y’all enjoy these headcanons
On a particularly slow day, the Aphrodite, Athena, Apollo, and Hermes kids decide to spend their free time around the lake. In a glimpse, Luke can be seen laughing with Chris. A radiant smile is plastered upon his lips while he takes in the sight of you. In the distance, Annabeth sits with Grover on a towel, letting her toes wiggle into the warm earth. She watches the water intently, making sure none of her siblings are in any imminent danger when the giggles from Apollo kids, Sadie and Caroline, drown out her thoughts.
“Gods, what I’d give to be in his arms right now.” Annabeth’s ears can’t help but pick up on the conversation taking place beside her. “It’s no surprise he’s taken. But you’d think as a Hermes kid, he’d go for someone more like…us.” Sadie sighs.
Grover leans in closer to Annabeth, his interest piquing when she rolls her eyes. He fears that the daughter of Athena is going to give them a piece of her mind when she stands, but Annabeth merely picks up the frisbee that lands near her feet. She throws it back to where it came from and sits back down to hear Caroline encouraging Sadie, “Come on, it’s only a matter of time before you’ll get your chance. The Aphrodite charm has to wear off eventually. I mean, it always does.”
This time, Grover can’t stop her from turning to them. “Look, you don’t know how things seem to work around here, so I’m going to explain something to you.”
“What Annabeth means to say is that-” The satyr attempts to soothe the situation, but she cuts him off amidst her stubbornness.
“Now, I know not all the Aphrodite kids are palatable, but Y/N is easily the sweetest one I’ve ever known. And there’s a real reason as to why Luke is so in love with her. But I guess you’ll never find that reason for yourselves if you continue to act like this at camp.” This effectively humbles Sadie and Caroline, who mumble to each other while they make their leave.
As if on cue, you walk up to Grover and Annabeth. You’re laughing with a Hermes kid that soon leaves to join the game of frisbee, but it dies down when you notice Annabeth’s hardened stare. You place a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?”
Grover stands and hands over your towel while insisting it’s nothing. But Annabeth cuts Grover off again to explain, “Sadie and Caroline were saying things about you…and Luke.” You understand what she’s trying to imply and give her a squeeze.
It was no secret that Luke was well admired among his peers. Most of the time, it isn’t even an issue, but there were campers who thought they could change the course of your relationship every now and then.
Sadie and Caroline easily fall under that category, seeing as they completely ignored your existence when Luke decided to take you with him during their initial tour around camp…then there was the time Caroline pretended to lose her way at camp as an excuse to get Luke away from you and alone with her. And just two weeks ago, Sadie feigned hopelessness during a sword skills session. As the instructor, it was Luke’s job to adjust her form. However, it was glaringly obvious the Apollo girl had an ulterior motive, especially when she threw a snarky smile in your direction when she thought you weren’t looking.
“Oh…You don’t have to worry about that, Annie. I can handle myself just fine.” You reassure Annabeth to the best of your ability. She nods and stands to settle herself into your side.
In your peripheral vision, Luke is jogging over to you with his shirt in hand. You don’t miss the way Sadie and Caroline ogle at the thin layer of sheen coating his flexing muscles and the lines running down Luke’s back that aren’t actually sparring scars, despite what you tell the curious kids that help him out in the infirmary. You smile when he pats Annabeth’s arm and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Hey, is it time to head back already?” He asks, putting his shirt on as Annabeth checks her watch.
She huffs, “Unfortunately. We should get going if we don’t want to be late. I still have to grab my dagger.”
It’s a comfortable walk back, and when you reach the Athena cabin, Annabeth bids you two goodbye and runs inside. Luke’s hand is loosely intertwined with yours as you lead him to the Aphrodite cabin. He raises his eyebrows, asking, “Did you need something from your cabin? I thought you were working on archery right now.”
You push the door open, sheepishly admitting, “I am, but I was actually thinking of skipping out on lessons today.”
Luke’s tone is suddenly laced with concern, “Are you okay? Did something happen at the lake?” He drops your hand to check you over, but his touch doesn’t stray far from your waist to prevent you from moving away. But the gesture is welcomed and you take a step forward, a shy smile peeking through the corners of your lips.
His worry for you falters, mirroring your love struck expression, “Oh,” Luke pinches your side. You shove his chest with a shriek. “You’re awful.” He tells you, but he’s already got a hand tracing lightly over your cheek.
Your gaze switches from his dark eyes down to his lips, “You love me.” and that’s all it takes for Luke to dip down his head and meet you halfway. Your hands reach down under his shirt, feeling the warmth radiating from his toned torso. You bite down on his lower lip, and you know you’ve sent Luke’s head spinning when he lets out a short whimper. He attempts to deepen the kiss, but you pull away before he gets the chance.
Your eyes flutter open, whispering, “Do you want to skip lessons with me?”
Luke’s lips are lingering above yours when he responds, “Did you even have to ask?” and pulls you onto your bed. He settles his back against the wall and hums in content when you begin to pepper pecks on his jawline.
After a moment, you pretend to move off of him, “I don’t know…you were pretty excited for combat training earlier. Maybe I should just let you go.”
In retaliation, Luke’s blunt nails dig into your waist, “Don’t you dare.”
A warmth flutters through your stomach when you hear the desperation in his voice. Your fingers itch to tangle themselves in Luke’s ravenous curls, lightly pulling so he can look up at you. A deceptively innocent smile paints your lips and you don’t skip a beat to get him back on you.
Heavy breaths. Discarded shirts. Whispered promises. This is how you spend the next hour in between your skipped lessons and the nightly bonfire. It’s nice, but you know it’s your cue to take a step back when the crowd of kids crawling outside the cabin becomes heavily audible.
You’re still on Luke’s lap when you say, “You look so pretty like this.” Your eyes flicker from his own to his kiss swollen lips and rowdy hair. There’s an urge to run your fingers through them, but you settle for lightly tracing over the fresh love bites that are scattered across his neck and collarbone.
Luke smiles dopily while you admire your work, “I think we should skip lessons more often.”
You finally get off of him, throwing his shirt to his chest while you smooth yours out, “Don’t be such a bad influence, you’re a camp counselor.” You can’t help but stare again when the marks heavily peek out near his collar, fading in between the orange fabric.
Luke notices your longing gaze and walks over to you, “You know, you’re not the only one with charm in this relationship. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go, lover boy.” You roll your eyes and take his hand. You stumble on your way out, but Luke is there to catch you. He chuckles and lets his arm rest over your shoulders while you reach up to hook your hand with his. He helps you find your footing until your legs wake up on the way to the amphitheater.
“Wait,” You halt just before you reach the steps. You grab Luke’s necklace, gently pulling him in. You let your hands rest on each side of his marked up neck and he hisses at the feeling of your fingers gently pressing on his sore skin. Luke bites down on your lip in response, savoring the hint of watermelon that seeps through until you pull away, “Just wanted one more.”
You’re satisfied once you see the hint of pink gloss smeared at the corners of his mouth. He takes your hand again, guiding you inside. You spot some of your sisters, greeting them with a wave. They giggle at you two in response, whispering frantically to each other while you find an empty space at the front of the bonfire.
“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” Luke asks Sadie, who happens to be standing to his left alongside Caroline. Chris, who’s sitting a step above them, unashamedly howls with laughter at the sight. He leans forward to clap Luke on the back, catching the attention of Grover, who sighs in embarrassment, and Annabeth, who’s trying her best not to giggle at the sight of a gobsmacked Sadie. She and Caroline shake their heads frantically, broken words bubbling from their throats as they take in Luke’s glossy, blissful smile that he throws at you.
They finally give you the time of day, noticing that the reason for his contentment comes from your own swollen lips. You look back at them with a smile and take your rightful seat next to Luke, who wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer, watching as they go back to their siblings to start tonight’s singalong.
If the fire glows a little greener as Sadie and Caroline lead the singalong, no one comments on it. They all know better than to mess with the insatiable charm you hold on Luke. After all, you are your mother’s daughter.
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson imagine#luke castellan#annabeth chase#grover underwood#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#stevie writes!
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
smart, sexy, lacy, i’m losing it lately.
pairing. student!yang jungwon x student!fem!reader
summary. jungwon has always hated you, right from the start. you were too nice, too smart for your own good, and lately—you’ve been starting to get too pretty for yang jungwon to handle.
author’s note: HAPPY BDAY YANG JUNGWON WOOOOO here’s a post dedicated to my bias, the loml. this fic is entirely based off of olivia’s song “lacy”, one of my favorites off her guts album!
Yang Jungwon thought you were the most insufferable person he met. Not only were you overly nice, but you were so smart that you got the highest scores unlike bitter Jungwon who always managed to score second place.
“I’m losing it,” Jungwon whispers underneath his breath as he lifts his paper up into the air. A big red 99 was scribbled on top of his paper.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Sunghoon, a friend of Jungwon’s, took a seat next to the mess of a boy who was currently ruffling his hair in stress. “A 99 is good Wonie!”
“No it’s not,” he mumbles, placing his head against the table. “No it’s not. Song Y/N managed to get a 100 again.”
Almost as if the universe knew Jungwon was talking about you, you passed by the two boys, waving a quick hello to Sunghoon.
“Don’t wave back.” Jungwon mumbles, lifting his head up slightly to glare at Sunghoon.
“What? Why?” Sunghoon whines, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know why you hate her, she’s a sweetheart.”
“Look at her,” Jungwon mutters in disgust as he finally straightens his posture to look at you. “God’s favorite child—Song Y/N. Those stupid ribbons in her hair make me want to barf.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say it, but he’s ultimately very concerned for Yang Jungwon. He’s known the boy for years and it confuses him on why he hates you so much. You have been nothing but nice to the both of them since freshman year of high school.
“Why do you care so much Won?”
“I don’t.”
It’s a lie, one that Sunghoon detects from a mile away.
Yang Jungwon cares. He cares a lot. He lets his hatred of you take over his life, and it leaves him feeling miserable.
When Yang Jungwon walks into creative writing, his favorite class of the day, he is hit by the overwhelming smell of your perfume.
He’s practically memorized it by now because everytime it’d come into his presence, his nose would flare up and his body would tense. Vanilla and macadamia, of course you’d wear something like that.
You probably don’t notice—or at least Jungwon hopes you don’t notice—but he’s always staring at you, quickly looking away when you make eye contact. Sometimes, he’d huff under his breath about how ridiculous you look with your ponytail, even though Yang Jungwon knows it looks adorable on you.
Being around you was like sweet torture in the young brunette’s eyes.
“Jungwon!” You say as you make your way to him on one afternoon. “Congratulations on making it as class secretary! I knew you could do it!”
Jungwon bites the inside of his cheek, not expecting your input.
You’re too nice. You’re way way too nice to him. He thinks.
“Thanks.” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Although you were complimenting him, it felt like bullets piercing through his skin.
“I dyed my hair, do you like it?” You give him a smile, oblivious to the current crisis that Yang Jungwon was going through.
You did dye your hair. It was a bright blonde now, kind of reminding him of Regina George, you know—minus the bitch part.
“It’s… okay.” He mutters. “Listen Y/N, I have a lot of work, do you mind?”
You shake your head quickly, muttering out a small apology before taking off to find your friends.
Yang Jungwon wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but you looked dazzling in your newly dyed hair. You looked like Bardot reincarnated, and Yang Jungwon was so fucked because he knew that he couldn’t escape you wherever he’d go.
It was almost as if you were made out of Angel dust.
“Are you out to get me?” Yang Jungwon slams his hand on your table, jolting you from your work.
“What are you talking about?” You say, still putting on a smile despite being confused.
“Are you out to get me?” Jungwon feels out of breath now that he’s all up close and personal to you. “You poison everything I do!”
“What do you mean?” You frown, the feeling of sadness suddenly seeping over you. “Jungwon?”
“You know that I just loathe you lately? Do you Song Y/N?” Jungwon looks away in distress, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “My mind, it’s like I can’t get you out of it, and I don’t know what to do. I hate you—I swear I do—but I don’t know anymore! My mind practically worships you Song Y/N!”
Jungwon’s eyes widen when he realizes he’s said too much, especially when he comes in contact with your face that’s bright red in shock.
“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”
“Jungwon, it’s okay.” You take his hands into yours, rubbing it comfortingly. “I kind of knew for a while, Sunghoon told me. I know all these feelings must be confusing but you know I’m here for you regardless.” You smile at him. “I like you Yang Jungwon.”
Jungwon’s mouth goes dry, and for the first time, he can’t think of anything to insult you with. “I.. I like you too Song Y/N.”
“Finally.” Sunghoon emerges suddenly from behind you two, making Jungwon gasp in shock.
“Yah! Don’t do that hyung!” Jungwon complains, hands still holding on tightly to yours.
“Sorry, had to get my two favorite kids together.”
Yang Jungwon wasn’t sure of many things, but he was sure of 2. One: he liked you a lot, and two: he was definitely going to kill Park Sunghoon for telling you everything.
#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen texts#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#jungwon x y/n#jungwon x you#jungwon imagines#jungwon fluff#jungwon x reader#enhypen jungwon#jungwon
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
ᯓ★ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
MDNI
SFW
- Listens to She Wants Revenge and Rob Zombie
- With some of his jokes one of his favorite ones to pull is on new recruits. When someone asks what his story is or why he wears a mask he loves looking into the distance and saying, “It all started after the incident.”
- You know those tik toks of how someone’s boyfriend sleeps like a dead victorian child? Ghost sleeps like a plank of wood. Even in his sleep he looks like he hasn’t known a day of rest.
- Ghost’s laugh is thick, raspy, and broken up between coughs that only make him laugh harder. It’s full of life.
- If you watch Ghost for awhile you’ll notice the random faces he makes when he doesn’t have the mask on. He’s so used to people not seeing his face that he forgets to mask his emotions, sometimes blatantly making a disgusted face at someone. He has no idea why they fucked off somewhere else but he wasn’t going to ask
- Wears socks to sleep. No one in the task force has let it go.
- Will know he’s wrong in a non-serious argument, however, instead of admitting defeat he’ll say increasingly confusing things until the other person is too confused to keep arguing. It doesn’t do anything for him, he just thinks it’s funny.
- After drinks Ghost becomes a poet with how he talks about the people he loves.
- Ghost is so good at reading lips and has a scarily amazing hearing - Soap or Gaz will whisper something to each other about him and he’ll lean over them to go “what’d you say,” knowing full well what they said. He finds it hilarious watching them stumble on their words.
SFW (serious)
- Ghost isn’t violent in his day to day life. He has moments of anger like anyone, but he would never hurt anyone he loves. He knows exactly how that feels and would never do that to someone else. Ghost takes pride in how far he’s come.
- Ghost doesnt normally wear his full mask in public, as it would draw way too much attention to him. Instead he wears a black face mask. He was sort of thankful for covid since he could blend into the crowd with his mask for once.
- Ghost is not heartless. No matter how much others try and sell it, he is not a heartless monster. At the end of the day he’s human and he hates that the most. He hates emotions, specifically sadness. It’s hard for him to deal with. Ghost tries not to close himself off, but he naturally deals with things on his own. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you to hold him though.
- He doesn’t understand crying over things people can’t solve or adverse reactions. If he sees someone have a ‘irregular’ outburst he has trouble gripping why. Ghost’s brain works very logically and though he struggles to grasp it he tries to understand. He won’t ever be the person who bursts into tears over a movie, but he works hard to understand where someone may be coming from.
- When Ghost talks about feelings he’s usually really blunt with it and says what he feels. He doesn’t like to drag his feet in the emotion and tries to move on from it as fast as he can. Unless he’s drunk then see above. (He’s a laid-back lovey drunk.)
NSFW
- Contrary to popular belief, Ghost is pretty tame in bed. Every other part of his life is rough but with you in his arms he wants to savor how you feel. If you ask him to be rough he may be depending on his mood but he never does too much and always checks on you.
- It takes awhile of building trust, but Ghost eventually lets you ride him on top. He knows he’s a strong man and stop anything but it takes him a bit to be okay being on the bottom. At first his muscles are nervously wound tight until he feels himself enter. Imagine the universe zooming out dramatically, that’s how his brain feels when he experiences this for the first time with you. He ends up a drooling, groaning puddle.
- Always has a protective hand on you in public. His large palm spreads over the small of your back, sliding to cover your thigh when you sit in a chair. Ghost doesn’t even realize when his fingers instinctively draw circles on the muscle, missing how close they are to your crotch. When he plucks at the fabric of your bottoms and hears your shaky breath he realizes how much he’s riled you up. Don’t worry, he’ll always take care of you.
- Ghost doesn’t tend to jerk off much due to lack of time and not having a high sex drive. He honestly couldn’t care less whether he has sex or not. It’s never crossed his mind as an issue on either side of having it or not. When he does have sex he makes sure it’s fucking good. Ghost’s a thorough guy and he’s very thorough with you.
- Usually in the middle of the scale of preferring receiving or giving. After hearing your sweet noises he leans more towards preferring giving. He would never turn down a blowjob from you though.
- On the quieter side when fucking. Low groans, huffing, and sighs of relief. If you edge him for awhile, however, you can pull a few broken moans from him.
- Doesn’t wear the mask during sex unless you explicitly ask for it. It feels reassuring to bare his full self to you when having sex.
- Has to hide his smile when he sees the scratches down his back. He takes pictures and proudly sends them to you.
- Before getting into aftercare Ghost likes to sit there with you for a bit. He makes sure never to lay for too long so he can clean you up, but he always lays there with you to let the love seep into his bones. Ghost loves replaying the scene in his head to memorize your beauty.
#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#call of duty#cod modern warfare#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley headcanons#call of duty headcanons#ghost x reader#ghost headcanons#ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost riley x reader#ghost riley x you#headcanons
951 notes
·
View notes
Text
♡ SPICY. // PART TWO
❝ tell me what you see when you look at me, 'cause i am a ten out of ten, honestly. ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do <3
✧ feat ; albedo, dainsleif, gorou, itto, kazuha, lyney, neuvillette, scaramouche, tighnari, zhongli x gn!reader
✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, (kinda???) modern au for itto, extremely suggestive for itto + neuvi
✧ a/n ; woahhh it's been like ten thousand years since the release of part one but here's part 2 finally ! i doubt anyone was actively waiting for this LOL but regardless i hope you enjoy it!
part one︱part two
✦ as an alchemist, you’d expect ALBEDO to always be in a white lab coat stained with all manner of chemicals, but he’s the opposite – he’s always dressed to the nines in formalwear, with his trademark coat layered on top of it to keep him from freezing in dragonspine. he only ever removes it when he’s visiting you in mondstadt. in the quiet of your peaceful apartment, albedo will be busy preparing dinner, and you feel like a starving victorian man when you see him roll his sleeves up, exposing the rare sight of his pale wrists. his fingers are long and slender too, but there’s something about the way the white fabric of his dress shirts clings to his forearms, emphasising his lean muscle and making you wonder if you’re drooling. you’re pretty sure he’s caught you staring way too many times, but he always just gives you a soft smile – he can’t understand why you’d admire him like this when you’re the one he’s always believed to be a masterpiece.
✦ dating DAINSLEIF is a quiet affair. he’s not one for over-the-top gestures or grand proclamations of his love, but he never fails to make it known that he absolutely adores you with his whole heart. between the two of you, you’re the one who always talks more, always chattering away endlessly about your latest fancy. but no matter what you’re prattling on about, dainsleif will always tilt his head and gaze at you as if you’re giving a speech on the most interesting topic in the world. he’ll even have a small smile gracing his lips, his usually stern expression now softening into one far more gentle. he’ll even nod and ask all the right questions, proving that he was paying attention the entire time. and if you ever feel guilty for talking so much, he’ll instantly reassure you that your voice is music to his ears, and if he could he’d listen to it forever.
✦ some days, it’s like GOROU can’t even believe he’s dating you. he’s just so adorable, getting incredibly flustered whenever you even breathe in his direction. his face turns bright red and he starts stumbling over his words, barely able to string together words into coherent sentences. or if by some miracle he manages to keep his composure, his tail is a dead giveaway – it’ll be wagging at the speed of light whenever you praise him. you could be doing the most mundane tasks like laundry or washing dishes, and he’d still look at you with heart eyes as if you hung the very stars in the sky.
✦ without a doubt, ITTO has no clue how attractive he is. once you move in together, he’ll just always walk around shirtless, even though you squeal in surprise whenever you see him. i mean c’mon, who could blame you? the oni is ripped thanks to all the hours he spends at the gym, and when you see his muscles flexing, showing off the gleaming red tattoos illustrated across his back and torso, you have to excuse yourself because you swear you’re seriously about to start barking. to make things worse, he always pairs it with those stupid baggy grey sweatpants that make you actually want to pounce on him – it’s always a struggle to keep your eyes on his face. you’re beginning to think he knows the effect though, because you always end up in the bedroom together when he wears them.
✦ KAZUHA is the type of boyfriend who adores casual skinship. wherever you are, he’ll always find some way to touch you – whether it’s an arm wrapped around your waist, his head leaning on your shoulder, his fingers intertwined with yours… the list is endless. but his absolute favourite has to be when you wear shorts. one of his hands somehow always ends up on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. it isn’t necessarily heated, it’s just comforting for him to know you’re there beside him. but you’re aware of his intentions whenever he starts doing it under the table in public, merely tilting his head to give you a playful smirk and a wink that’s imperceptible to anyone else.
✦ the entirety of fontaine knows that LYNEY is a flirtatious rascal. yet with you, he thinks he’s met his match. the two of you are constantly bantering, attempting to outdo one another in gifts and pick-up lines and dates – lynette says you both are more like competitors than partners. however, it’s just the way the both of you show affection. but there’s one move that LYNEY knows will always guarantee him the win. you’ll be chattering away, planning out your next date, and suddenly his magician hands are at your waist, fingers slipping into your belt loops to tug you closer before pressing a mischievous kiss on your lips. your shocked and flustered expression always makes his day.
✦ as the iudex of fontaine, it makes sense that NEUVILLETTE is not one for tomfoolery. but when it comes from you, he always seems to accept whatever pranks or teasing you throw his way. but sometimes, if you’re acting up too much in public, all it takes is one look from him to set you back in line. his dark blue eyes narrow as he glances at you, lifting one brow as if to ask if you’re really willing to keep going like this. that decision is up to you – will you continue misbehaving, crossing the line to see just what he’ll do? or will you be good and quiet down in the hopes that he’ll reward you?
✦ everybody knows that SCARAMOUCHE is a brat. that doesn’t change when he somehow becomes your boyfriend. he likes pushing your buttons, always wondering when you’re going to tip over the edge. even just simple requests will prompt him to reply ‘“oh yeah?” “make me.” “mhmm.”’ and it drives you up the wall. not just because it’s annoying, but also because it’s strangely attractive to see the way he raises his eyebrow and leans back in his seat, a smug smirk playing about his lips. but fear not, the easiest way to get him to behave is just by grabbing his collar and pulling him into a kiss. he’ll be so surprised that he’ll instantly go do whatever you told him to just so that you don’t see his blushing face.
✦ it’s 100% a green flag when men are willing to explain things to you instead of assuming you wouldn’t be able to grasp the concept, and TIGHNARI is a shining example of this. as the chief of the forest rangers, he’s extremely well-versed on everything related to sumeru’s jungles, and this extends to skills outside of foraging, as he’s also talented at cooking and preparing medicines. if you’re curious or eager to learn, he’ll always explain it to you in a way that makes it easy for you to understand, and even if you don’t, he’s very patient, and will answer every single one of your questions no matter how dumb you may think they are until you get it. seeing the proud smile on his face once you successfully achieve whatever he taught you is more than enough incentive for you to rush to learn even more from your beloved boyfriend.
✦ ZHONGLI is the type of lover that comes once in a millenia (which is probably how long he’s been alive too). he’s the whole package; sweet, caring, smart, not to mention handsome! (the only problem is that he’s constantly broke…) you’re lucky to have him as your boyfriend, and the first time you realised this was when the two of you were walking through a busy crowd in liyue’s bustling harbour while trying to run some errands. upon sensing your discomfort at how the strangers were unintentionally jostling you and bumping into the two of you, ZHONGLI wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him to put more space between you and everyone else walking past. once the crowd thins out, he’ll guide you with his hand on the small of your back, the warmth a gentle reminder that he’ll always be there for you.
yeah sorry i deserve to be sent to horny jail for some of these 😭 HAHAHA js be glad cyno was in part one bc the things i want to do to that man... Unspeakable
© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !
#✏️ — quill writes !#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#albedo x reader#dainsleif x reader#gorou x reader#itto x reader#kazuha x reader#lyney x reader#neuvillette x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#tighnari x reader#zhongli x reader#astronetwrk#genshin fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Three Times Natasha Proposed to You and the One Time You Said Yes
pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader
summary: your girlfriend has a habit of proposing, and you have a habit of saying no.
a/n: I was gonna do this with katniss but decided it worked better with my favorite spy and also its been way to long since I wrote for herrrrrr ahhhh anyway, I LOVE HER YOUR HONOR
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
The first time Natasha proposed to you, you had only known her for 18 hours.
You were new to the team. So new in fact that you only knew three people’s names at a table with eight people since the other five were too busy all day to introduce themselves. Dinner was awkward, for you at least, as everyone else was busy chatting about their days with each other. They’re laughing, the bond they all share clear as joy feels the air.
You don’t feel that joy.
It’s not like you’re not happy to be here; you’re insanely grateful that Fury was willing to see past your history and allow you to join forces such as the incredible ones around you, but you just don’t feel very welcomed.
You don’t blame the team. After all, it’s only the first day, and Fury already told you about the fact that most of the people on that team aren’t very warm and friendly. It does kind of bug you though, how now the people you’re not familiar with even seem to notice your presence in the group.
It’s just the first day. Things will get better. You repeat for the 100th time, eyes trained on the table as you spoon some more of the food that was in the kitchen when Jarvis called for you into your mouth. It’s chicken over rice, a simple recipe, but the chicken is covered in some type of delicious sauce that you can’t get enough of.
“Is the food okay? It’s my family's recipe.” A girl with brunette hair and jade colored eyes sitting across from you speaks, nervously smiling as she pushes her fork around the food on her plate. She’s young, younger than everyone else on the team, and it makes you feel a bit better about being new as you remember what Fury said about her only joining about half a year ago.
You give a hesitant smile, answering honestly; “Oh…yeah. I love it. It’s delicious.”
The girl smiles brighter, reaching across the table to hold out her hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you. Fury’s told me alot about you. I’m Wanda.”
“All good things I hope.” You giggle before introducing yourself, and she laughs along with you before you both go back to eating. The rest of the team slowly introduces themselves, and out of the corner of your eye you go see the way Wanda cringes when they only do it after she gave an example.
Even if they only did it once the girl made them realize, you still feel a bit more comfortable here then you did a while ago.
You notice Wanda eyeing your rings as you guys continue to eat, so you put your hand on the table in between you too. Her eyes shoot up to you in surprise, clearly not knowing that you noticed it. “Sorry for the staring. I just…I really like your rings. I love wearing them myself and I’ve never seen any like that. They’re beautiful.”
That’s how you guys start up in a conversation about rings, and then a few minutes later you’re sliding off one of your rings to give to her. She seems like the nicest person here, and you can already tell you’re going to be great friends. When you get it off, it accidently flies out of your hand, bouncing on the table before it falls off and lands somewhere on the floor. You turn red in embarrassment at the way everyone falls silent, staring at you in amusement before a redheaded woman slides out of her seat and kneels down on one knee to search for the item.
You met her earlier when you went to the gym to train, and she even helped you learn a few awesome fighting moves before she left to let you do your own thing. You can’t deny that Natasha is beautiful.
The woman smiles when she finds it, grasping the metal in her hand before she turns to face you, still on one knee as she holds it out for you to take as if she’s proposing.
If she notices the way it looks, she doesn’t say anything until Tony, the man you met when he blew up a lab earlier, laughs and mumbles under his breath, “I’m not paying for that wedding.”
You giggle, watching as Natasha stands up and turns to glare at him before facing you once again and putting it on the table near your plate. “Shut up Tony.” She mumbles before sitting back down in her own seat, and you say before shoving food into your mouth when the embarrassment sets in, “I’m not ready to settle down. Sorry Nat.”
Everyone just chuckles, and you are left with a small smile and new found happiness.
The second time she’d done it, she’d almost had you fooled that it was real.
You and her had been dating for three months, and you guys were absolutely inseparable. You’ve learned a lot about her in the year you’ve been an Avenger, and she sometimes opens up about her past. Her little sister, the red room, Dreykov.
Anyway, Fury had sent you on a mission with her, your best friend Wanda, and Steve Rogers to go and steal a flash drive from a destroyed hydra base then find some place quickly to look at what's on it. He said to find the nearest place as people would already be on the search for us, so that's why you got Nat to pull over at a mall. Not for clothes or a new pair of shoes, but to go into one of the electronic stores and use one of their computers to read what's on the file.
It was easy until Natasha noticed one of the workers looking at Steve in suspicion as they see him inserting the drive into one of the computers, and you’re about to abort the mission before your girlfriend grabs your hands and tugs you to the middle of the store, dropping into one knee and glancing at Wanda. The witch seems to get the hint even though you don’t understand what's happening, but you do when the young girl uses her magic to make a ring appear in Natashas hand. It’s beautiful, but you can tell it’s just an illusion to fool the people around you as small red whisps surround your best friend's hands.
“I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” The redhead starts, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the store but too loud as to not seem unusual. “I know you’re having my brother's baby,” She continues with that most serious face you’ve ever seen, and you have to try your hardest not to burst out laughing. “But I can treat you better than he ever could.”
The whole crowd of people in the store are now focused on you, even the workers which gives Steve the time he needs to enter the hard drive into one of the computers and read what's on it.
“So what do you say hottie? You wanna do this or not? Marry me?” You stare at her for a few minutes, eyes glancing at the blonde haired man who silently laughs at the scene in front of him before sending you a thumbs up to show he’s done and you guys can go.
“No!” Everyone quietly gasps, all looking away as Natasha fakes offense. “No! What the fuck? What kind of proposal is this? I’m just trying to buy a new phone, Stacy! And you’ve got a huge barbecue stain on that sweater. This is truly the best you could do?”
You're having way too much fun with it as you scoff before gently slapping her, trying your hardest not to laugh at the way everyone gasps even louder while you storm out.
Your friends and girlfriend quickly catch up with you, and you all finally burst out laughing by the time you’re getting in the car and driving away from the mall right as some scary looking military vehicle pulls up to the building. “Did you have to slap me?” Natasha laughs out, the ring box Wanda had magically created is now gone as she sits next to you in the back seat. “I feel like you enjoyed that way too much.”
“I did enjoy it. I’m also just practicing for the day you do propose to me.” She lets out a fake annoyed groan, slinging an arm over your shoulder as she pulls you to lay against her side.
Despite the playful mood, you can’t help but feel a fluttery feeling in your chest and a warm blush coating your face at the thought of being married to this girl. Little did you know, she was feeling the exact same.
When she did it a third time, it almost seemed like it was second nature for her to pull out a ring box and propose to you.
You had just got back to the Avengers tower after a lunch date, and she froze on the doorstep when she realized you were no longer beside her. She turns in circles, panic filling her when she doesn’t see you. She’s a spy for fuck sakes, how could she have not noticed something happening to you.
Her panic fades when you pop out from behind a thick tree, a snowball made from the small amount of snow on the grass in hand as you send her a mischievous smile. She doesn’t have any time to move before you’re launching it in her direction, practically falling over with laughter as it hits her forehead and then breaks into pieces.
The redhead still seems a bit shocked, but she quickly gets over it as she groans with a grin and runs over to harshly tackle you to the ground. It knocks the wind out of you, but you’re both still laughing so hard your stomach hurts as she grabs some snow from beside your head and then lets it fall onto you. “You wanna play that fucking game? Oh we can play that game honey.”
You shake your head, but the bright smile on your face tells her that you’re not actually scared. “No. I’m sorry Tasha. We can talk this out.” When she makes a, “tsk…tsk” noise with her mouth, you use all your strength to push her off of you, sprinting towards your home even though you can hear the sound of Natasha’s boots hastily crunching the snow beneath them as she runs after you.
She wraps her arms around your waist, easily picking you up off the ground and spinning you around. As cringy as it is, your laugh makes her laugh, and the moment is so perfect as she slowly lets you down so she can look you in the eyes.
“Wait a second.” Natasha mumbles, before grabbing something from her pocket, telling you to turn around for a minute while she makes you a surprise. You draw shapes in the snow in the meantime, your fingers practically numb but by the time you’re done, every planet is drawn into the frozen canvas. “Alright. Turn around.” She speaks again, and your smile grows- if possible- at the sight.
She’s messily formed a ring with the wrapper from a straw at dinner, and now she’s balanced on one knee in the icy snow as she grins up at you. “Will you marry me, and be mine forever?”
You pretend to think about it for a moment, finally holding at your left hand for her to put the ring on as you yell out, “Of course I’ll marry you!”
The russian girl laughs, once again picking you up to twirl you around before she sets you down to kiss you easier.
From a window high up in the Avengers tour, Wanda watches the interaction while drinking her tea and then closing her curtains. “When is she gonna do it for real?” She whispers to herself, already so done with the fact that Natasha has proposed to you three times, and yet she hasn’t been able to wear a pretty bridesmaid dress in her whole live.
The day Natasha proposed in the privacy of the cabin Tony’s letting you borrow for a weekend, twinkling lights dressing the living room and the dining table decorated with candles, rose petals and fancy wine that’s probably from Pepper, was the time you know she wasn't kidding.
As the sun sets behind the clouds, you and Natasha sit across from each other with your free hands hooked together beside your plates. The setting sun casts gentle rays upon your face from the window, illuminating your features with a golden light. You two share a quiet, comfortable silence for a moment before she looks up from her plate to you, a smile gracing her lips. You look at Natasha, heart beating softly in your chest from the soft, gentle atmosphere of the moment. She lets go of her fork to use that hand to grab ahold of your other hand, your fingertips intertwined gently. Your eyes meet across the table, and for a second it’s just you guys in the world.
The girl then speaks, her words sincere and clear, as she makes her proposal. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you; I’ve wanted to since the first date we went on. I was scared though…..scared of finding someone I love in a world that could take it away so easily. But now….now I realize. It doesn’t matter. As long as I get to be with you for what time we have left, it’s worth it. So," she says softly, tilting her head to the side and smiling as she grabs a ring box from her pocket and opening it so you can see the diamond ring inside before standing up from her seat so she can get down on one knee next to the table.
"Will you marry me?"
The question hangs in the air as you gaze into the girl's eyes and processes the words. Your mind reels from the unexpectedness of it all, but you also can't help the surge of joy welling in her chest.
“Yes. Yes of course I will!” Her grin brightens, and she’s still kneeled as she wraps her arms around your waist to hug you as tight as she can. You join her on your knees so you’re on her level, grabbing her face with both hands and pulling her into a passionate kiss. You would’ve married her the first time she asked, but you’re somehow glad you waited until now to say yes. This is perfect.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
#natasha romanoff x you#marvel x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#marvel#marvel x you
997 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay but like…clarisse jealous?
I like a challenge when the prize is you
clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader
warnings: platonic luke x reader, kissing, title is from center by sir chloe.
wc: 2.0k
Today was your birthday, and though birthdays aren't exactly a big thing in camp half blood, considering there are probably more than 300 kids here, your cabin siblings decided to plan out a small party to celebrate it anyways.
You are easily one of the most highly respected demigod here. When you first arrived at camp, you held your ground and barely showed any fear nor awkwardness. You were friendly and charming but knew when to not take people's shit, that had earned you a favorable reputation and had gotten your godly parent to claim you after only being there for two weeks.
People liked you. And because of the way you're perceived, they were all pretty surprised to find you in a secured relationship with the commonly known camp boogeyman.
You and Clarisse hit it off rather quickly. What started as a playful banter bloomed into a strongly bonded friendship, and then soon enough, became a romantic relationship.
The two of you grounded eachother constantly, you compliment eachother personality wise, and you just have much more in common then people think.
Equally as excited as your cabin siblings, Clarisse arrived right on time for your party in your cabin. The event was a private one, only your siblings and close friends are invited.
They had worked together baking a lovely raspberry cheese cake for you along with some brownies and chips. Despite it being your party, you were warned of stealing a taste of any of the food before the party begun.
You were immensely grateful when the clock finally hit 8pm and everyone invited finally arrived. "Can I cut the cake now?" You asked for the 5th time.
"Yes." Your siblings answered together, laughing at your excitement. Clarisse sat by your left, passing you the cake cutter. "Can you do it?" She mumbles as she watches you struggle to push it all the way down.
You hummed positively and pressed on harder untik the knife finally reaches the bottom of the cake and everyone cheered. "There you go." You mutter to yourself.
Continuing to cut the rest of the cake, you soom began passing the pieces to everyone on paper plates before leaving the rest of it for yourself.
Clarisse was quick to scoop up a section of it with a spoon to wave it over your face. "Alright baby, you know how it goes, open up." Everyone else was laughing at the sentiment, but you weren't bothered by it at all, opening your mouth wide open for Clarisse to feed you like a mother does to her toddler.
The party hat you were wearing really tied it all together. Nothing says festive more than a coney party hat with pink and yellow polka dots over them.
"Oh this is amazing." You say with your mouth full, moaning at the taste. "Here, let me do it." You offered quickly, taking the spoon from Clarisse to feed her the same way.
If it was any other day, she'd rather die than get caught being babied like this, but it was your birthday, so automatically, you get a free pass.
"Someone should take a photo." One of the girls called out, Clarisse' glare immediately shut her up. You laughed at her reaction, squeezing her cheek. "Oh no, you're grumpy again." She rolled her eyes and relaxed her face from all the frowning.
"I'm not grumpy, I just naturally look like this." She defends herself as she eats her portion of the cake.
Music was playing on the back, a mix of Debussy and Tchaikovsky on shuffle as everyone knew how overwhelming loud party music made you feel.
It was all well and beautiful, everything went better than expected, and it's in these moments, surrounded by your loved ones and feeling your happiest, that you feel the luckiest in life.
It was present sharing time when you heard your cabin door knocked on. You ignored it ar first, letting your sibling check on the visitor as you continue to open your presents.
"Oh my god, it's a cat sweater!" You exclaimed at your sister's gift. She was only 10 with a passion for sewing and fashion, and she probably took days to make the sweater. You could see the slightly folded and unsymmetric edges, making it even more endearing.
"You said it's your favourite animal." You nodded your head and bear hugged her. "It is, thank you for this."
You were about to open your 4th present when your sibling that you had sent to check on the door came sprinting back. "Who is it?" You asked with a raised brow.
"It's, Luke." The name caused the noise around you to husb down. You could feel Clarisse stiffen next to you when you smiled. "Oh, is he joining us?" You doubt it, seeing as he wasn't exactly invited, and it was already so much people here.
"No, he said he wants to see you outside."
You and Luke are as close as he is with anyone else. His face is usually what new campers are met with, being the leader of Hermes cabin and all, he's always taken the role of the mentor very naturally, never having a problem helping the new kids find where they belong.
Clarisse unfortunately doesn't view your friendship with him as just that. You've seen the way she tries to size him up whenever he attempts to talk to you alone.
You stood up from your sitting position and ushered your friends and siblings to get back at the eating and dancing as you walk yourself out of the cabin to meet him.
Your hand slips away from Clarisse's. You give her a quick smile that meant 'don't worry about me', before you disappeared from her sight.
Just as you were informed, Luke is outside the door when you exit from it. He wears his easygoing grin when he sees you. You returned his smile and spoke his name.
"Hey." He greeted you. "Got the birthday girl a present." He shows you the small box he carried with him, wiggling his brows as he speaks.
"Oh, Luke, you shouldn't have." He shook his head at you nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, just wanted to get you something." His presses the box into your hand and folded your fingers over it before taking a step back.
"Thank you, Luke." You tell him, meaning those words. He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Your welcome. Now, I'm sure you'd like to go back to your party. See you tomorrow?" You nod your head.
"Alright then, have a good night, happy birthday." You waved at him as he walks off towards his own cabin, waiting until he's a few steps away before going back in.
You were glad that no one really noticed you until you were near to the group to sit down. Though Clarisse's eyes were on you as soon as you entered the cabin.
Some of them stopped eating as they moved to seat crisscrossed closer to you. "What did he want?" One of them asked.
You lifted the box up for them to see. They responded with an 'oooh' as they wait for you to open it. "It's so small." Your younger sibling noted, hovering above the box. "Maybe it's a ring." The other suggested. You snorted and shook your head.
"And where would he find a ring around here, less alone to make one." You knew it wasn't a ring. Besides the fact that he didn't have your ring size, he wouldn't give you such a bold gift that could cause a misunderstanding and piss of Clarisse at the same time.
You opened it gently and awed at it's inside. It was a brooch. One in the size of your thumb. A golden coloured hibiscus engraved brooch. "This is lovely." You noted, letting everyone else look at it.
"It's fine." Clarisse countered, her nose scrunching at the view.
As your younger sibling held it in her hand to properly look at it, you reach over to Clarisse, intertwining your fingers together again. "What about you? No gift for little ol' me?" You ask her jokingly.
"Of course I got you a gift," she scoffed, leaning in to your side. "But I'm not gonna give it here. These chatterboxes can't be trusted."
"These chatterboxes are my siblings." She shrugged at your words. "Never said you weren't a chatterbox either." You gasped loudly, faking offense and lightly slapping her arm. Her grouch falls away, her pursed lips curved into a small smile.
The rest of the party went well, you managed to get everyone to finish the food so there wouldn't be any leftovers. And despite the argument your cabin presented, you helped them cleanuo the mess and threw away the trash before ot was time to turn off the lights.
You made sure all your younger siblings have been tucked in and all your older ones are done with the chores before you and Clarisse leave the cabin past 11pm.
Some of the girls sent you teasing looks before you left, but they all swore to secrecy and made sure to cover for you just incase Chiron or Mr.D heard of your little past curfew late night walks.
Once the two of you made it further into the woods, Clarisse pulls you by the arm to sit down next to her on the less harsher part of the grass. You immediately moved to wrap your arm around her neck, resting your head underneath her chin, she wraps her own arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your hair.
"Happy birthday." She whispers against your forehead.
You looked up at her from your position and eyes her suspiciously. "I thought you said you had a present for me?"
A short laugh escapes her as she ruffles your hair. "My presence is not a gift enough for you?" You blinked and answered; "No."
Clarisse laughs again and uses her right hand to pull something out of the inside pocket of her jacket. "Well, at least you're honest." She did not have a box or a wrapper like the others did. But your heart melted at the sight of the present still.
It was a string of pearls. A necklace. And you could tell from the shine and the ivory colour of it that they weren't fake pearls. They attracted you like a moth to a flame.
"Clarisse, this is beautiful." You told her, she passes it onto your hands and watch as you eye them closely. "I know. Better than the stupid pin." You brows raise at that, your gaze darts from the necklace to her face.
"Careful Clar, some might say you sound a bit jealous." She huffs and winces at that. "I'm not jealous- I- I just...don't like him."
"And why don't you like him?" You question her. "Because he keeps hitting on my girlfriend." She answers in a matter of factly tone. "Being nice doesn't equal flirting." You tell her.
"I know that. Does he know that?"
Clarisse has never liked the way Luke talked to you, and sometimes you genuinely wonder if she was right and if it was you who never noticed any of his romantic advances. But your principle has always been straight to the point, if he doesn't say it outright, then it's not real.
"Well, he hasn't crossed a line so far, so I'd say yes." It wasn't that you're trying to defend Luke, you just don't see what he's done so far that deserves defending at all.
Clarisse grunted in response and pulls you back into her arms. You refrain from holding her by placing your palms on her chest. "Wait, put it on me first."
Something clicks behind her eyes like she just remembered about her gift. "Oh, right." You turn around with your back facing her. Clarisse places the pearls over your neck and hooks the back together in one try.
Twisting your body to face her again, you fiddled with the necklace and looked at her for approval. "Well?" She smiled as her fingers came close to your face to brush away the strands of hair covering your cheek. "It fits you."
You let her pull you by the back of your head to kiss her, welcoming her lips with yours.
Not that you'd ever admit it aloud, but having her by your side would always be the real birthday gift to you.
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#pjo series#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson#pjo x reader#dior goodjohn
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
DOUBLE TROUBLE
.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya
in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.
warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k
ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune
two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.
— ♡︎ —
“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.
the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.
there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.
atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.
“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.
“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.
osamu really was a genius.
“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.
*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*
“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.
“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?
“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.
white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,
halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.
a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.
“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.
he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.
the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.
“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!
“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.
“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.
“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?
money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.
atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.
“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”
in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.
meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.
bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.
“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.
“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”
“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.
“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”
—♡︎—
suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.
the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.
you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.
it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.
you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.
“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”
the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.
the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.
hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.
“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”
guess i’ll be the first, he thought.
suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.
atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.
“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.
“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”
the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.
“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.
“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.
it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.
atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.
“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.
“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.
the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.
simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”
“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”
“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.
the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.
atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.
but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”
“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.
he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.
“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.
“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.
“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.
get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.
a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.
frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.
hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.
you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.
he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.
starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.
it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.
“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.
the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.
“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.
“you’ve got to be kidding me..”
“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”
—♡︎—
osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.
you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.
“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.
the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.
he has drugs just laying in his room?
“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.
he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.
“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”
osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.
“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.
fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.
“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.
every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.
you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.
“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.
he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.
the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.
loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.
“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.
you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.
osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.
“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.
your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.
“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.
suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.
“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”
seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.
it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.
absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?
“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”
suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.
“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.
“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.
“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”
the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.
a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.
suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.
hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.
“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.
he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.
“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”
“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”
“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.
you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.
“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”
“are you gonna stare or join?”
sluttsumu 2023
#ೃ༄ ratedK#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#atsumu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#atsumu smut#atsumu miya#atsumu x you#osamu miya#miya twins#osamu x reader#osamu smut#osamu x you#suna x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintarou x you#hq suna#hq atsumu#hq osamu#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu#haikyuu fanfiction#atsumu scenarios#suna smut#suna rintarou x reader#suna x you#atsumu x female reader#osamu x y/n
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Accidentally Courting an Eel Ⅰ
author note: oooops I was supposed to post this days ago but then it somehow ended up being almost 5k words?? And this is only part 1?? Sorry sorry, I hope you enjoy it! A lot of chaos here, the only one who shows any kind of sense is Ruggie, we love you king! also many character cameos as well! i hope i did them justice
warnings: Cursing, violence, reader is quite a feisty and angry person tbh
characters: Floyd Leech x F!Reader
Your world had been turned upside down when you had returned from summer break. Intent to start your second year, you instead went to your first day of the semester only to find out that your mage school was closing and being absorbed by another school. In a whirlwind, you found yourself in the prestigious Night Raven College opening ceremony, being placed in a dormitory posthaste (you found yourself sorted into Heartslabyul, your new housewarden seemed absolutely unhinged) and then expected to continue in as normal. You had no idea why your academy closed, or why such a prestigious college was so willing to absorb an indie mage academy with a small student cohort and an obscure reputation, and those questions were never answered. Life just kind of… Went on.
Whilst the arrival of new students at the start of a new academic year wasn’t strange, it was entirely unusual to receive sophomore and senior students with the incoming batch of freshmen, so there was a lot of excitement that followed the first couple of weeks that you and the rest of your previous cohort had at Night Raven College. Lots of eyes on you, sizing you up and trying to get an idea of what you were worth… And for you, that meant a few fights.
You were known in your previous academy as being quite fiery, not hesitating to throw hands if you needed to, despite being on the shorter side compared to your peers. You were a scrapper, and a dirty one at that, more than willing to bite, scratch and pull hair if it meant that you could get the upper hand. It had gotten to the point that you began wearing shorts underneath your skirt, so that you had more freedom of movement if you needed to kick someone where the sun didn’t shine. You had the most spats with the Savanaclaw dorm, growing sick of being shoulder bumped and generally harassed by the predominantly beastman dorm. After the first couple of fights and during your next, you’d found yourself thrown over the shoulder of the Savanaclaw housewarden, Kingscholar, and extracted from the situation. You received a rather stern lecture on how you needed to stop getting into fights with his boys (which you gave him a few choice words right back) but after that, you seemed to find yourself getting bothered a lot less by the Savanaclaw students. And to be honest, a lecture from Kingscholar was miles more bearable than a lecture from housewarden Rosehearts. There were only so many apology essays you could write, after all.
After a few weeks, the novelty of having new students wore off and you were able to carry on with your school life without much issue. Sure, you got into a few fights here and there occasionally, but nothing too major, enough for you to skate under the detection of housewarden Rosehearts. After all, nothing was worse than sitting through a Rosehearts lecture. Weeks blended into months, and soon you were far into your first semester, and had rather gotten used to life at Night Raven College. You’d even managed to build some sort of rapport with your housewarden, who was less on your back now that your constant fighting had calmed down.
You found yourself sighing as you made your way to the potions lab, leafing through your notes on the way. Professor Crewel had set up and assignment and paired everyone off and to be honest, the assignment had been a complete nightmare. Together, you and your partner were supposed to brew an energy boosting potion, but you had to figure out the ingredients and brewing method with only a few hints and clues along the way. Crewel refused to give further instruction apart from surveying the ingredients selected by students, to ensure no dangerous mishaps could occur, stating with a slap of his whip that the whole point of the assignment was for students to study the potion and ingredients available to them to create the potion. Unfortunately for you, your partner for this assignment didn’t have the best grade in potionology, and considering that this assignment was graded, anything short of a good pass would have housewarden Rosehearts chasing you around the dorm demanding an explanation. Thankfully, you seemed close to finishing the assignment, the ginger root you required as your last ingredient finally having finished distilling. You were on your way to the potion lab after classes now to meet with your partner to finish brewing the potion and finally be free of the assignment that had been weighing around your neck for the last few weeks.
Or so you thought.
When you entered the lab, your lab partner was waiting there as expected, but you knew at first glance that something was up. The closer you got to him, the paler you noticed his face was, and you couldn’t help raising your brow as you stopped beside him. “What’s up?” You queried, placing your notes on the desk and putting down your bag by your chair. A few other students were milling around the potions lab, trying to finish their own assignments, one of them being Ruggie, a Savanaclaw student you usually saw running around after Kingscholar. He looked rather sheepish, his ears twitching as he stared hard at his own assignment. Your eyes fell back to your lab partner, who still looked like he would rather sink through the floor than be in the lab at that moment. “Well? Are you ready to finish the assignment? The ginger root should have distilled now so all we need to do is brew—”
“Um… About the ginger root…” Your lab partner began in a small voice, and you could see sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, “I think we are going to have to distil it again…” You blinked and stared blankly at your lab partner, as if he had suddenly grown an extra limb. “Distil it again? It took us 2 days to distil the first vial! What happened to the one we distilled?” You asked, frustration clear in your tone and mounting fast. If your lab partner wanted to sink through the floor before, now he wanted the ground to just open and swallow him whole. His eyes darted around nervously and he leaned forwards, closing the gap between you so he could whisper to you, “someone… Took it.”
You stared incredulously at him, “do you know who?” Your partner nodded; his eyes glued to the floor. “Then just take it back!” You hissed, at a loss at why your lab partner didn’t just retrieve your ginger root and resolve the situation, but his eyes shot up at your words and he looked terrified at the suggestion. “N-no way!” He stuttered, his face somehow becoming paler, “look, lets just wait a few days. I’ll distil another vial, I’ll do all the work—”
“Who took it?” You demanded flatly.
“Just forget about it, we still have time—”
“Who. Took. It.” You repeated sharply, your eyes narrowing into a glare on your lab partner. He swallowed thickly, and he discreetly nodded his head in the direction of the culprit. Your eyes left your lab partner and settled on the culprit, and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Look,” your lab partner started, moving to put a hand on your arm, “Just leave it, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea—”
“Wait here.”
You brushed off your lab partner’s hand as you began walking over to the culprit, who had his back to you as he leafed through the ingredients in the potionology inventory. He was tall, towering over you even when you weren’t that close to him yet, with teal coloured hair and roughly put together uniform. You could spy what you assumed to be your vial of ginger root tucked into the crook of his hand as he thumbed through the rest of the jars and bottles on the shelf, clearly looking for ingredients to complete his own assignment. And apparently, he had decided that your ginger root was his for the taking.
“Oi. Give back my ginger root.” You demanded, glaring at the back of the culprit’s head.
“Ahh~? Get lost, guppy. I’m workin’ here.” The culprit drawled back, not even bothering to look back at you as he continued to flip through ingredients, not a care in the world.
“Yeah? Well, you’ll be working on your ass if you don’t give me back my ginger root.” You retorted, folding your arms across your chest as you continued to glare. That seemed to get his attention, as he turned around to face you. His eyes seemed to light up when he caught sight of you, a wild grin spreading across his lips, showcasing his freakishly sharp teeth. Yikes.
“Ahaa~ You’re real tiny, little guppy. Hey, why don’t you come get your ginger root back?” He challenged, a glint in his eyes that immediately told you that this guy was going to mess with you. You tried to reach for the vial, but he quickly snatched it away, dangling it high in the air over your head with a spiteful grin. “Ah, ah, ah guppy, you’ll have to try harder than that. C’mon, jump for it.”
You clicked your tongue, feeling your blood boiling at his attitude. You stood on the tips of your toes, and even then, you were barely closer to his face. “None of us will have ginger root when I shove that vial so far down your throat no one will have to hear your annoying voice again.” You hissed at him lowly, your lips twisted up in an annoyed snarl. All amusement and mocking sank out of his face as his own face darkened, his pupils shrinking as he now began to glare at you. “You got alotta nerve, guppy. Who do you think you’re talking to?”
The two of you glared at each other, and he leaned forward with menacing intent, “Maybe I should do you a favour and squeeze some sense into ya.” He said, all previous drawl lost from his tone as he threatened you now. You scoffed, having had more than enough of this guy. You quickly reached forward and yanked that stupid black lock of hair that hung down his face, catching him by surprise and using that opportunity to push him back, making him collide into the ingredients shelf, the jars and vials rattling precariously from the impact. You tried to reach for vial of ginger root, that now also balanced dangerously in his hand, but before you could reach it, his arms suddenly locked around your middle, lifting you off the ground and squeezing. You felt your ribs begin to protest as he crushed you, and you hissed in pain, your legs kicking violently at whatever you could in an attempt to get free. You could vaguely hear the sound of smashing glass, but you couldn’t focus on that. Now when he was staring down at you, a smug smile spreading across his lips as he watched you struggle. It made you seethe. You twisted and kicked, and somehow managed to free your left arm. Striking before he could restrain you again, you took your chance and seized hold of his earring and yanked. You heard him grunt as the earring came away in your hand, but it still wasn’t enough for him to let you go, so you turned your head and sank your teeth into his arm. He froze when you did that, his hands slackening enough that you slipped out of his grasp altogether, your feet hitting the floor quicker than you expected, almost making you fall backwards. You steadied yourself, readying a follow up attack when he was still stunned frozen after you bit him, only to feel yourself yanked backwards at the waist and thrown over someone’s shoulder, moving at such a nimble speed that the ginger root stealing culprit was soon leaving your sight as you were whisked out of the potions lab.
“Put me down!” You seethed, trying to lean up in your captor’s grasp, your hand pressing into their shoulder. “Ruggie?! What do you think you’re doing? Put me down right now!” Ruggie ignored your complaints, running through the corridor with surprising ease despite you being on his shoulder, zipping through winding corridors like this wasn’t his first time.
“No can do. If Leona found out you’d been fighting again and I was there and didn’t do anything, he’d have my tail.” Ruggie grumbled, his ears going flat at the thought, “and with Floyd Leech of all people! I mean this respectfully but, Y/N are you nuts? You gotta have a death wish.” Ruggie continued to spout off about how you had not perception of threat or danger, just throwing your hands left, right and centre without any care for who you were dealing with. You scrunched up your face, a lecture from Ruggie not on your bingo card for the year, that’s for sure.
“Who is Floyd Leech?” You grumbled sourly, starting to feel a little dizzy from a combination of the blood rushing to your head and how quickly Ruggie sped through the corridors. Ruggie shook his head, glancing up at you incredulously. “Floyd Leech is the guy you just rammed into the potions inventory, and probably in every student in this school’s top 10 guys not to mess with ranking. High up too, I imagine.” Ruggie commented dryly, his speed slowing to a slow jog as he seemed to near to the destination you had in mind. “Crewel is going to kill you by the way, if Floyd doesn’t first. You absolutely totalled his potionology inventory for that lab.”
You groaned at that, the consequences of your actions starting to rear their ugly head. Either way, housewarden Rosehearts would have your head, if there was anything left of it after Crewel was done with you. You didn’t get a chance to wallow, as Ruggie slowed to a stop and gently lowered you off of his shoulder. You looked around, only to notice you were standing outside of the infirmary. “Why did you bring me here? I’m fine.” You questioned, only for Ruggie to give you another stunned look, his tail flickering anxiously behind him.
“What? Y/N… Uh… Your legs are kinda…” Ruggie trailed off and you looked down, your eyes widening as you saw an array of cuts down your bare legs, dripping blood down to your socks. “Oh… Oops.” You muttered, looking a little sheepish. Ruggie scratched behind his ear, looking slightly awkward himself. “Yeah… You should probably get those checked out…”
You sighed as you turned to the infirmary door, a small grimace on your lips. “Thanks, Ruggie… Feel free to tell housewarden Kingscholar that you saved the day.” That seemed to brighten the mood a little bit, Ruggie’s characteristic smile starting to come back to his face. “You bet I will, shishishi…” With that, he scurried off, leaving you to enter the infirmary alone. As you were about to push the door open, you noticed the something in your hand, opening it to reveal a teal earring clutched in your fist. You sighed again, having completely forgotten in the heat of the moment that you’d torn that out of Floyd’s ear. Not knowing how to deal with it, you slid it into your skirt pocket and entered the infirmary.
You sighed as you trudged back to your dorm room, rubbing your head with a tired expression. You’d barely finished having the cuts on your legs checked for glass and cleaned when Professor Crewel had come marching into the infirmary to tear you a new one. You swear your ears were still ringing from the crack of his whip, knowing you’d be hearing it in your nightmares for the next couple of days at the least. You’d been instructed to attend the potionology lab after classes tomorrow to clean up the mess you’d made, and for whatever other punishment Crewel deemed necessary for however many days he deemed. You fully expected to get chewed out by Crewel even more tomorrow when you attended your detention, but that was something to dread tomorrow.
You’d survived your encounter with Floyd Leech largely unharmed, luckily the cuts on your legs not having any glass stuck in them and shallow enough that they’d likely heal in a couple of days, easily bandaged up to keep them clean. Your ribs, however, were bruised and hurt like a bitch, but again, it could have been worse. Surprisingly, another thing that could be worse was the reaction from Housewarden Riddle once you had gotten back to the dorm. He was waiting for you by the doors to be dorm, and you expected to lose your head immediately. Instead, you sat through a two-and-a-half-hour lecture about how unacceptable your behaviour was and how he expected you to apologise to Crewel sincerely posthaste, as well as demanding you write a 2000 word apology essay. But oddly enough, Riddle seemed more irked that it was Floyd Leech that you had gotten into a fight with, warning you to keep clear of him if you valued your education.
Floyd Leech this, Floyd leech that. All everyone talked about was Floyd damn Leech, like he was some sort of terror on campus. Although you had to admit, if he managed to even rile Riddle up to that extent, maybe there was something about him.
Either way, you didn’t really care. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off an hour ago, and you were beyond exhausted. You pushed open the door to your dorm room and flopped face down onto your bed, ready to pass out into oblivion, only to feel a stabbing pain in your thigh. You groaned dramatically and rolled onto your back, patting at the bed to try and find the source of your irritation. Finding nothing, you patted at your thigh, slipping your hand into your pocket and feeling something jingle. With a quizzical hum, you pulled out a set of teal jewels, squinting at it in confusion, before it finally clicked.
Floyd Leech’s earring.
You held it up to the light, watching the light shine off of the three jewels that dangled from the simple golden stud. It was quite pretty, actually. As you continue to gaze at the earring as it dangled between your fingers, you noticed that the chain that attached the teal jewels to the stud were slightly damaged. You sat up, bringing the earring closer to your face to inspect it. Huh, it must have gotten damaged when you had pulled it out of Floyd’s ear… You turned the earring around in your hand, giving it another look over whilst you mulled over what you should do. Standing, you made your way to your desk, turning on the desk lamp and laying the earring carefully on the desk, you got to work…
“I don’t want to see a single shard of glass on that floor. Do you understand, pup?”
“Yes sir.” You muttered dejectedly, beginning to sweep up the mounds of glass that littered the battered potions inventory. You had to admit, you and Floyd had done a number on it, the floor chaotic with smashed glass and spilt ingredients, plant leaves mushed together from being trodden underfoot and staining the tiles of the lab. You sighed quietly under your breath, knowing that it was going to take a long time to clean all of this up.
As you cleaned, your eyes kept flickering to the door. You weren’t the only one who was supposed to be cleaning up this mess. Floyd was supposed to be here too. However, he had yet to turn up, so the lion’s share of the work was currently left to you. Crewel sat at his desk, grading alchemy papers whilst keeping an eye on your progress, probably to heckle you if your progress slowed. Your ribs still throbbed dully, protesting every time you bent at the waist to retrieve a particularly hefty chunk of glass, Crewel peering over at you occasionally to make sure you didn’t cut yourself any more than you already were. You could only hope you could get this done quickly so you could leave.
After what felt like hours, you had finally cleaned all the glass and ingredients off the floor, the process taking longer than you anticipated after Crewel insisted that you disposed of the spoiled ingredients properly, and then scolding you for yipping and giving you an impromptu lecture on correct ingredient disposal methods. You were about to pull of your gloves when Crewel once again appeared in front of you, a large cardboard box in his arms that he placed on a nearby desk.
“You’re not finished yet, pup. I expect you to arrange the new ingredients onto the shelves in proper order.” Crewel instructed, and you felt yourself grimace before you could stop yourself.
“Do I have to? Can’t Floyd do it? I cleaned up the entire floor!” You complained, deciding to push your luck anyway. Crewel looked around the room, an eyebrow raised before his eyes fell back on you.
“Do you see Leech anywhere?” Crewel said, and you could tell by his tone that you’d already lost. Why did he have to be so sassy?!
“… No.” You mumbled, cringing as you heard the thwapping of Crewel’s whip against his gloved palm.
“Exactly, now get to work. You can go once I approve the finished inventory.” Crewel ordered, making his way back to his desk whilst you rummaged through the cardboard box of fresh ingredients, a hard done by pout on your face. “Yes sir…”
“Good girl.”
Your entire body felt stiff the next morning, your joints cracking as you stretched with a groan. Floyd had never turned up in the end, leaving you to clean up the entire inventory and restock it, which was no easy task with Crewel’s finicky tastes. It took numerous attempts and lectures on the importance of ingredient storage before Crewel was finally happy enough to grant you freedom, only to miserably crush your spirit by informing you that he expected you to attend to the regrowth of replacement ingredients in the botanical garden for the next 3 days. Lucky you.
The only saving grace was that your initial sentence in the botanical garden had been reduced as a result of Floyd not turning up at all when you were supposed to clean the potionology lab. By the sound of it, Crewel was going to be ensuring that he served his detention in the botanical garden.
You found yourself slightly irritated that Floyd hadn’t turned up to your joint detention. Not only because it meant you had to spend hours cleaning up a mess that arguably wasn’t entirely your fault, but also because you had planned to give him back his earring. You had stayed up late into the night fixing the earring, fairly satisfied with yourself for making it look as good as new. You planned to hunt him down today to give it back to him, no matter what, if only because walking around with it in your pocket made you feel like it was going to inevitably get broken again.
Your fight with Floyd had spread around campus like wildfire, and you had people you didn’t even know commenting on how hardcore you were for going up against Floyd Leech without batting an eyelid. You’d also heard that since the fight, Floyd had been in a foul mood, and it was fifty fifty between students complimenting you and blaming you for being the unfortunate victim of Floyd’s new vile mood.
Either way, Floyd’s mood was not enough to deter you from finding him to return his earring. However, you couldn’t find him in the morning on the way to classes, and you didn’t see him at lunch either. You were wondering if you were going to have to go all the way to the Octavinelle dorm after classes, not really looking forward to that thought and beginning to think about whether this was all really worth it. Maybe you should just flag down a random Octavinelle student and give them the earring and just hope it made its way back to Floyd.
As you were pondering as you walked to your club, you saw a flash of teal at the end of the corridor, looking up quickly to see the retreating figures of a light grey-haired student along with two taller, teal haired students, one with a pretty unmistakable slouch with his hands in his pockets. A-ha!
“Oi! Floyd Leech!” You called, starting to break out into a light jog in case he didn’t stop and turn around. Luck was somewhat on your side, as all three of the students stopped and turned their attention to you, and you vaguely recognised one as the housewarden for Octavinelle. He was currently eyeing you up, meanwhile the teal haired student who wasn’t Floyd was giving you a smile that, whilst coming off polite at face value, reeked of mocking. You ignored them both, slowing to a stop in front of Floyd and boy, the other students were right. He looked like he was in a terrible mood, his eyes narrowed on you like he was about to start another fight.
“What do you want, guppy? I’m busy.” He drawled; his eyebrows furrowed as he frowned down at you. You scoffed at that, shooting your own frown back at him reproachfully. “I was really busy yesterday when someone didn’t turn up to their detention and I had to clean and rearrange the entire potionology inventory by myself.” You shot back at him, narrowing your eyes at him and watching him just stare back at you disinterestedly.
“Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Here.” You fished into your pocket carefully and brought out the teal earring, dangling it carefully between your fingers. If you weren’t so distracted trying to get the earring out of your skirt pocket as gently as possible, you would have seen the flicker of surprise that went across Jade’s expression, or how Azul pushed up his glasses in an attempt to mask his own surprise. “I didn’t realise I still had it on me when I left the potions lab, to be honest. It got a little damaged during the fight, but I managed to fix it so good I bet you can’t even notice!” You weren’t even aware of the proud little beam that was on your face as you spoke of your repair job, or how all three of them stared at you in a veiled mix of surprise, confusion, and awe.
You held the earring out to Floyd for him to take, which he did, all previous traces of irritation washed from his face now as he held his earring in his palm. A silence had fell between you and considering that the situation was already awkward enough as it is, you decided to excuse yourself. “Well, that was all I wanted. I’ll be leaving.” You didn’t wait for any of them to respond, and none of them did as you walked past them and continued on your way to your club activities.
So happy you were to finally have that interaction over with and not have to worry about re-damaging the delicate earring that had made its home in your pocket over the last couple of days, you didn’t notice how Floyd Leech stared wistfully at your retreating back, said earring cradled carefully in his bare palm…
#twst#twisted wonderland#floyd leech x reader#twst floyd#floyd leech#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#floyd leech x y/n
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The One Thing You Can't Have
Pairing: Spencer Reid × Female Reader (DBF! Spencer × Hotchner! Reader)
Summary: After five years away, you move back to your hometown. Reconnecting with many of your father's friends and coworkers, you start to get suspicious when you lose multiple pairs of panties. Or; Spencer risks it all by stealing Hotch's adult daughter's underwear. And maybe her heart, too.
Warnings: Day 15 of Kinktober - panties, mentions canon character death, age difference (ten years), panties, underwear kink, underwear stealing, masturbation, sexual fantasies discussed, PinV Sex, clitoral stimulation, partial creampie, mentions of emergency contraception
A/N: It is done! I shit you not the writing time on this is longer than most of the fics I've ever written, it took me so long that I don't have any other fics prewritten for Kinktober now and have to spend the day hastily writing them... But it was worth it. As always, you can find all my work in my masterlist and all my kinktober fics here. My requests are open until the end of the month, so if there's a specific fic you want, don't hesitate to let me know!
With your family the way it was, you'd dealt with a lot over the years. Aaron Hotchner loved his wife and kids, but that hadn't been enough to protect you from George Foyet. When your mom and kid brother had gone into protective custody, you'd been away at college, and apart from a protective detail, they'd not seen fit to move you anywhere special at all. Foyet was so caught up on your mom that he'd forgotten you existed.
When you got the call from your dad that Foyet was resurfacing, you'd known in your gut that you had to go back. You'd ditched your handlers and driven through the night but when you arrived at the house you'd grown up in, all you could see was police lights and caution tape.
You'd run as fast as you could into the house, but a pair of strong arms grabbed you and lifted you away as you screamed and sobbed. Derek Morgan held you firm as he tried to calm you, but you barely registered his words.
"My mom is in there, my dad too, and Jack, let me fucking go, Derek." You'd only stopped raging when they'd bought out the first body bag. And then the second.
The anguish that filled your lungs stole your breath and you didn't know it was you screaming until your throat was red and completely sore. Another set of hands led you away and into an ambulance, skillfully anticipating your needs.
"Y/N, look at me. Look at my eyes, we're going to breathe together, okay?" Staring up into his dark eyes you suddenly remembered that you needed the air to breathe, his calm voice bringing you back to life.
He was wearing an FBI vest but you'd never seen him before. Not a surprise since you'd avoided everything to do with your father's job for the last five years. You only really knew Derek from when he'd been sent to deliver the news to you about Foyet's initial targeting of you.
The Man in front of you was young, but still older than you. He was tall, but he'd shrunk himself down into the space, leaning over you so that he was the only thing you could see. He looked tired, but he was the only thing for miles around keeping you grounded and you clung to him in desperation.
"My Name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with your dad. You're Y/N, right?" His voice was soft and even, like he was taming a temperamental animal. Even though you knew what he was doing, trying to calm you so he could deliver a devastating blow, you let him do it, drinking in each word as total calm swept over you. You nodded at him and waited for him to continue.
"Your brother is fine, he's at your aunt's house, he didn't touch him. Your dad is in the hospital and they think he's going to pull through, but he was stabbed a few times so he's going to be weak for a while." You searched his eyes for the words he wasn't saying as panic rose in your body.
"My mom, where is my mom? Haley Hotchner, she's… She should have been with Jack, where is she?" The look in his eyes was enough to tell you what in your heart you already knew. Your mom was in that bag and your family was broken, again.
You don't know what happened next, but you knew you were bundled up in Spencer Reid's arms and clinging to him for dear life. You knew he'd somehow got you to your aunt's house, and you knew he'd stayed until you were ready to let him go. Even years later you don't know how long he'd held you. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He had let you sit and grieve, finding small comfort in the contours of his body.
After that, college wasn't a priority for you. Your brother was only a baby, and he needed you around, so even the three-hour drive upstate seemed too far to be away from him. You stuck around, taking your courses as remotely as they'd let you for the semester and struggling for it.
Your dad felt guilty, of course. For your mom, for the derailing of your life, and for the way he had to keep leaving because that was the job. In all honesty, you didn't mind being home more at that time.
There was Jack, who was great, and your Aunt was so much like your mom that sometimes it was like she was still with you, even a little bit. And there was Spencer, too.
After it had become evident that you were going to fail the only required course you were taking that semester (algebra was your enemy), your dad had sought out the only person he knew with a good grasp of mathematics and no weekend plans and roped them into tutoring you. Which meant that your weekends were suddenly fully booked by him.
He seemed a little different from the first time you’d met him, but that was a given considering the circumstances. He held himself a little taller, and more relaxed as he talked about the kinds of equations you were supposed to use and formulas you were supposed to memorize. He was attentive but not too close, and he’d shown up with shorter hair and now that you could see more of his face, more of his neck, you found yourself getting distracted by the oddest things. The stubborn but small stubble on his neck, the way sweat trailed down his face, the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, the way the breeze from your open window tousled his hair.
It took you a distractingly long time to realize that you were physically attracted to him, but when you did realize, it was suddenly all you could think about. You spent most of your days working on math so you’d have some excuse to call or text him. The mornings before your lessons together you’d taken to hogging the bathroom long enough to shave, wash and dry your hair and apply a natural but still skilled amount of make-up. You were surprised that neither of the big bad profilers had caught onto the stench of your puppy love, because you were dripping with desperation.
He never budged of course, too oblivious or too noble to lay a hand on an eighteen-year-old. Or just smart enough to know not to lay a hand on his boss's daughter.
You certainly weren’t making it easy for him though.
“Spencer, what do you think of my outfit today? I’m going out with some friends from high school tonight for a meal, do I look okay?” You’d twirled for him innocently, knowing full well the speed of your spin would throw your already short skirt up past your panties for a split second.
“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about clothes, Y/N. Maybe ask your dad.” His flush was evident enough that you knew it had worked but his hands were rigid by his sides and he carefully guided you back to the topic at hand.
It turned out that after a semester of tutoring, you’d become such a whizz at mathematics that you’d passed with flying colors. You’d been so excited to tell Spencer that you drove straight to Quantico, using the family pass your father had given you for emergencies to gain access. Spencer didn’t know what hit him when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your legs around him, but he’d somehow stayed upright as you buried your face once again in his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Spencer! I got an A, the Professor was so shocked by my improvement that he asked me if I’d cheated. When I dropped your name, he freaked.” Spencer’s eyes were wide and blinking frantically as his hands struggled to find a place to hold you. You’d worn another scandalously low skirt and it seemed the only way to pry you off of him was to put a hand on or dangerously close to your ass.
You enjoyed watching his internal struggle, and so did quite the number of FBI agents, until your father spoiled the fun by walking out of his office to check the commotion.
“Y/N Hotchner, get down from there, now.” Your father rarely raised his voice at you, choosing a softer approach to parenting than many would expect. That meant that on the rare occasion that he did feel the need to speak up, you shut your mouth and listened. Detangling yourself from Spencer’s arms with an awkward smile, you tried your best to nonchalantly bounce over to your father and explain why you were there.
He motioned for you to follow him to his office, and you complied, letting one ear stay clear to focus on the sound of Reid being teased by all of his coworkers about the scene you’d just caused.
Your dad didn’t exactly scold you for the incident, so much as he tried to insinuate that you should head back home, and then head back to college, too. With months between you and the Foyet incident, he’d been hinting at letting you get back to your life for a while, but your stunt with Reid had him suddenly addressing it more overtly.
To say that your family dinner that night was a pain in the ass was an understatement.
“Y/N, Daddy said you went to his work today!” Jack had started the conversation, and you knew the tactical warfare was beginning.
“That’s right, buddy! I had to thank Spencer for helping me with my schoolwork.” You smiled at your brother before turning a suspicious glance toward your dad, who sat peacefully eating his dinner. The fact that you were even all eating together should’ve alerted you to something going on behind the scenes.
“Uncle Spencer is the best!” It wasn’t Jack’s fault he’d just given your father the best ammunition he could’ve asked for.
“Do you agree, Y/N? Do you think your Uncle Spencer is the best?” He was using his calm interrogation voice and you hated it.
“Dad, please, he’s not that much older than me, it’s weird for me to call him Uncle.”
“He’s ten years your senior, Y/N. You know that right?” You didn’t move as your eyes locked together with his, as he seemingly asked a more serious question in the subtext. You weren’t ready to answer it though, and so you buckled under the pressure, looking away first and eating the rest of your meal in silence.
Without saying much of a goodbye to any member of your father’s teammates, you decided that it was about time you continued with your life, not letting the actions of George Foyet hold you in a standstill any longer. You went back to college full-time, got your degree, and got a job in a city near your college town. You came back home regularly, but in the five years since your mother's death, you hadn’t talked to or heard from Spencer Reid.
Job opportunities were better in D.C. though, so after growing up and having some time away, you came right back to your childhood home, ready to start over. It was only temporary, of course, and you had a job lined up, but apartments were so hard to come by, especially ones that were actually livable, that you needed to do a lot of searching to find one that felt right.
So your dad’s home it was. With Jack a bit older and constantly away at school or clubs or friend’s houses, and your dad’s schedule the way it was, you’d practically got the house to yourself. And after living alone and with female roommates for half a decade, you’d almost grown too comfortable in your own skin. The summer between your move and the start of your new job was hot and sticky, and you found yourself taking more and more cold showers after your morning workouts.
Normally at 11 a.m., you had the house to yourself, and you’d happily stroll around in a small towel and dry yourself off. If your father or brother were home, you’d cover yourself up a bit more, sure, or just head to your room quicker, obviously.
So emerging from your shower, the last thing you expected was coming face to face with Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on your couch, the one that was directly on your path between the bathroom you’d just emerged from and the room you needed to be in. You cursed your father and his practically-sized apartment as you floundered your way through a greeting of the man you hadn’t seen in five years.
“Spencer, hi. What... What are you doing on my dad’s couch?” You clutched the towel close to your body, trying not to shiver as he trailed his eyes over your body, eyes just as big and wide as the last time you’d seen him.
“We were on our way to a local crime scene, he went to grab something from…” His voice trailed off as he pointed towards the master suite where you could now faintly hear the sound of your dad on the phone to someone.
“Right. Great. I should probably…” You gestured to the room and quickly started making your way toward it, trying not to visibly cringe at the most awkward post-shower interaction you’d ever had.
“What are you doing here?” His voice shot out quickly, and you whipped around so fast, that you almost panicked and dropped the towel completely.
“Oh, I… Did my dad not mention? I got a job at a company nearby, so I moved back. I’m staying here with Dad and Jack until I can find a decent apartment.”
“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been like five years since you left, right?” His tone was bright and he was nodding his head, but the words set fire to your nerve endings as you remembered that you’d practically run away from him. Even after half a decade, he was having a physical impact on you.
“Yeah, that sounds about right. You have a good memory.”
“You know, I get that a lot.” His grin ignited something in your chest, and you gathered the laundry you’d left on the sofa and quickly excused yourself before you could prove yourself more of a idiot than you could already make a case for.
Spencer watched you go, wondering just when Hotchner was going to emerge from his hiding place to attack him for so openly ogling his half-naked daughter. He stood on the spot staring at your door for a moment too long before dragging his eyes away. Unluckily for him, what he found on the floor had him panicking all over again.
“Y/N, your forgot…” He grabbed the lacy material in his fingers and went to open the door before stopping, realizing that you were probably completely bare behind that door now. The thought sent him into a tailspin, and he once again stood clueless for a beat too long with a pair of your freshly laundered panties in his hands.
He considered dropping them back on the floor, but he didn’t want them to get dirty again after you’d washed them so nicely. He should’ve just left them on the sofa for you to find later, but when Hotch’s voice grew louder and clearer behind him, fear took over and he shoved them into the closest hiding space he could find. His pocket.
“Callahan found something for us at the ME’s office, she’s meeting us at the precinct, let’s go.”
And just like that he was out the door, and he had officially signed his own death warrant.
You never noticed that the first pair went missing. When it became a pattern though, you did become suspicious. Three pairs of underwear in thirty days seemed a bit much, and unless your building's laundry machines were eating them, you had no clue where they could've been.
It's not that Spencer even meant to do it any of the times he did. But when he'd returned home that first day, overwhelmed with the caseload he'd been handed and found the offending item still right there in his coat pocket, the blood had rushed straight to his head.
He'd spent a half hour in agony staring at them, trying to smooth them out so they wouldn't get crumpled, his dick twitching at every slight movement he made. It had been quite a few months since he'd had sex, never really one for casual hook-ups. But if the result of several months of celibacy was stealing underwear then he thought maybe it would be best to have sex sooner rather than later.
He couldn't resist the temptation. Popping the button of his pants, he'd taken his cock in his hand and worked his way up and down his shaft imagining you dropping that towel. He imagined you wearing the panties and nothing else as you replaced his hand with your mouth, desperate to please. Taking the panties in his hand, he began directly masturbating into them, wishing so needily that you were still inside them.
When he shot his load, he soaked them through, and the shame that overcame him was intense and swift.
You never realized that he'd somewhat avoided you after that, doing his best to stay away for fear he'd let his perversions rule his actions. You had somehow made yourself unavoidable though.
The first time he saw you again it was at one of Rossi's family get-togethers. It had been years since you'd seen some of the members of the team, so you were really looking forward to it. Plus, Rossi had boasted of a recently installed pool and jacuzzi within his invitation, and you were excited to check them out with the fine summer weather actually staying fine.
You'd brought your bikini with you and changed in one of the ground-floor bathrooms, wrapping another towel around yourself before you finally made your way to the pool. But once again, wrapped in a towel, you'd come face to face with Spencer Reid.
"Y/N, I didn't know you were coming." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time worked especially hard to not let his gaze travel all over your skin. He regretted his entire existence as he realized he'd have to hide his micro-expressions around countless profilers, some of whom were present and accounted for when you'd last been seen together.
Derek was going to give him hell.
"Yeah, Uncle David invited me! I'm so excited for the jacuzzi, I haven't been in one since college."
"You call Rossi 'Uncle David?'" The thought had tickled him, humor sparkling in his eyes as he finally smiled at you.
"Why yes I do, and if you're not careful, my dad is going to make me start calling you Uncle Spencer again." You skipped off merrily after that, leaving your spare clothes and your discarded ones in the bathroom Reid had obviously been waiting for.
His smile soured as he realized the impact of your words. Uncle Spencer. Huh. Some fucking "Uncle" he was. He washed his hands thoroughly, having spilled some kind of drink down himself before greeting you, as his eyes fell to the pile of clothes you'd left neatly in the corner.
He tried to tell himself he couldn't do it again, but curiosity and arousal lit up his entire body and carried him forward. Jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and shoes were left tidily discarded, but he couldn't obviously see any underwear. There was a second pile of neat clothes and he looked at that one thoroughly as well, but after a minute it was evident that you'd hidden your unmentionables from clear sight.
He heard the happy cheers and smiles from outside, and painstakingly attempted to pull away, but he couldn't. Rooting through your things, he found them. He found two of them, really. The used underwear you'd likely just taken off, and the fresh pair you were going to change into. Spoiled for choice he sat in a stasis, mentally cursing himself for being so stupidly horny.
It would be wrong to take another pair. And certainly wrong of him to take the clean pair which you'd instantly noticed were missing when you tried to put them on to wear them.
The used pair though. He held them delicately in both hands, the slip of material not as fancy as the ones he'd used before, but somehow more enticing.
Letting his cock rule his thoughts he brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, and it was like a bomb going off in the back of his head. He had to have them.
Organizing the bathroom into the exact layout as he'd found it, making sure not even a hair was out of place. The panties were safely in his pocket, and he took a minute to get his body physically and mentally under control before exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.
The next time he'd taken some, they'd really been handed to him like a gift. One month back at home, and you felt slightly stifled by the overbearing presence of your father. You needed a nice, messy night out, and you sure got it.
The friends you'd reconnected with had taken you out to a slew of clubs, and by the end of the night, you were tripping and stumbling into anything and anyone in your path. It was as if you were magnetically drawn to every object in your way, unfortunately, one just happened to be tall and lean and caught you before you could tumble off again.
"Y/N?" He looked down at you, confused as he took in your intoxicated state.
"Uncle Spencie!" You relaunched yourself into his arms, reminiscent of that day in the bullpen. "Uncle Spencie I can't believe you're here!" You giggled into his neck as you buried yourself there, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck as you pulled away to grin at him again.
"Y/N, how drunk are you?"
"How you are drunk, huh? Why don't we ever ask that question?" You sent yourself into a fit of giggles as your friends watched the scene play out behind you.
"Girls, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. My daddy is his boss. Isn't he cute?" Your arms still wrapped territorially around Spencer, you introduced your friends who cackled approvingly at your drunk shenanigans.
"Y/N, you need to let me go, the others…"
"Others? Is daddy here? AARON!! AAAAROOOOOO-" He clamped a hand over your mouth and moved you to the side of the road to hail a taxi as fast as possible. Apologizing to your friends, he quickly stuffed you into the cab and gave the driver your address.
"Uncle Spencer, I just wanted to see my daddy and his other friends. Why are you being so mean?" The exaggerated pout on your face had him dragging a hand down over his face as he struggled to pull a seatbelt over you.
"If your dad had seen you wrapped around me like that, he'd have killed one of us."
"Both of us," you nodded and giggled. Your short dress was riding up your thighs, the leather seats of the car feeling unbearably hot and sticky under your skin. You shifted uncomfortably a few times, your underwear eating into your skin in an uncomfortable manner.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" He sternly whispered the words into your ears as he grabbed your wrists. It was too late though, you'd already worked your underwear down your thighs enough that they'd reached your knees and then fallen around your ankles.
"It felt bad, I didn't like it." You leaned your head back and let your legs hang open slightly, just enough that Spencer could see the taxi driver angling for a look.
He snapped a hand between your legs, closing off the view before snatching up the underwear from the floor and pocketing it. You didn't know nor care though, the motion of the car rocking you off into a deep sleep. He'd ended up having to carry you up to your apartment, getting you ready for bed, and leaving just fast enough for Hotch to not catch him hanging over his unconscious daughter.
And he had a third pair of your underwear.
He spent his days wondering just what the fuck was wrong with him, and his nights jerking off to your scent, wondering just how willing he'd be to climb into bed with you and if he'd have the strength to say no.
He was normal enough in your interactions with one another. You'd seen each other at various case celebrations, at parties hosted by the team members, which that summer were high in total. You couldn't resist the temptation to flirt with him, but it was only when the two of you were well out of earshot of anyone who might frown upon it. You didn't think he even noticed that's what you were doing anyway.
Spencer did notice. And he kept noticing and was disgusted by how much he wanted you. You were Hotch’s daughter. He’d seen pictures of you as a child, he’d held you while you cried over your mom and the stress of having to be a responsible adult after everything happened with Foyet, he’d known how much you hated having to grow up quickly when you had Hotch for a dad, and he felt gross that despite all of that he wanted to fuck you so badly that he’d resorted to petty thievery and letting you flirt with him under your father's nose.
It was towards the end of your summer at home when you finally noticed the missing pieces. You'd even almost mentioned it to your dad before thinking it through a bit more. If it wasn't some laundry mix-up, he was going to go full FBI on every man who came close to you, and that was a risk you weren't willing to take.
In the end, you were thankful you said nothing.
The BAU team had been out on a case for ten days, the largest amount of time they'd been away since you'd moved home, and you'd decided to greet them as soon as they returned, congratulate them on a job well done.
You knew they were already heading to their regular bar after they finished their paperwork, but you had some morale to boost in the meantime, so a donut delivery plus enough coffee to stay awake for hours was in order.
They'd practically thrown themselves off the jet and into the box of donuts, each of them thanking you for the happy greeting after what had to have been a hard time away.
"Y/N, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. The team really appreciates it." Your dad had looked at you with a proud look before showing you up to his office, letting you wait on his couch until everyone was finished.
You got bored quickly and asked if you could help with anything, which is how you became your dad's errand-runner. He sent you to the printer to pick up papers, you'd run to get him more coffee from the pot twice and he sent you to ask the others about their progress. Which was totally fine had they not looked like paperwork-writing zombies on the verge of collapse.
"Y/N, head down to Spencer's desk, he should have a file on the geographical profile I need." He hadn't even glanced up to ask you that, but he did shout a thank you out the door, so you suppose he could be forgiven for now.
Bouncing down the stairs you noticed Spencer was deep in the middle of reading some files, doing that speed reading thing you'd heard him talk about but never witnessed.
"Spencer." He didn't look up, too focused on the words in front of him. "Spencer, my dad needs a file."
"Go-bag. Reading, give me a minute." He still hadn't even glanced at you so you pulled yourself around his desk to search for his go-bag yourself. It was on the floor, and you pulled it towards you, settling down on the floor to open it up and look for the files you needed.
You probably should have had more reservations about rooting through Spencer's things because just as you pulled the zip fully open, it seemed like his eyes shot wide and he threw his head in your direction, finally distracted from his work.
"Wait, don't look in-" He whisper-screamed the words at you frantically, but it was too late. The first thing your hand had closed around in the bag was small and delicate and somewhat rumpled, and your hand had a mind of its own pulling it out into your lap so the two of you could see it.
Your panties. One of your missing pairs of panties was in Spencer Reid's go-bag.
Both of you sat there for a few moments, neither of you moving, the eye contact not breaking one second as you both stared at each other in fear and surprise.
He cleared his throat quietly and whispered down at you, "I can explain…" but he didn't get a chance as you swiftly grabbed the file you'd come for - helpfully pulled into plain view by your rustling about - hid your panties back in your own pocket, zipped his bag up and swiftly ran all the way back to your dad's office.
You sat on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, no longer eager to do chores. Spencer had your underwear. He'd stolen it. He'd taken it across the country with him. He'd…You didn't know what he was doing with it, really, but you knew that every image of him with them had the most dirty, exciting, disgusting thoughts running through your head.
You grabbed your things and quickly headed out after that. Penelope caught you by the elevator as you made to leave.
"No, sweetie, where are you going? I thought you were coming to celebrate with us after this, I was so looking forward to having the fun Hotchner around, not the grumpy, serious one."
"I'm just going home to freshen up. I smell like coffee and Quantico, which when you're not nose blind to it isn't the most optimal scent." You promised her you'd see her there, and with a quick glance back at the office, where Spencer was sat tense, looking like he wanted to either run after you or shout something across the room, you left.
By the time you'd arrived home, there were ten missed calls on your cell, and you didn't have to even speculate about who they might be from because there were texts too.
Spencer: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, call me when you get this.
Spencer: I know it's weird and I'll understand if you hate me, but please talk to me.
Spencer: Please don't tell your dad.
You'd scoffed at that last one as if you'd ever have been that stupid. But you didn't reply or call him, letting him suffer in silence.
This entire time, you'd been operating on the basis that Spencer Reid didn't see you the way you saw him. That he didn't think of you as an adult but as your father's daughter. And now you were confronted with the truth that he was just as fucking lustful and horny as you'd been since you met him at 18? You weren't letting this opportunity pass you by.
Taking the panties out, you stared at them again, trying to figure out just what he'd been doing with them. You recognized them as the pair you'd lost on your night out, bright red and lacy, eye-catching, and definitely yours. He hadn't even tried to lie to you about that, but how willing would you have been to accept the fact that Spencer had stolen someone else's panties? Or been gifted them? Probably not very.
You'd assumed you'd left this pair in the taxi, not entirely sure how you'd ended up in the car in the first place or why you would decide they were uncomfortable right there. Now you had sudden recollections of Spencer also being there, and suddenly your actions made sense.
He'd not only taken your panties, he'd taken your used panties, and it looked as though he'd used them even more. You decided not to think too closely about how he had used them.
But he'd also got you home safe, making sure your things were stored neatly and tucked you into bed nice and tight. And then he'd stolen your panties.
Thinking about it was frustrating but there was nothing else in your mind at that moment. Spencer taking them out secretly to look at. Spencer smelling them. Spencer wrapping them around his big cock and stroking himself to the thought of you.
You wanted to know precisely what he'd done, and you intended to find out.
Penelope called you as soon as they'd left work, and sent you the location, too, and you decided it was time to get ready to mess with Spencer.
The dress you'd worn on the night he'd stolen your panties was freshly laundered. Usually, you wouldn't wear anything so risky in front of your father, but he'd likely only be there for an hour or two before leaving you be. You pulled out a fresh pair of red panties as well, hoping to jog Spencer's memory a little bit to entice him to talk.
With a quick make-up retouch, you climbed into your car, and within twenty minutes you were walking into O'Keefe's.
Miserably, Spencer couldn't come up with an excuse to stay home quick enough and was tumbled into the car by Derek and Penelope. He had a feeling, too, that he wouldn't be able to leave early, either, which was only confirmed when you walked in wearing that dress.
His hopes to sit and nurse his non-alcoholic cocktail peacefully at the edge of the booth are shattered as he watches you saunter over. It clings tight to your skin, twisting around every peak on your body, revealing every part that he'd spent the last few weeks dreaming about.
He was screwed.
"Hi, Dad! Hi everyone!" You smiled innocently enough, but your sickly sweet smile turned on Spencer was an omen, and he suddenly wanted to be down on his knees begging for forgiveness. Or something else.
Instead of sticking by your dad's side, you make your way to Spencer and force him to shuffle further into the booth so you can sit next to him. It's cramped and you're on the edge still, so you let your hand rest on his thigh for a beat too long as you join the conversation.
"What did I miss?"
"Just talking about the craziest things that have happened to us on cases."
"Reid was propositioned by a prostitute once," Derek chuckled.
"Please, Reid has been propositioned by multiple prostitutes, multiple times." Penelope and Derek continued to joke and giggle about the younger man's apparent cluelessness to flirting.
"I guess they just assumed you were a pervert, Spence. I wonder why they'd think that?" His eyes shot wide as you snuck your hand into his pocket under the table, watching to see if anyone else had noticed the bold actions.
But you looked away from him quickly and didn't let your hand spend too long there, sliding it out slowly, feeling up his leg as you went. He took another sip of his drink before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His cock had been rudely awoken, and he didn't want it to stay awake, so he attempted to let it fall into a less obvious position.
But as he shifted he felt something else in his pants, and curiously he put his own hand into his pocket. You'd returned your stolen underwear to the thief.
He took in a shaky breath and held them inside his pants while he willed himself to calm down. Partly because you were in public and partly because your dad was present. He almost had himself under control when you decided it was time for your next move.
"I need to go get a drink, I'll be back soon." You stood and pushed away from the table, bouncing away swiftly. He watched you go from the corner of his eye and then had to do a double take as you pushed yourself up against the bar ordering your drink.
You stuck your ass out, not enough to make it look intentional to anybody but him, but just enough so he could see the red underwear you had on underneath your dress.
He downed his drink and made his excuses before making his way right to the bar where you stood.
"What are you doing?" He demanded, so close behind you that you felt his breath in you before you heard his voice.
"Buying a drink, what does it look like I'm doing?" You scooted your ass back until it was pressed up against his crotch and he groaned, hard and loud in your ear.
"Y/N, you can't do that, your dad is right fucking there."
"I sure hope my dad isn't fucking over there, that'd really be a sight I didn't want to see." He shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he put his hands on you. Grabbing your hips, he walked you closer to the bar so that your ass was no longer on display, nor touching him in any way, then he moved to your side and left only one hand firmly touching your back so you knew not to immediately try something else again.
"This is your last warning. Now, you're going to order that drink and then you're going to walk back to that table like a good fucking girl, or so help me god, I will show your dad just how much of a slut you're being." His voice was a dark growl and you felt your panties growing more wet with each syllable, nodding instantly as the bartender came over.
For a minute, he'd genuinely thought that had worked. You'd ordered your drink without another word and then turned back to the table and walked nicely, having pulled your skirt back down a little bit. He'd thought he'd won until the second he'd sat down when Aaron Hotchner had grabbed his coat and stood up.
"Spencer, you're not drinking? Can you drive Y/N home tonight? I’m leaving now, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to leave so early.” You watched as his jaw twitched, taking only a second to compose himself before he agreed.
“Great, have a fun night sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head, before turning out and leaving with Rossi.
“Now, Spencer, what was that you were saying about good behavior at the bar? It was really so very interesting to me and I’d love to hear more.”
You spent the next half hour draining your drink and his self-control, stroking a hand down his chest as the others comfortably ignored your purring at him. He answered all your questions coldly, but every time your hand trailed a little bit too low he stopped it with a heavy hand and a warning look, letting you know that you were still getting to him.
Once you’d finished the first drink, you got up and moved to the bar once again, making sure that his eyes were on you completely as you swayed your hips on the way over. You pulled exactly the same move as you had earlier and made sure he knew you were going to be hard to handle the entire night.
When you returned, he was the only one left at the table, the others having scattered to the dance floor, the bathroom, and the bar. Taking the chance you climb directly into his lap.
“What’s wrong, Spence, you’re looking so lonely over here?” You rest your hands on his shoulders and let your ass fall to his lap, grinding down gently to feel him underneath you.
“How could I be lonely when you’re out here throwing yourself at me like a cheap whore?”
“Oh, we’ve already established how much cheap whores love you today, Spencer. Why would you be so surprised that I’m having the same reaction?”
The others slowly started returning so you pushed away from him for a second, straightening your clothes before they noticed anything amiss.
“Y/N, I need some youthful arm candy, come to the dancefloor with us!” Penelope pulled you from your seat and you laughed as you followed her, sending a wink back over your shoulder to Spencer.
He sat grinding his teeth as you continue your games on the dancefloor, swaying your hips suggestively, not sparing him a single glance as you practically exposed yourself on a dancefloor. He decided he’d let you have your fun and then march you out quickly. He moved his timeline up exponentially the minute he saw a man saunter up behind you, whispering in your ear before walking you over to the bar.
Downing his drink, he made his way to your side, pulling you away from the man quickly.
“We’re leaving now.” He said, leaning down to your ear as he grabbed your coat and pulled it around you.
“Man, what do you think you’re doing?” The man who had pulled you away was visually drunk, looking rough and dangerous as he leered down at you.
“She’s not interested and she’s too young for you anyway.” He said, very close to flashing his badge to get him to back off.
“What, you her dad or something?” He scoffed, but you turned on him with a wide smile as you leaned your head back against Spencer’s chest.
“He’s my daddy, actually.” With a wink, you left the bar, letting Spencer chase after you as you walked directly over to your car. Throwing him the keys, you jumped into the passenger seat.
“I’m taking you home now, you’re being reckless, you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Reckless how? It’s not like I’m the one who has been stealing my boss' daughter's panties for the last month.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You jacked off into my panties and now you’re pissed I caught you…wow.”
“Can you just shut up? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like me to tell him how you put them back in my pocket tonight, right?”
“Was that a threat, Spencer?”
“If I was going to threaten you, Y/N, you’d know.”
“You’ve changed, you know. Since I was a teenager. You’re different now.”
“No, I’m not. I’m very much the same.”
“You’re hotter now. I don’t know how that is possible because fuck did I want you back then, but now…” You let your eyes trail down his face as he continues to drive, jaw tense. His side profile had always been pretty, but with the bags under his eyes now more pronounced, you thought about what it’d be like to trail your mouth down his neck, what you would give to sit prettily on those lips of his.
Your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, as the fantasies grow to fill the car. Suddenly it’s his hands between your legs, making you moan like the whore he’d accused you of being earlier, it’s his tongue down your throat as he fucks his fingers into you, completely ruining you.
When you pull over, you’re certain that he’d heard your thoughts, because you didn’t recognize where you were at all.
“Spencer, this isn’t my dad’s house.”
“No, it’s mine. Get out of the car.” Suddenly obedient, you do exactly as he tells you, jumping out of the car as swiftly as you can and letting him march you up the stairs, right through his door and all the way to his bedroom. He pushes you forward gently but with a firm enough hand that you know he wants you on the bed. He doesn’t touch you any further as you prop yourself up on your elbows, but moves to another part of the room, grabbing something from a drawer before throwing it at you. Throwing them at you, you supposed, because when you looked down, you found your other pairs of missing underwear on your lap.
“I’m sorry for being so fucking dirty and disgusting, but you need to stop saying those things to me before I do something we both regret.”
You don’t reply, sitting and breathing heavily for a second before pushing your body further up the bed and reaching down. His eyes drink you in as he watches you hook two fingers underneath the underwear you’re wearing and drag them down your legs, not caring that he can see everything. You let go of them as soon as they’re hanging off your leg, holding them out to him.
“Peace offering?”
He’s on you in an instant, crawling on top of you so he can shut you up with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. You welcome him greedily, letting him take control as he pins your hips down underneath his.
“Little slut, you want me to fuck you so bad?” He says, a hand at your chest, pinching your nipple hard through your dress as you moan and writh underneath him. “Throwing yourself at your father’s friend like this, huh? Must be a little whore.”
He doesn’t let you respond, shoving two fingers into your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips around them and start sucking. Pushing your dress up, he groans at how wet you already are for him, swiping a finger over your clit carefully as you moan around his fingers, the vibrations shooting straight to his cock.
Lifting his hips, he unzips his pants in a second, not stopping to contemplate the consequences of his actions. His cock is pressed against you, gripped in his hand, but it’s hot and it’s heavy and fuck do you need it inside of you. He teases you with it as you whine around his fingers, trying to top from the bottom and grinding your hips up into him. He removes his fingers from your mouth reluctantly so he can hold your hips down.
“Spencer, don’t fucking tease me. Please just fuck me now.”
“Are all of you Hotchner’s this fucking bossy?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his question as you move to grab ahold of his cock, lining it up with your cunt and pushing it in slowly. A hand over yours stops you before it can get any deeper.
“Wait, I haven’t put a condom on yet.”
“Then you better make sure you pull out before I have to tell my dad exactly who it is that made him a grandaddy.” His hips snap up into yours then and with a few shallow pumps he’s fully sheathed inside of you as you scream at the feeling. You’d spent years thinking about this moment, but you’d never imagined he’d fill you so perfectly, stretching you out in all the best places.
His fingers return to your clit, working you up into a frenzy as you arch up into him, wrapping your legs around him to allow him better access. He growls into your ear with each thrust, before grabbing fistfuls of your ass and dragging you to the edge of the bed.
He pulls out quickly, repositioning you and holding your legs open wide as he stands between your legs, lining his cock up and pushing into you once again, immediately regaining his pace. He lifts one knee onto the bed, again pushing your legs down into the bed and opening you up further to him. The new angle hits deeper inside of you than you were sure anyone had ever been, momentarily leaving you breathless and soundless, listening only to the noises coming from your cunt.
Wet slaps of skin against skin, the arousal trickling down your leg to stain his sheets.
You regain your breath just as he knocks it out of you again, pushing you over the edge as you cum, hard, on his cock. Your head goes dizzy as you struggle to come down from the bliss he’d pulled you up into, legs twitching as he continues pounding into him.
You’re vaguely aware of some loud moans and screams, and it takes you an entire minute to realize the sinful noises are coming straight from your mouth.
“Fuck, Spencer, so fucking good for me, you made me feel so good, thank you.” His hips stutter inside you then, and you feel a heat flood you.
“Shit,” he pulls out quickly and sprays the rest of his load over your pretty black dress, falling down on top of you and reclaiming your lips passionately. You stay locked together in that embrace for god knows how long, rolling around back and forth in his bed until he finally detaches himself, pulling your clothes off and throwing a large old t-shirt over your head before grabbing you like an oversized stuffed toy and leading you into the depths of oblivion.
When you wake up in the morning, the pounding in your head is exaggerated considering you hadn’t really drank that much the night before. It takes you a shocking amount of time to realize that the pounding wasn’t in your head though, but instead a loud banging against Spencer’s door, ordering him to open up
You’re so comfortable though, you try to ignore it. Until your father’s voice is pouring through the paper-thin walls.
“Spencer, open the door, right now, or I’m kicking it down. You have five seconds.” The Spencer in question shoots out of bed immediately from beside you, scrambling to pull on pants and make his hair look like you hadn’t been tangled in it all night before running to the door.
You similarly panic around the room for a second, searching for a hiding place and grabbing your phone before settling on the absolutely genius position of under the bed.
You hear the confrontation like it’s happening right over you.
“Aaron, I really think you’re going to regret this.” David Rossi’s voice is calm, trying to talk some sense into your father, but he isn’t having any of it.
“Where is she? I told you to drop her off at home when she was finished drinking, but she wasn’t there when I woke up.”
“I can explain…” Spencer trailed off, and you cursed the man for being such a bad liar. That line hadn’t worked on you, either, so you doubted it’d work on your dad. Opening your phone, you check the time. 11:47. You quietly cursed yourself as you opened the multiple messages from your father.
You decide to help Spencer out by replying to one of them now.
“Hey, Dad. I ran into an old friend last night, and Spencer made sure we both got back to her’s safely. I’m still at her apartment, but I guess I forgot to text last night because I was so tired, sorry for worrying you!”
You heard his phone ping with the message, heard the tense silence as he read the message slowly, and heard the incredibly loud ping of your own phone, screaming from inside Spencer’s room as he replied.
Unfortunately, your dad hears it, too.
Pushing past Spencer, who in his defense is doing a great job of taking a stand by slowing down your father momentarily, Aaron Hotchner bursts into the room just as you poke your head up from the side of the bed.
“Morning, Daddy.” You try, hoping to sweet talk your way out of this whole situation.
“Living room, now.” He says, hesitating for only a moment. “You’re dressed, right?” You almost laugh at his pathetic tone before considering the situation, just nodding and walking out behind him as you try to make Spencer’s shirt cover more of your body than it originally did.
There’s a gleam in Rossi’s eye as you walk past him, head hung in embarrassment. You sit guiltily on the couch, and Spencer finds his way next to you, and you suddenly feel like two children about to get the scolding of a lifetime.
“What were you thinking?” He demands, and you grow suddenly angry at the indignant tone of his voice.
“Dad, I am 23 years old, I do not need a lecture for spending the night out.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, sit down. Spencer? Anything to say.” You slump back into your seat and wait for the answer just the same as your dad is, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, you feel a blanket being thrown over your legs, and it isn’t until then that you notice how cold you’ve been. He takes the time to wrap the material around your body, making sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about looking up at your dad.
“Hotch, what is it that you want to know?” He levels his stare with your father, and it seems to dampen his anger a little bit. They’re having a silent war right now, in some kind of expressive language that you’ve never been able to decode, and somehow, it seems that Spencer is winning.
“Did you use protection?” Your sharp intake of breath is about all the answers your father needs, and you realize how majorly you’d fucked up by letting the conversation get this far.
“Dad!” you shout indignantly. “That is frankly none of your business.” He doesn’t look at you though, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stay focused on Spencer, trying to figure out something you’re not even sure of yourself.
“For god’s sake, Dad, I’ve been in love with him for five years.” All the eyes in the room snap to you then, and if you hadn’t been feeling shy before, you certainly were now.
“Y/N, you’re barely an adult.”
“I’m sorry that’s entirely rich coming from the guy who had a child straight out of high school. I’m an adult, which is why I’m allowed to make my own mistakes and decisions, and I’d really prefer your support instead of your judgment.” Your father tries to speak again, to protest some part of what you just said, but unlistening, you groan in frustration and just climb directly into Spencer’s lap.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Spencer panics below you for a second, before resting comfortably on your legs, far enough down that he is spared your father’s dirty looks.
“Aaron, I think you’d better hear the girl out. She reminds me a lot of someone I know, so hard-headed these youths of today are.” You are intensely thankful for Rossi’s presence then and you send a thankful smile his way, just as your dad grumbles.
“Uncle David is right, you should listen to Uncle David.”
“Until a few days ago, you were calling Spencer “Uncle Spencer” so I’d be quiet if I were you, Y/N.”
“Heard.” He pauses for a second to think, the years finally etching into his skin as he breathes out a sigh of relief. You suddenly feel bad for not being home when he woke up, and you can only imagine how it must’ve felt to not know where you were, or if you were safe after everything that he’d already been through.
“I’m not against this, I suppose. But I swear to god if you ever go missing on me again, I will have an entire agency out for you.”
“You know where I’ll be, Dad.” He nods then turns to Spencer.
“You’re going to take her to a pharmacy in the next three hours to get emergency contraception, and then the both of you are going to come - fully clothed - to my house. It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.” You smile brightly up at him, and within another minute, it is just you and Spencer in the apartment alone.
You looked back up at him shyly and tried to awkwardly climb out of his lap, but he pulled you right back into him.
“For the record, I think I’ve only been in love with you for 37 days. Is that okay with you?” All of the confidence drains from your body as you struggle to find the words.
“In my defense, it’s not that I didn’t love you back then, it’s just that you were so young, I think I never considered it. And when I realized that you had those feelings, I felt so guilty about it, I never stopped to let myself think about what else I was feeling. And then you were gone and I didn’t have to think about it again, and then you came back, and I’ve been doing a lot more thinking now, and I think that-”
“I think that you should shut up and kiss me, Spencer Reid.” You said.
“Heard.” You giggled as he pressed his lips up into your own, pulling you further down into him as he held you tight. You didn’t come up for air for a long while, drinking as much of him in as you could as he gave you his heart.
“You know what this means?” You said, finally pulling away with a gasp.
“What?”
“You don’t have to steal my panties anymore. I can just give them to you now.” He lit up red underneath you and groaned as you laughed at his pained expression.
“As long as you never mention that to your father, I think we’ll escape this job and lives intact.” He said, a faraway look telling you he was likely running probability on those ideas right at that second.
“Just remember, my dad has two weapons and the ability to move you halfway across the country should he choose to.” You pressed your forehead against his, chuckling once again at his pained expression. “But also remember, that I’d happily follow you anywhere, Reid.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Hotchner. Oh, no, that was weird. We’re going to have to get you a new name sooner rather than later.” You gasped as he lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Spencer! What are you doing?”
“We need to go brainstorm some new names, too weird to call you Hotchner. And I do all of my best thinking in bed.”
“Really? I do mine in the shower,” you teased, holding tight to his shoulders as he continued forward.
“We can definitely try that next.” He said, carrying you through the door, and closing it shut behind him, hoarding your attentions for the rest of the morning.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#aaron hotchner#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid kinktober#criminal minds kinktober#kinktober 23
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
tridentarius
toxicity enjoyer
vorefan4
Untitled
velvetvelcro94
Untitled
pixzies
kpop icons
somethingjustsouthofbrilliance
Something Just South of Brilliance