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#and to love things that men disapprove of
folkloreweasley · 3 days
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Incomparable
fandom: Bridgerton
pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
summary: you don’t fit in quite well with the rest of the ton, but you still manage to catch the eye of the Viscount
note: this is for the girlies with resting bitch face, warning this is a fem!reader as much as i prefer a gender neutral reader, the heteronormative regency society just doesn’t allow it
this was already once posted before on my since deleted blog by my same current name but has been slightly edited :)
It was only one of the first balls of many and you were already regretting your unfortunate position as a newly presented flower of the season. You never thought you had what it took to be this year’s diamond, nor its ruby, nor its pearl, or any jewel for the matter. In your eyes you didn’t have the effortless glimmer that Daphne Bridgerton had last season nor the graceful steps of this season's ingénue, Edwina Sharma.
Of course, you had prepared all your life for this moment like every upper class girl. Knowing all that you should to be presented into society. You sat through the pianoforte lessons and even tried your hand at singing (which was a terrible mistake). You learned to embroider from your mother, much to the dismay of your aching fingers which always manage to burn and go numb far too quickly for her liking. You read all the textbooks even though you much preferred novels, never understanding the point of your tutors' comments about men wanting to marry educated girls. Quickly learning as you grew older and more outspoken that gentlemen like to know a woman is well read, but hardly ever that they use that knowledge in conversation.
But somehow, even after the painstakingly long hours at the modiste getting fitted for new dresses and the even longer time you spent getting into them, none of it was enough. Not the lessons, not the newly dropped hem, not the hours of sitting for your hair to be expertly styled and bejeweled by the finest gems your family had to offer. Still every other lady and her mama have had to comment on how you are so far from even the realm of possibly being considered a diamond. You heard their whispers through the silk and lace of their folding fans as clear as the night.
‘They barely graced the Queen with a smile,”
‘They’ll definitely grow to be a spinster with that face,’
Oh, but this wasn’t only from the women, of course not, they just have the decency to try and say this behind your back. You are well aware of how men love to grace you with their opinion, despite you caring very little for it. They always have the audacity to say these things straight to your somber face as if it would do you any good.
‘You know, you would be slightly prettier if you smiled,’
‘If you would smile, you would seem much more amiable,’
and most recently,
“I am sure more gentlemen would ask for a dance if you didn’t look so miserable, my Lady,”
You had been approached by a well-respected gentlemen named Mr. Hastings when you had escaped your mother’s disapproving clutches to find solace at the refreshments table. Drinking lemonade desperately wishing it were wine. He asked you to dance. Much to your misfortune you couldn’t fain a full dance card as the one clutched in your gloved hand was mockingly empty. This left you enduring a dreadfully boring conversation about his horse, how much it had cost him, how much it is actually worth, and just how incredible this horse was. You quite frankly wished to be anywhere else. As would anyone else you’re sure, but while they may have hid that behind a polite smile you showed your boredom evidently in your downturned lips.
But what would be the point in hiding it? You were tired of the facade that enwrapped these balls and society. Everyone was smiling, but was anyone truly happy? Even then who is happy and just goes around smiling like some loon. You were having a terrible time parading around the room with your mother’s stern grip on your arm showcasing you like a piece of meat, or a show pony— or to be terribly on the nose, Mr. Hastings prized horse.
Then once you had finally escaped her and found peace hoping to blend in to the wallpaper, you have been made to endure small talk and dance with a man you had little interest in. All while he made you listen to his horrendously dull conversation and he had the nerve to ask— no, to want you to not look miserable. This man who looked like molding swiss cheese and only spoke of his horse.
“I beg you pardon, sir?”
“That you look as if you are attending a funeral, my lady,” he says as he spins you following the choreography of the dance, “It is only polite that you smile as we dance.”
His own obviously fake smile is painted across his face, all thin lips and no teeth as he eyes you expectantly waiting for you to obediently heed his suggestion—or more likely it was a sort of social command. Polite society would have deemed you to be all smiles and perfect wit, to ease yourself out of this treacherous conversation you were wormed into with a poised grace or give in to his orders with a sickly sweet smile because it would be rude not to, no?
But no, indeed. You were not going to give in. No matter how many whispered or backhanded compliments you received only on your first night into society. You had seen how your female cousins and older friends had broken their backs to bend to the whims of society. Left behind forgotten ideals to suit their new suitors to get the ring and the wedding that would never even scratch at their fanciful girlish dreams of prince charmings and knights in shining armor. You would not let society break you.
“Well, I would smile if I was having a nice time. Maybe if you said something funny I would laugh or if the conversation was pleasant,” you had stopped dancing now, tired of this day and all the niceties and manners you were to follow.
You stood before him with your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed absolutely seething, “But you are far from pleasant. All you do, sir, is speak of your race horse and how much it is worth to you. If you care so much about your horse, I wonder why you ever wish to marry when all your attention seems to be going to your insipid horse!”
“Why you rude, intolerable girl—”
You didn’t care any more about the staring eyes of the ton or the gasps from appalled mamas. You would have welcomed all of Mr. Hastings angry words to at least hear something real for the first time all day. But instead he is cut short as the figure of a man approaches your side.
“I beg your pardon Mr. Hastings. How dare you raise your voice to a lady, have you no honor or decorum?”
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton stood before the two of you. Chin tilted upwards and shoulders set back in an unspoken challenge with the less titled man in front of you.
His question goes unanswered, but he continues nodding to you, “I believe the Lady makes a very agreeable point, sir. You speak entirely of your horse and nothing else, this would bore any with a brain in the ton.”
You almost would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked. What exactly was the Viscount doing? You hardly ever spoke other than short introductions and nods exchanged while you were in the company of his sister and your friend, Eloise.
But there was not a moment to think on this further as the scene that was forming around you was all too captivating. Mr. Hastings, who it should be mentioned once more felt so prideful of his horse, can be seen visibly shrinking shoulder hunching forward slumping as if he were a little boy who lost a game. He clears his throat, “Well then, I shall take my conversation elsewhere.”
Before he could turn to leave the eldest Bridgerton son stops him, “Sir, you have forgotten to apologize to the Lady,”
Mr. Hasting freezes in his place turning to eye the man and you bite your lip fighting the laugh that threatens to erupt at the odious man whose eyes widen and mouth becomes agape like a fish out of water.
“My apologies,” the words seem to clog at his throat and so he says nothing else. Nodding, “Lord Bridgerton...” and your name before meekly making his way through the crowd, his head down avoiding the gazes of the onlookers.
At this point most of the ton had gone back to their conversations around you, though there were still some lingering eyes as the dance floor had been oddly shaped as you and the Viscount remained standing in part of the appointed area. Anthony notices this and leads you further into the crowd.
Once he finds an agreeable spot he stops turning towards you, “I actually do wish to counter your statement, my lady,” he begins. You expect for a moment to be met with some stern lecture from a man who seems to think he’s entitled to an opinion of you as if he were your father (who you also do not think should have an opinion, but alas it is only 1814). Anthony surprises you however as instead he grins and says, “I actually believe Mr. Hastings would marry his horse if the Queen would allow it.”
And you couldn’t help but laugh, despite all your pride and pettiness to not grace this event or anyone in it with any pleasurable countenance. You laughed loudly tilting your head back, jeweled neck on display even letting out a small snort against your will. When you finally compose yourself, giggles dying down at the thought of Mr. Hastings in a horrid muddy green suit with a horse in a wedding dress, you can’t fight the smile that falls on your lips. Although unnatural to you, the light hearted joke and your vivid imagination make it easy. It lasts for a few seconds before you become very conscious of it as you let your lips fall back to their usual place.
Though if anyone was truly looking for it— which Anthony was— they would see the slight quirk in your lips as you told the Viscount, “It looks like you’ve gained the honor of making me laugh, Mr. Bridgerton.”
“I relish the title, my lady,” he says and you can tell he does from the smile that meets his ears, all teeth and pushed back cheeks. You acknowledge that this might be the realest encounter you have had since your debut. Anthony Bridgerton smiling from ear to ear was a sight to see.
He continues, “But I do have to disagree with the comments I have been hearing tonight. Smile or no smile you present the ladies looking to wed this season with quite the competition.”
“Me? Hardly, did you not hear my Lord, my countenance would never get me a marriage proposal,” you say fiddling with the hem of your gloves at your wrist.
“I would disagree, I think any reasonable man in attendance would be foolish to not see how incomparable you are, my lady.”
Incomparable.
You fight it like you had once your laugh, but you feel the heat spread to your cheeks and the nerves that begin to twist in your stomach. You didn’t need it, but the compliment was well appreciated after a night such as this one.
Giving you no time to compose the fluttering in your chest, Anthony adds, “Any lady who manages to be bold enough to tell Mr. Hasting how insufferable his horse talk is, ranks high in my book.”
“Well you might be the only one, sir,” you try to be as brave as you feel and dare to smile at him, but his gaze causes you to look away bashfully. That is when you notice your mother approaching and wishing not to make a fool in front of the Viscount you excuse yourself, “I do believe my mother has just been informed of the scene I have caused, so if you’ll excuse me.”
But before you can turn to go he calls out your name placing his warm bare hand on your own gloved fingers making you turn back to him.
“Would you save me a dance?”
And despite yourself, Anthony Bridgerton manages again to make you smile, “Of course”.
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feralghoulie · 2 days
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Note: First fic on Tumblr, Wahoo! Participating in Ghoulcy week. May 20-26, 2024. Credit to @GhoulcyWeek on twt for promps!
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MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT.
Prompt: Forced proximity (Day 1)
Summary: Trapped in quite a small closet. The Ghoul takes advantage of his situation. Ravishing the looks of Lucy in her blue Vault Suit.
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Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) X Lucy Maclean
Slick Blue Suit.
The stomping of boots was heard right outside the barely closed closet. Raiders squatting in the house you two had stumbled upon.
The closet was unbelievably cramped. The ghouls back against the wall, his hand held tight over Lucy's mouth. His opposite hand holding her tight to his body, her ass perfectly fitting into the shape of his crotch.
The ghoul knew he could very easily wipe the Raiders out with just a few shots. Lucy herself questioned why he didn't jump out. Guns blazing.Though he couldn't pass up the opportunity to grind his hard cock against her blue leather suit.
God did he fucking love the way her suit hugged every single one of her curves. Watching with still breath every single time she bent over. Anytime she had managed to hold off a raider or two, even just stomping on radroaches. Every single move she made, made his cock twitch.
Every thought he had. Filthy. Deep desire to ruin her smooth skin. Her sheltered mind. Holding back every single urge to drive his cock deep into her hardly touched, tight pussy. Absolutely destroying her sense of innocence.
Playing out in his mind, his scarred fingers pressing the pallette of her tongue. Gagging her as his fingers slide through her slick folds. Hearing her beg for more, knowing he was corrupting her sweet mind.
"What a dirty little girl you are, huh? Imagine what your dad would think. His little girl gettin ruined by such an old disgusting man like me." Her pussy tensing from his words.
His mind was quickly interrupted by the sudden sound of rapid creaking floor boards. More Raiders had entered the room.
Subconsciously he had been grinding up against Lucy's ass. She had tried to adjust from the tight grip he had on her, but was too scared to make sound.
He didn't care if the Raiders would bust open the closet. He could handle them. As long as she thinks she's in danger, he could get away with taking advantage of her.
Listening to the conversations of the Raiders, hoping they moved just a little further.. he grew impatient. Slipping his gloved leather fingers into her mouth.
She tried to make a disapproved squeak, but was too scared to alert them. He pressed his bloody leather fingers flat against her tongue. Pushing them very slowly back. Just enough to not let her gag.
She didn't attempt to bite down. Just still, trying not to make noise.
He adjusted the hand that held her close. Cautious, he managed his belt. Trying to undo the buckle. Undoing the button, and slowly rolling down the zipper. Slipping his pants partially down, he sighed in her ear.
He freed his aching hard cock, and pressed it directly against her blue suit. Cold against his warm flushed shaft.
She lightly bit down on his finger, not enough to cause pain. More so to alert him to stop. He didn't abide. Leaning into the shell of her ear.
"I suggest you don't act rash. Don't want to alert them, do ya?" He said in a low whisper.
She shook her head in defeat.
"Good. Now you're gonna take this. Whether you fuckin want it or not. And I'm sure ya do. I see the way you look at me out in that wasteland Vaultie."
He said grinding his hips against her ass. His cock rubbing against the meat of her ass and the arch of her back.
"I bet I make ya quite wet. Watchin me choke those men? Hm?" He said rutting his leaking cock faster. His fingers exploring her mouth.
"You don't know a single fuckin thing about this wasteland... I'll teach ya. This is rule number one honey."
He said removing his fingers from her mouth. Both his hands grabbing at her waste. Giving himself a better angle.
"I always get what I fuckin want." He drew out slowly. His voice so low it drew out a deeper southern accent.
Precum dripped down her backside. Giving him a wet friction. Holding back his groans, his straining his breath tickled her ear.
Her thoughts were spiraling. So morally conflicted with herself she felt emotionless. Her body felt like it was on fire. The way he held her sent waves of pleasure through out her body. Being used like this was something she never expected to enjoy. Paired with the fact that if they were caught, she would more than likely be the one hurt.
She couldn't focus on one thing. His voice was sending shocks through her soaked pussy, while the Raiders were sending panic through her heart. All she could do was focus on silence.
The ghoul could feel his release building up. Biting down on his lip to hold back curses. His grinding thrusts were becoming sloppy. His breath unstable in her ear.
As he felt himself reach his peak, he held her hips tight against him. Shooting massive ropes of cum against her back. Sliding down slowly as they set. He rubbed his cock in his own mess. His shaft effortlessly sliding around.
Letting go of her waist, he took a swift wipe of his load, and brushed it against her tongue. Forcing her to taste his spend. Twisting and pressing his finger inside her mouth.
Leaning into her ear, he whispered.
"You're in for a world of trouble sweetheart. I ain't letting this sweet of a girl go."
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bredforloyalty · 1 year
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woke up in a cold sweat after dreaming that rcg became infinitely more cringe
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my favourite thing about sally jackson is how she's stayed such a romantic her whole life despite what she's gone through and nobody talks about it. she sacrificed her years of school so that she could take care of her dying uncle. she was deserted by poseidon after having his kid. she sacrificed the next few decade or so of her life taking care of percy and was repeatedly abused and put down by gabe, all while struggling to become educated, even though gabe disapproved of it. majority of her life was wasted away for the sake of other men. but she put in the work, went to college and became an author who writes romance books. she supports and roots for percy and annabeth's love and is not strict on them at all. she started a new family. she reclaimed the part of her that was a dreamer and was young to pursue her dreams, even at an age where moms are usually expected to retire.
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f0point5 · 29 days
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i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body
Me too! GOD. Me, too.
It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!
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✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨
Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush
Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.
You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.
This guy must be really fucking interesting.
You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.
It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.
It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.
“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”
GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”
Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”
Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”
Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.
“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.
“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”
Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.
“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.
“Max,” GP sighs.
“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”
GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”
“I’m not jealous.”
And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.
Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”
You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.
“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.
GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”
You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.
“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.
Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.
“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.
The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.
“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”
“My what?”
“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.
He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.
Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.
He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?
He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.
“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.
He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.
“Right, so,”
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astrow1zar6 · 5 months
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Astro Observations-014
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If you wanna date someone who’s basically impossible to get to know date a Scorpio moon. I find they really don’t trust anyone. Not even close friends that have known them for years. Any sign of betrayal even if it’s small will cause this sign to never tell you certain things again. You guys need to realize not everyone is trying to hurt you.
A lot of Scorpio Venus’s/mars grew up seeing a lot of jealousy & manipulation from relationship’s (mostly from family) they normally pick up from this and carries it to their relationships.
Libra placements will flirt with people they have no interest in for attention. They break a lot of hearts. They act like they aren’t aware they do it but they definitely are. Y’all can’t mess with ppls feeling like that 😕
Aquarius sun women are either really popular and social or really outcasted and antisocial
Aquarius moons can be really mean when people become too emotional around them. I believe tho ironically this is the most emotional Aquarius placement. They hate dealing with others emotions because their emotions are so deep themselves that dealing with other’s problems can become too overwhelming.
Pisces risings are so secretive about their romantic relationships (Libra in 8th house) most people never know who they’re dating or talking too. They prefer a private love life.
Aquarius Venus’s are fashion icons. They can make some of the weirdest pieces look so expensive
Sagittarius and Geminis are the most compatible pair of opposites imo. I’ve seen these signs stay together for soooo long
Leo moons have the least confidence out of all the leo placements I noticed. They are really sensitive and the smallest ounce of disapproval can break these people. Be gentle with them plz🥺
Virgo suns all look so clean, they also smell like heaven too (ESPECIALLY with a Leo Venus) they all give princess vibes.
People with a 12th house taurus value stability sooo much but can never seem to settle their restless nature. This is one of their biggest challenges (cuz of their Gemini rising)
Whatever element you lack in your chart you’re more likely to find people that have that element. Ex: if you lack water placements, you’ll be more attracted to water dominants because they give you what you lack in a way.
Capricorn risings usually hate their smiles, even if there’s nothing wrong with it. A lot feel like their smile ruins their face.
When you have a lot of 12th house placements people normally make assumptions about you that aren’t even close to who you actually are.
Pisces men are the most confusing in a relationship you never know if they actually like you or not. They are so charming and lovey but deep down it feels kinda fake?
Taurus mars work the best when they are working with their hands or they’re working in nature
Virgo mercury’s are amazing writers and usually love reading. Many can be successful novelists.
I feel like the least compatible compatible signs are Taurus and Virgo. I’ve seen the spark die so quick in these relationships and they normally stay together because it “works” practically. But I notice they get more irritated with each-other as time goes.
I notice men that have a lot of kids from different women have a Jupiter in their 5th house. Or just a lot of 5th house placements.
Venus in 5th housers tend to have more girls than boys. Their first child was probably a girl. Also indicates very attractive children.
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mommypieck · 7 months
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𑄽୧ glory hole with eren & jean𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 31: who's pussy is this!!!
✿ eren yeager x reader x jean kirstein
✿ warnings: sex clubs, p in v, glory hole, eren & jean treat u like a pocket pussy
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The music in the club is loud, and you have to talk loudly to even hear one another. Eren and Jean laugh in their booth, watching a new dancer struggle on the stage.
She's cute, her small body moving in adorable ways, but they both know she's inexperienced. They have seen all of the good dancers in this club, bending their bodies in a way they didn't think was possible.
"What are my regulars doing here?" a familiar voice interrupts their entertainment. They notice Connie, the owner, standing by their boot with a sly smile. They both fist-bump him, just like they used to do in high school. Connie has always wanted to own a club, and he knew that once he had it, his friends would be coming in every week.
"We installed something new last week," Connie tells both of the men. Jean's eyebrows shoot up while Eren asks Connie what's the new thing. Their friend just smiles, telling them to go look into the basement.
"No way, man. I don't wanna get murdered." Jean huffs, he's scared of the basement. Connie once took him in, and it was the scariest experience in his life, talking about the amount of spider webs.
"If you go, you're not going to regret it," Connie says. Some girl comes up to him, wrapping herself around Connie's body. He smiles at her, kissing the top of her breast.
"I'm busy." he mouths at them before letting himself be taken to the side by the foreign girl.
"Man, I really wanna see the basement," Eren says, drowning the rest of his whiskey. Connie is a smart man when it comes to sex stuff, and he wants to know what he came up with. Maybe he installed some toys that fuck girls in front of people.
Jean groans in disapproval but decides to give it a shot. He quickly swallows his glass, the burning liquor always bringing tears to his eyes.
They both stand up, and Eren leads the way to the basement. It's a lot tidier than before, and there are even posters on the way down. There's only one door unlocked, probably the door the surprise is in.
They stare with wide eyes at a hole in the wall. There's a sign next to it saying 'fuck here'.
"He's not normal," Jean exclaims. They both know what it is. Connie installed a glory hole just for the two of them.
"Is anyone inside?" Eren calls out, making Jean punch him in the arm. Eren chuckles at his joke, it was a good one, wasn't it?
"You're a dumbass." Jean scolds him, coming closer to examine the hole.
The first thing he notices is a pussy peeking through the hole. It's a pretty pussy, all pink with a cute clit between juice pussy lips. It seems like it's already wet. He brushes his fingers against the folds, noting that it's already wet.
You jump when someone touches your pussy. You heard what seemed like two men come into the room. Connie promised that they were his friends and they needed some fun. You volunteer to work in his club, loving sex too much.
Another hand caresses your slit, this hand is rougher than the first one. The first one was rough but delicate at the same time. He was being gentle with you, but on the other hand, had one goal - to make you fall apart.
"Who's gonna fuck her first?" you hear one voice ask, you aren't sure about which hand belongs to that owner.
"You really wanna fuck her?" the other voice asks, the other person is more hesitant. Maybe he doesn't wanna fuck you, even though you want to be fucked.
"Yes, I do, jean. It's a free pussy." you hear one of them chuckle. You hear the guy unbuckle his belt, and you almost shake him in anticipation.
You're nervous, this is something you wanted for so long. sweat rises on your forehead as you finally see a dick poking through the hole. It's so close, but still so far.
His tip rubs against your opening, carefully pushing inside of you.
"Shit, she's too tight." Eren moans, sinking the rest of his cock inside of your pussy. He never had a pussy this tight in his entire life. You're sucking him right in. He feels bad that he can't see the owner of this delicious pussy. His arms brace on the wall separating you from him and Jean. Sweet little moans leave your mouth with every thrust he makes, making Eren laugh.
"She's a moaner." he mocks you, deepening his thrusts. He's pretty sure you can take a lot more than what he has to give you, but he's trying to be generous with you.
"Fuck, I won't be able to last long." he moans, speeding his thrusts so he can catch his orgasm. He doesn't care that you won't cum, you're only a hole for him.
You know he's about to cum, and you try to clench down on his cock even more. He has a nice cock, big enough to satisfy you. You yelp when his hot cum fills your body. You just wish you could see how much leaks out.
"You stretched her out too much for me." Jean rolls his eyes, showing Eren to the side so he can take his place. A slutty moan rips through him when he pushes himself all the way in. It's tight, unbelievably tight. You just took a big cock, but your pussy feels like a virgin's.
"She's good, isn't she?" Eren smirks, his cock hardening again as he watches his best friend pump his cock inside of you. Jean can only nod, your pussy left him speechless.
Connie is a dumbass, but something he has fucking good ideas.
Your body moves up and down with every stroke of his cock. This one is different, he's slower, but he makes sure to hit your insides as deep as possible. He's also a bit fatter than the first cock. You just wish it's the "gentle hands' s" dick.
You feel yourself being slowly tipped over the edge of your high. You cum around his cock, squeezing even tighter. It catches him off guard, and he can do nothing else then cum right inside of you.
"What was that?" he breathes as he tries to get over the orgasm he just had. Eren laughs next to him, "Seems like you made our fuck doll cum."
Both men dress themselves up again, fixing their appearance before going upstairs to the club.
Connie is already waiting for them with a girl wrapped around his body. He wears a cheeky smile.
"You look like you enjoyed it," he says, making you stand in front of him before wrapping his arms around your middle and putting his chin on your shoulder, "Y/n here sure had a lot of fun with you too."
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2K notes · View notes
mistydeyes · 8 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Task Force 141 and a reader that they never have seen out of uniform until one day they all go to a bar but the reader is late? Next thing they know the reader walks up to them dressed like they just walked straight out of the 2000’s?
(if you end up doing this request: thank you so much! I absolutely luv your writing!!)
thank you so much for requesting! i literally am in love with 2000's fashion like you'll be seeing me walking with low-cut jeans and a baby tee fr
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summary: After a tiring mission, the 141 invites you to drink away the night at the pub. However, you get into a lively argument about fashion when they question your choice in 2000's inspired attire.
pairings: taskforce 141 x platonic!gn!reader (codename: Storm)
warnings: swearing, slight bullying (they fr just don't understand fashion)
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"Didn't we tell Storm half-past eight?" Gaz asked, looking down at his watch. The pub was nearly empty as the men continued to add glass after glass to a growing pile. Despite reminding you with a string of texts, you still haven't made an appearance. "Still don't get why they had to change," Soap continued, choking down another drink, "Lt's still wearing his goddamn mask." The group laughed as their attention was directed to Ghost, still wearing his signature face mask. "They probably wanted a shower and some fresh trousers," Price commented and the rest of the group returned to a more interesting conversation.
As the group laughed at Soap recounting Ghost's out-of-character dialogue in Las Almas, their gaze fell on the pub's door as it swung open. The group smiled at the familiar face and gestured you over. You walked to the table quickly, feeling the attention in the empty pub. At first, you thought it was due to your late entrance but when you approached, you saw all eyes focused on your attire. It was like you walked out of the 2000s or robbed a Delias before your arrival. You felt a little self-conscious at the confused looks and wondered what all the fuzz was about. "What? Do I have a stain?" you questioned as you dusted off your low-cut, denim jeans. "No, it's just-" Gaz began to say but Soap interjected. "Why do you dress like that?" he asked and you raised an eyebrow. You looked down at your jeans and Von Dutch top. "But I normally dress like this?" you said with a curious tone. You dressed like this before joining the military and held on to the lively aesthetic of the early 2000s. You were embarrassed to admit but Britney Spears and *NSYNC were your fashion icons.
"Yeah," Ghost spoke up as he eyed the interesting font of your shirt, "you look like you could be an extra in a Spice Girls video." You rolled your eyes, grabbing at one of the half-drunk glasses on the table. "You've been quiet, Captain," you edged while looking at him, "what do you think?" There was a hush over the room as you waited in anticipation. "Clothes are clothes," he simply replied and the table roared with laughter. "Such a grandad thing to say," Soap loudly exclaimed and everyone clambered with sentiments of agreement. "Sorry I don't wear Wrangler jeans and black fitness tops," you mumbled. It was a subtle jab at your colleagues but Gaz took it to heart. "I have style!" he shouted as you shook your head in disapproval.
"Gaz, you look like someone trying to emulate an Instagram model or some teenager's Pinterest board," you argued and you were met by the howling of the tipsy men. "And Captain, I'm sorry but you look like a father going on holiday to the Swiss Alps," you directed towards Price as everyone realized this was becoming an insult fueled rage. Soap was still laughing wildly, shaking his head in agreement with your every word. "Oh you shouldn't be laughing, Soap," you said as you turned to him, "a navy blue sweater and black jeans are a fashion crime." He quickly turned red and looked embarrassed as he examined the mismatched colors. Everyone held their breath as you turned to Ghost. "And Lt," you paused, thinking of what you should say next, "you dress like you've never heard of color."
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moonstruckme · 9 months
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I feel like Poly!marauders are sooo caring so maybe a dynamic where the reader is like an overly-insependent person and is not used to this kind of care and affection. Maybe it is reader’s first relationship so they have a hard time with the concept of leaning to others for support. Thank you in advance love!
Lmao this came wayyy too easily because I've definitely done all of these things! Thanks for requesting lovely <3
modern au
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
"Where you headed off to, gorgeous?" Sirius looks up from his laptop as you step into your shoes.
"Grocery store," you say. "I'm thinking of making souffle tonight, would you want some?"
"Yeah, that sounds great." He grins at you in that way of his, and you know he knows your knees just went wobbly. "Want a lift?"
"Thanks, but the bus goes almost directly there."
Remus looks up from his book with eyebrows already furrowed in disapproval. "It's nearly dark out, love. You shouldn't be walking around by yourself this late."
You roll your eyes. Men. "I can handle myself, been doing it for years," you say as reassuringly as you can, slipping out the door before either of them can argue with you further. "I'll be back soon!"
You keep a hand close to the rape alarm attached to your bag as you maneuver your way through the shadowy streets. You've been tired since you woke up that morning, so a ride would have been nice, sure, but you don't want to become one of those girlfriends who relies on her boyfriends for everything. That was your biggest concern with getting into a relationship: losing the sense of self-reliance you've cultivated over your life. You don't need help from anyone, even if the big, strong men think you do. You huff a laugh to yourself.
The grocery shopping goes quick, soon you're back at your own front door. Sirius and Remus are almost exactly as you left them, both curled up on the couch, but now James is home from the gym. You know this, because he apprehends you as soon as you walk through the door, hair wet from the shower and dripping on your paper grocery bags as he attempts to take them from you.
"I've got them," you laugh, dodging him.
James gives chase. "You're carrying three! Let me take a couple."
"I can handle it." You kick at his ankle playfully, sniffling.
He pauses, and you take the opportunity to whisk the bags into the kitchen, setting them on the counter victoriously. "You feeling alright, sweetheart?" he asks.
"Yeah." You wave him off. "It's just chilly outside. Go relax, I'm about to start dinner."
James pouts but goes, flopping dramatically over the side of the couch. His head lands in Sirius' lap, and the other boy starts combing his fingers through the tangles of James' wet hair absentmindedly. Satisfied, you start setting out the ingredients you'll need, but a moment later Remus materializes beside you.
"You've been running around all day," he says. "Let me make dinner. You go relax."
"I don't mind," you say, slightly affronted. "I can handle dinner."
"Baby," Sirius pipes up, turning to look at you over the couch, "just let him do it. Take a—" he stops as you sneeze. "Are you sick?"
"No," you sniffle. "I don't think so."
Before you can move away, Remus has a hand on your forehead. "You're warm!" he says, in the same tone as one might say You're killing people and burying them in our backyard! A bit dramatic, in your opinion.
"Oh," you say, covering your face with your elbow as you sneeze again.
"Aw, angel," James says, your sole ally as Remus and Sirius look at you accusingly, as though they suspect you've been keeping this from them on purpose. Which....to be fair, isn't outside the realm of possibility. "Come sit with us, let us take care of you."
"Go," Remus says, moving his hand to the back of your neck and pursing his lips at whatever he feels there. "I'll make dinner, and some tea for you, yeah?"
You shake your head. "That's alright, I can—"
"Don't say you can handle it."
You huff, but it's clear you're not going to win this one. You go to the couch, where James accepts you with eager arms.
"Our poor girl," he coos, kissing every inch of your cheek sloppily. "Fuck, you are warm. You just need to take some time to rest, yeah?"
You sniffle grouchily, but Sirius pokes at your side, eliciting an unwilling snicker. "You could stand to let us help you out every now and then," he says, already seeming less upset with you. You suspect you have your illness to thank for that.
"I can take care of myself," you argue, but the fight is going out of you as you finally give into the cold you maybe sort of knew was coming on all day.
"We know you can, dove," Remus chimes in from the kitchen. "And that's what you've always done, but letting us take care of you sometimes isn't going to suddenly make you helpless, either." He shoots you a knowing look, too perceptive for his own good. And yours, apparently.
You sneeze again, jerking away from James so you don't spray on him. You feel disgusting, and pathetically vulnerable. Is this what they want you to succumb to? "I don't want to get too used to this," you say, voice small as you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve, "and forget how to manage without your help."
Each of your boyfriends, even Remus, softens like butter in the sun.
"Baby." Sirius wraps an arm around you, looking at you with eyes so soft you feel like you could cry. "You won't forget. You're tough, and that's not gonna change just because you let us do some things for you, yeah?"
You look at your lap, contemplating. He's not not making sense. The idea of accepting help is so unfamiliar to you, it feels like a betrayal of your core values. But you love Sirius, and Remus, and James, and if what they want is to help you, maybe you can try to let them. Some of the time, at least.
Sirius curls a finger under your jaw, his thumb resting on your chin as he tilts your face up to his. He must see the concession in your eyes, because he smiles softly. It's almost an apology, and you know that he's aware of how difficult this is for you to give up.
"You're gonna have to get used to this, sweet thing," he says lightly, pressing a kiss to your overwarm forehead. "Because we're not letting you go."
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16woodsequ · 8 months
Text
100 Asexual Books Rec List
For this list the goal is fiction books with a main character or significant secondary character that is on the Asexual spectrum, or non-fiction books about being Aspec.
Junior Novels
1. Rick by Alex Gino An eleven year old boy starting middle school begins discovering his asexuality admist the school's rainbow spectrum club. Also features transgender and crossdressing side characters, as well as a LGBTQIAP+ supporting cast.
2. Sal & Gabi Break the Universe by Carlos Alberto Pablo Hernandez In order to heal after his mother's death, Sal learned how to meditate. But no one expected him to be able to take it further and 'relax' things into existence. Turns out he can reach into time and space to retrieve things from other universes. Asexual Sal.
3. Hazel's Theory of Evolution by Lisa Jenn Bigelow Hazel knows a lot about the world. But even Hazel doesn't have answers for the questions awaiting her as she enters eighth grade. What if no one at her new school gets her, and she doesn't make any friends? What's going to happen to one of her moms, who's pregnant again after having two miscarriages? Why does everything have to change when life was already perfectly fine? Hazel (main character) is asexual and aromantic (it isn't said in the book, but it is specified in the author's note at the back of the book).
4. The Trouble with Robots by Michelle Mohrweis Evelyn strives for excellence. Allie couldn't care less. Together, these polar opposites must work together if they have any hope of saving their school's robotics program. Allie is asexual and/or aromantic. Junior graphic novel.
5. This is Our Rainbow by Editors Katherine Locke and Nicole Melleby Featuring contributions from Eric Bell, Katherine Locke and A.J. Sass, this first LGBTQA+ anthology for middle-grade readers presents stories of queer fantasy, historical and contemporary stories for every letter of the acronym.
6. Every Bird a Prince by Jenn Reese After she saves the life of a bird prince and becomes their champion, seventh grader Eren Evers must defend a forest kingdom, save her mom, and keep the friendships she holds dear--if she is brave enough to embrace her inner truths. Eren is aromantic (and I'm guessing asexual, though that isn't discussed).
YA Fiction
7. When Villains Rise by Rebecca Schaeffer With her best friend, Kovit's, life in danger, Nita is determined to take down the black market once and for all. Latina asexual and aromantic main character (Nita).
8. The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee Henry "Monty" Montague was bred to be a gentleman. His passions for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men, have earned the disapproval of his father. His quest for pleasures and vices have led to one last hedonistic hurrah as Monty, his best friend and crush Percy, and Monty's sister Felicity begin a Grand Tour of Europe. When a reckless decision turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt, it calls into question everything Monty knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores. Aro/ace secondary character (prequel to a Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy).
9. The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee A year after an accidentally whirlwind grand tour with her brother Monty, Felicity Montague has returned to England with two goals in mind—avoid the marriage proposal of a lovestruck suitor from Edinburgh and enroll in medical school. A highly loved book in regards to asexual portrayal, Felicity’s journey does a fantastic job of exploring the struggle of navigating a world where marriage is expected of women in order to function in society. Even more refreshing is Felicity isn’t just avoiding getting married out of a sole rebellion against the patriarchy (though those themes are also present), but simply because she doesn’t have an interest in sexual or romantic relationships at all.
10. Silver in the Mist by Emily Victoria Asexual Devlin has grown up in the shadow of her mother’s impressive spy network—and the shadow of the kingdom, too. A magical mist is eating away at their borders, weakening their magic and making them vulnerable to attacks. Devlin is tasked with infiltrating the royal court of the wealthier neighboring kingdom, but when she befriends their most powerful magic wielder, she discovers an ancient mystery that may hold the key to defeating the mists for good. Victoria prioritizes strong friendships between queer characters and an examination of wealth disparity in this fantasy full of twists and turns.
11. Not Good for Maidens by Tori Bovalino Beneath the streets of York, the goblin market calls to the Wickett women-the family of witches that tends to its victims. For generations, they have defended the old cobblestone streets with their magic. Knowing the dangers, they never entered the market-until May Wickett fell for a goblin girl, accepted her invitation, and became inextricably tied to the world her family tried to protect her from. Told through dual narratives in different timelines, the book essentially has two protagonists: Lou and May. Between these two characters, we have some great queer representation for both asexuality and bisexuality.
12. A Snake Falls to Earth by Darcie Little Badger Themes of magic, family, asexuality, and traditional storytelling dominate in Lipan Apache author Darcie Little Badger's delightful and uplifting second YA novel. A Lipan girl named Nina collides with Oli who is from the land of spirits and monsters. But some people will do anything to keep them apart. This is a wholesome, elegantly written read guaranteed to warm your heart! 
13. Arden Grey by Ray Stoeve Arden Grey is a novel about different kinds of abusive relationships, as well as the strength of family and friendships. Following her parents' separation, Arden is depressed and coming to accept herself as being on the asexual spectrum.
14. It Sounds Like This by Anna Meriano Yasm Trevi didn't have much of a freshman year thanks to Hurricane Humphrey, but she's ready to take sophomore year by storm. That means mastering the marching side of marching band--fast!--so she can outshine her BFF Sofia as top of the flute section, earn first chair, and impress both her future college admission boards and her comfortably unattainable drum major crush Gilberto Reyes. But Yasm steps off on the wrong foot when she reports an anonymous gossip Instagram account harassing new band members and accidentally gets the entire low brass section suspended from extracurriculars. Rep: Biracial Latina fat asexual-questioning cis female MC, Jewish gray-aromantic gray-asexual male side character with ADHD and APD.
15. One for All by Lillie Lainoff In 1655 sixteen-year-old Tania is the daughter of a retired musketeer, but she is afflicted with extreme vertigo and subject to frequent falls; when her father is murdered she finds that he has arranged for her to attend Madame de Treville's newly formed Acadaemie des Mariées in Paris, which, it turns out, is less a school for would-be wives, than a fencing academy for girls--and so Tania begins her training to be a new kind of musketeer, and to get revenge for her father. Rep: disability, asexuality, sapphic side characters, POTS and PTSD.
16. The State of Us by Shaun David Hutchinson When Dean Arnault’s mother decided to run for president, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone, least of all her son. But still that doesn’t mean Dean wants to be part of the public spectacle that is the race for the White House—at least not until he meets Dre. The only problem is that Dre Rosario’s on the opposition; he’s the son of the Democratic nominee. In a moment of solidarity and high emotions, Dean tells Dre that he has been questioning his sexual orientation. He isn’t sure if he’s asexual or demisexual. Dre puts a messaging app on Dean’s phone so they can stay in touch.
17. Scavenge the Stars by Tara Sim When Amaya rescues a mysterious stranger from drowning, she fears her rash actions have earned her a longer sentence on the debtor ship where she’s been held captive for years. Instead, the man she saved offers her unimaginable riches and a new identity, setting Amaya on a perilous course through the coastal city-state of Moray, where old-world opulence and desperate gamblers collide. Amaya wants one thing: revenge against the man who ruined her family and stole the life she once had. Desi, demisexual female protagonist. 
18. Camp by Lev AC Rosen It’s Randy’s fifth year at Camp Outland, a camp where queer teens get a chance to be themselves. Hoping to win over Hudson’s heart—who’s masc and straight passing and only seems to date other guys like himself—Randy has spent the past year reinventing himself: workout regimen, new haircut, new carefully curated wardrobe. His friends and camp counsellor all think it’s a terrible idea, but what can they do but support him anyways?
19. Little Thieves by Margaret Owen Once upon a time, the daughter of death and fortune was a teenage girl and she was the worst. Little Thieves is, as the dedication says, for the gremlin girls, never has there been a more gremlin girl than Vanja Schmidt. A brilliant and brazen swindler, Vanja could give Kaz Brekker a run for his money. But Vanja has bigger fish to fry. As her body rapidly turns into the gemstones she craves, Vanja must put things right and face her greed head on all while juggling her engagement to a terrible margrave, an investigator with his own magic, and the princess whose face she stole. Vanja’s relationship with junior prefect Emeric could not be more demisexual if it tried, with both sides of the romance experiencing asexual spectrum existence in different and complimentary ways. One part Germanic fairytale, one part ensemble heist, Little Thieves is an unhinged romp of a book.
20. Everyone Hates Kelsie Miller by Meredith Ireland Rom-coms and the asexuality spectrum...two great things that go great together. Kelsie and Eric have been competing against each other their whole lives. But desperation forces them to work together. Kelsie’s best friend stopped talking to her and Eric wants to rekindle his relationship with his ex-girlfriend, and since both will be at UPenn at the same time, Eric and Kelsie decide to go on a road trip together. Sparks fly.
21. You Don't Have a Shot by Racquel Marie Valentina "Vale" Castillo-Green's life revolves around soccer. Her friends, her future, and her father's intense expectations are all wrapped up in the beautiful game. But after she incites a fight during playoffs with her long-time rival, Leticia Ortiz, everything she's been working toward seems to disappear. Queer asexual biracial (Colombian, Irish) protagonist.
22. Foul Lady Fortune by Chloe Gong In 1931 Shanghai, two Nationalist spies pose as a married couple to investigate a series of brutal murders causing unrest in the city. Rep: demisexual Chinese protagonist, bisexual Chinese protagonist, bisexual Chinese main character, Chinese trans woman main character, aromantic asexual side character; (Chinese-Kiwi author).
23. The Spy with the Red Ballon by Katherine Locke Siblings Ilse and Wolf hide a deep secret in their blood: with it, they can work magic. And the government just found out. Blackmailed into service during World War II, Ilse lends her magic to America’s newest weapon, the atom bomb, while Wolf goes behind enemy lines to sabotage Germany’s nuclear program. It’s a dangerous mission, but if Hitler were to create the bomb first, the results would be catastrophic. Gay demisexual Jewish protagonist.
24. Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria Cassa, the orphaned daughter of rebels, and friends Alys, Evander, and Newt, fight back against the high council of Eldra, which has ruled for centuries based solely on ancient prophesies. Alys, an apothecary-in-training and the level-headed one of the crew. She identifies as asexual.
25. Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia Eighteen-year-old Eliza Mirk is the anonymous creator of the wildly popular webcomic Monstrous Sea, but when a new boy at school tempts her to live a life offline, everything she's worked for begins to crumble. Asexual main character, not explicitly stated in the book.
26. Technically, You Started It by Lana Wood Johnson When a guy named Martin Nathaniel Munroe II texts you, it should be obvious who you're talking to. Except there's two of them (it's a long story), and Haley thinks she's talking to the one she doesn't hate. Demisexual main character.
27. Now Entering Addamsville by Francesca Zappia Zora Novak is framed for a crime she didn't commit--in a town obsessed with ghosts, will she be able to find the culprit and clear her name before it's too late? It's a brief mention, but Zora is ace.
28. Fully Disclosure by Camryn Garrett In a community that isn’t always understanding, an HIV-positive teen must navigate fear, disclosure, and radical self-acceptance when she falls in love–and lust–for the first time. One of Simone’s best friends in the book, Claudia, is an asexual lesbian. The unwavering support she gives to Simone is heartwarming, and she is also openly sex-positive—which flips the script on its head regarding what most people would assume of asexual people.
30. The Art of Saving the World by Corinne Duyvis When Hazel Stanczak was born, an interdimensional rift tore open near her family’s home, which prompted immediate government attention. They soon learned that if Hazel strayed too far, the rift would become volatile and fling things from other dimensions onto their front lawn—or it could swallow up their whole town. Hazel Stanczak identifies as asexual, though she spends time in the book questioning it. The book presents a unique way to show that there is not one single way to be asexual—that it exists on a spectrum and can look different for each person.
31. Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann Alice had her whole summer planned. Non-stop all-you-can-eat buffets while marathoning her favorite TV shows (best friends totally included) with the smallest dash of adulting–working at the library to pay her share of the rent. The only thing missing from her perfect plan? Her girlfriend (who ended things when Alice confessed she’s asexual). Alice is done with dating–no thank you, do not pass go, stick a fork in her, done. Alice is a biromantic and asexual black woman who starts off very confident in her identity as asexual, yet has experiences that have her questioning her orientation and how to talk about it.
32. In the Ravenous Dark by AdriAnne Strickland A pansexual blood mage reluctantly teams up with an undead spirit to start a rebellion among the living and the dead. This book features Japha, an asexual nonbinary character who serves as the best friend to the MC.
33. Seven Ways We Lie by Riley Redgate Life at Paloma High School is much like any other high school, with petty drama, judgmental assholes, and mind-numbing schoolwork. Until it isn’t. A scandal emerges: a student and teacher had an illicit affair. At the center of the scandal are seven teenagers, each with their own secrets, whose lives are transformed as a result of this scandal. One of the characters can be read as asexual (and possibly neurodiverse). He never explicitly labels himself as such, but the way he describes his experiences of [non-]attraction strongly point to him being on the ace spectrum.
34. Quicksilver by R. J. Anderson Tori thought she had left her past behind when she and her family started a new life in a new city. But then Sebastian Faraday reappears in her life to tell her that she’s not quite as safe as she thinks: the relay is still operating and a genetics lab is trying to track her down to figure out the secret behind her unusual biology. Tori is going to have to use all of her considerable technical expertise to escape her past and live the normal human life she’s always wanted to have. Asexual main character.
35. Hullmetal Girls by Emily Skrutskie Aisha Un-Haad, seventeen, and Key Tanaka, eighteen, have risked everything for new lives as mechanically enhanced soldiers, and when an insurrection forces dark secrets to surface, the fate of humanity is in their hands. In Hullmetal Girls, Aisha is not only ace/aro but she is also happy with her identity. Crucially, so is everyone else.
36. Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer Nita's mother hunts monsters and, after Nita dissects and packages them, sells them online, but when Nita follows her conscience to help a live monster escape, she is sold on the black market in his place. Aro/Ace main character
37. Before I Let Go by Marieke Nijkamp When Corey moves away from Lost Creek, Alaska, she makes her friend Kyra promise to stay strong during the long, dark winter, and wait for her return. Just days before Corey is to return home to visit, Kyra dies. The entire Lost community speaks in hushed tones, saying her death was meant to be. And they push Corey away like she's a stranger. With every hour, Corey's suspicion grows. Lost is keeping secrets-- but piecing together the truth about what happened to her best friend may prove as difficult as lighting the sky in an Alaskan winter. Aro/Ace main character.
38. If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann Winnie is living her best fat girl life and is on her way to the best place on earth. No, not Disneyland–her Granny’s diner, Goldeen’s, in the small town of Misty Haven. While there, she works in her fabulous 50’s inspired uniform, twirling around the diner floor and earning an obscene amount of tips. With her family and ungirlfriend at her side, she has everything she needs for one last perfect summer before starting college in the fall. …until she becomes Misty Haven’s Summer Queen in a highly anticipated matchmaking tradition that she wants absolutely nothing to do with. Aro/ace secondary character.
39. Dread Nation by Justina Ireland An alternate history where the Civil War was put on hold when zombies started to rise. Almost finished with her education at Miss Preston's School of Combat in Baltimore, Jane is set on returning to her Kentucky home and doesn't pay much mind to the politics of the eastern cities, with their talk of returning America to the glory of its days before the dead rose.But when families around Baltimore County begin to go missing, Jane is caught in the middle of a conspiracy, one that finds her in a desperate fight for her life against some powerful enemies. And the restless dead, it would seem, are the least of her problems. The word asexual is not used, but that fits with the setting, and the explanation goes into a fair amount of detail, also ruling out that she likes women instead.
40. Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson When her convent is attacked by possessed soldiers, Artemisia defends the Gray Sisters by awakening the revenant bound to a saint's relic, even though she runs the risk of being possessed permanently by the powerful ancient spirit. Non-explicit romantic asexual main character. Fantasy.
41. Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace A postapocalyptic ghosthunter escapes her dire fate by joining the ghost of a supersoldier on his quest to the underworld Aromantic asexual main character. Dark fantasy/dystopian.
42. Summer of Salt by Katrina Leno While anyone would love to have a bit of magic, what happens when magic turns dark? Georgina Fernweh will come into her magic someday soon. Before she does, Georgina faces a tragedy that tests the islanders' trust. In this book, Georgina’s best friend Vira is aroace, and it’s addressed somewhat in the story at different points. There is a sweet strength between Georgina and Vira, full of loyalty and support that is lovely to see.
43. The Summer of Bitter and Sweet by Jen Ferguson In this moving and complex narrative, Lou learns to draw boundaries, stand up for herself, all while coming to terms with her demisexuality.
44. The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow One-third of the human population has died and now the world is about to end. Ellie, a fat, Black, disabled, demisexual girl with access to an illegal library teams up with a music-loving alien to risk their lives to save the world.
45. The Grimrose Girls by Laura Pohl Pohl serves up a veritable smorgasbord of queer fairytale goodies in Grimrose Girls. This tale as old as time follows four students at the prestigious boarding school Grimrose Academy—Ella, Yuki, Rory, and newcomer Nani. When the former three’s best friend dies, all four girls are swept up in a dark and twisted mystery full of old fairytale magic. They must work together to unravel the secrets between them and break an ancient curse that dooms them to a fairytale ending (and not the fun kind). Yuki’s aromantic asexual identity is explored in her relationship to expectations, beauty, and friendship throughout the novel.
46. Radio Silence by Alice Oseman Frances has been a study machine with one goal. Nothing will stand in her way; not friends, not a guilty secret – not even the person she is on the inside. Then Frances meets Aled, and for the first time, she’s unafraid to be herself. So when the fragile trust between them is broken, Frances is caught between who she was and who she longs to be. In this book, Aled identifies as demisexual while Frances identifies as bisexual. The story really pays homage to the importance of friendship, and romantic storylines move to the background in a way we don’t often get in YA literature.
47. This Golden Flame by Emily Victoria Forced to serve her country’s ruling group, Karis wants nothing more than to find her brother. But family bonds don’t matter to the sole focus of unlocking the magic of an ancient automaton army. Karis is ace and other LGBTQ+ characters are introduced throughout.
48. Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand A horror novel centered around three girls facing off against an unseen monster that preys upon the young women of the island of Sawkill Rock. Features a black asexual girl fresh out of a romantic relationship, as well as a f/f relationship.
49. Love Letters for Joy by Melissa See Less than a year away from graduation, seventeen-year-old Joy is too busy overachieving to be worried about relationships. She’s determined to be Caldwell Prep’s first disabled valedictorian. And she only has one person to beat, her academic rival Nathaniel. But it’s senior year and everyone seems to be obsessed with pairing up. One of her best friends may be developing feelings for her and the other uses Caldwell’s anonymous love-letter writer to snag the girl of her dreams. Joy starts to wonder if she has missed out on a quintessential high school experience. She is asexual, but that’s no reason she can’t experience first love, right?
50. Not Your Backup by C. B. Lee Part 3 in the Sidekick Squad series by C.B. Lee. Follows a questioning aromantic asexual latinx superhero sidekick fighting to prove her worth on the team despite her lack of superpowers, all admist the team's battle against the corrupt League of Heroes.
51. Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller Noble-born Emilie des Marais, 16, wants to become a physician, a role usually forbidden women of her class because of the corruptive toll the magical "noonday arts" exact. Common-born Annette Boucher wants to escape her domineering parents and master the less physically costly "midnight arts" of illusions, divination, and scrying, normally reserved for those who can afford the expensive education. At Emilie's urging, each girl takes the other's place. Miller (Ruin of Stars) writes in lush, dense prose that can require a careful read, but her protagonists' awareness of privilege and desire to challenge the status quo shines through. LGBTQ representation--including gay, trans, and nonbinary characters (Annette identifies as asexual biromantic)--further widens this tale's appeal.
52. Tarnished Are the Stars by Rosiee Thor A secret beats inside Anna Thatcher's chest: an illegal clockwork heart. Anna works cog by cog -- donning the moniker Technician -- to supply black market medical technology to the sick and injured, against the Commissioner's tyrannical laws. Determined to earn his father's respect, Nathaniel sets out to capture the Technician. But the more he learns about the outlaw, the more he questions whether his father's elusive affection is worth chasing at all. This YA novel features an aroace character gradually coming to accept his orientation in the midst of everything else that is happening in his life. Perfect for older teens who also enjoy WLW representation and dark themes.
53. Aces Wild: A Heist by Amanda DeWitt An all-asexual online friend group attempts to break into a high-stakes gambling club and commit a heist together. Includes a male asexual character navigating what love looks like for him, an aromantic asexual Latinx gender-nonconforming boy, a Vietnamese American and German asexual nonbinary teen, and a black asexual girl.
54. Planning Perfect by Haley Neil Summer vacation quickly becomes complicated for Felicity Becker as she tries to plan a perfect wedding for her mom, figure out her feelings for her friend Nancy, and wonder what dating will look like for her as an asexual person.
55. Ace of Hearts by Myriad Augustine Everyone around Alvin seems to be obsessed with one thing-- sex. Alvin finds it uncomfortable to think and talk about it and he knows he isn't ready and may never be. His friends, however, think that all Alvin needs is to hook up with the right guy. But the closer Alvin gets to being physical with someone, the more he's uncertain that this is for him and he begins to wonder if he's asexual. Can Alvin find the love that's right for him?
56. Beyond the Black Door by AdriAnne Strickland Everyone has a soul. Some are beautiful gardens, others are frightening dungeons. Kamia comes to know more about her identity as she decides to battle the forces of evil, no matter the cost... Asexual and demi-romantic main characters. Dark fantasy. Kamai is asexual, but isn’t aromantic—she has an interest in relationships that isn’t always depicted for those who are ace.
57. Loveless by Alice Oseman A queer coming of age story featuring a romance obsessed aromantic asexual main character discovering her sexuality and coming to terms with what that means, and a variety of other queer characters that support her on her journey.
58. Summer Bird Blue by Akemi Dawn Bowman Rumi Seto spends a lot of time worrying she doesn’t have the answers to everything. What to eat, where to go, whom to love. But there is one thing she is absolutely sure of—she wants to spend the rest of her life writing music with her younger sister, Lea. Then Lea dies in a car accident, and her mother sends her away to live with her aunt in Hawaii while she deals with her own grief. While not the main focal point of the book, Rumi does grapple throughout the story about where exactly she lands on the ace and aro spectrum—and whether she has to label herself at all.
59. Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee In this queer rom-com, a transgender teen must decide if he's dedicated to romantic formulas or open to unpredictable love after an internet troll attack on his blog compels him and a fan to start fake-dating. Through an unlikely friendship with sweet, grounded Devin, who is Cuban American, asexual, and experimenting with pronouns, Noah--initially self-centered and standoffish--learns to value communication and empathy.
60. The Reckless Kind by Carly Heath In 1904 Norway, Asta runs away from her horrible fiancé to live with her two best friends. The three misfits set out to win the annual Christmas sleigh race to prove that they belong together. Queer asexual hard of hearing protagonist with heterochromia of Norwegian descent.
61. Forward March by Skye Quinlan How can band geek Harper have the chance of becoming the First Daughter with a fake dating profile? However, Harper does know that the drumline leader swiped right. Come along with Harper as she explores her truth during her last year of high school. Asexual-questioning cis female MC with anxiety and asthma.
62. Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger What if America had monsters, magic, and interdimensional beings? For Elatsoe, this is real, and she has to uncover her cousin's murder! She can do this with the help of her ghost dog, Kirby, but has to remember not to wake human ghosts. Aromantic ace main character. Paranormal mystery. Casual representation which extends to Ellie’s identity as Lipan Apache. This identity is asserted more often and firmly than her asexuality, and Little Badger drops in nuggets of education for us settlers about what Indigenous people, and the Lipan Apache in particular, suffered at the hands of settlers.
63. All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens Throughout the Ages by Editor Robin Talley A collection of short fantasy stories, featuring a variety of queer characters across multiple sexualities and genders. Features an asexual roller-skating girl from the 70s struggling to explain her identity to her crush.
64. Black Wings Beating by Alex London Twins Brysen and Kylee live in a world that revers the power of the falconers, but in a world where war approaches, they aren’t safe. Hunted for their power, they work together to trap the Ghost Eagle. Kylee is an ace character, focused on protecting her brother.
Graphic Novels
65. A-okay by Jarad Greene Eight grade can be tough, especially if you have acne and bullies, and lose friends. But our relatable asexual and aromantic protagonist, Jay, pulls through. This is a relatable memoir with colorful artwork.
66. How to Be Ace: A Memoir of Growing up Asexual by Rebecca Burgess A comic memoir detailing the author Rebecca Burgess's experience with growing up asexual in a world obsessed with sex. Also talks about her experiences with her own mental health and OCD.
67. Jughead, Volume 1 by Chip Zdarsky A comic book reboot of the Archie comics centered around Jughead Jones. Follows an aromantic asexual main character in typical Archie-style shenanigans. Part 1 of a 3 part series.
68. A Quick & Easy Guide to Asexuality by Molly Muldoon A charming introduction to asexuality, created to shed light on the misconceptions surrounding sex and being asexual. Told by writer Molly Muldoon and cartoonist Will Hernandez, both on the asexual spectrum.
69. Is Love the Answer? by Isaki Uta A poignant coming-of-age story about a young woman coming into her own as she discovers her identity as aromantic asexual. A complete story in a single volume, from the creator of "Mine-kun is Asexual."
Domestic Fiction
70. Have You Seen Luis Velez by Catherine Ryan Hyde Raymond Jaffe feels like he doesn't belong. Not with his mother's new family. Not as a weekend guest with his father and his father's wife. Not at school, where he's an outcast. After his best friend moves away, Raymond has only two real connections: to the feral cat he's tamed and to a blind ninety-two-year-old woman in his building who's introduced herself with a curious question: Have you seen Luis Velez? Mildred Gutermann, a German Jew who narrowly escaped the Holocaust, has been alone since her caretaker disappeared. She turns to Raymond for help, and as he tries to track Luis down, a deep and unexpected friendship blossoms between the two. Raymond is asexual (to be precise, he is aroace) And he is depicted as kind, loving, sensitive and realistic.
Fantasy
71. In the Lives of the Puppets by TJ Klune In a strange little home built into the branches of a grove of trees, live three robots--fatherly inventor android Giovanni Lawson, a pleasantly sadistic nurse machine, and a small vacuum desperate for love and attention. Victor Lawson, a human, lives there too. They're a family, hidden and safe. Protagonist: Vic, A curious, loving, & asexual human.
72. The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon In the mid-21st century major world cities are controlled by a formidable security force and clairvoyant underworld cell member Paige commits acts of psychic treason before being captured by an otherworldly race that would make her a part of their supernatural army. Demisexual main character.
73. The Perfect Assassin by K.A. Doore Divine justice is written in blood. Or so Amastan has been taught. As a new assassin in the Basbowen family, he's already having second thoughts about taking a life. A scarcity of contracts ends up being just what he needs. Until, unexpectedly, Amastan finds the body of a very important drum chief. Until, inevitably, Amastan is ordered to solve these murders, before the family gets blamed. Amastan is asexual and, as it turns out, homoromantic.
74. The Bruising of Quilwa by Naseem Jamnia Firuz-e Jafari was able to escape the slaughter of traditional blood magic practitioners by immigrating to the city-state of Qilwa. But now a terrible disease is spreading through the city, and Firuz believes it comes from ineptly performed blood magic. Now they must find a way to break a cycle of prejudice in order to survive. From the author: it's about an aroace nonbinary refugee healer who is trying to cure a magical plague in their new home while hiding their blood magic.
75. The Midnight Bargain by C. L. Polk The Midnight Bargain is a story "set in a world reminiscent of Regency England, where women's magic is taken from them when they marry. A sorceress must balance her desire to become the first great female magician against her duty to her family. Ysbeta has a clear goal for her life: to discover and share magic. Besides loving learning for its own sake, Ysbeta is asexual, and wealthy in her own right, so the bargaining season offers her literally nothing.
76. Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire Set in a world where a group of children have the ability to find and enter doorways into magical worlds, and now must find who's targetting them for this ability. Lead by an female asexual main character, with a trans love interest. First book in a series of novellas.
Science Fiction
77. The First Sister by Linden A. Lewis She's a priestess of the Sisterhood, traveling the stars alongside the soldiers of Earth who own the rights to her body and soul. When her former captain abandons her, First Sister's hopes for freedom are dashed and she is forced to stay on her ship with no friends, no status, and a new captain she knows nothing about. When the Mother, leader of her order, asks her to spy on Captain Saito Ren, First Sister discovers that sacrificing for the war effort is so much harder to do when your loyalties are split. He climbed his way out of the slums to become an elite soldier of Venus, but now he's haunted by his failures and the loss of his partner Hiro. But when Lito learns that Hiro is alive, but a traitor, and he's assigned to hunt Hiro down, and kill them, Lito must decide what he is actually fighting for - the society that raised him, or himself. As the battle to control Ceres reaches a head, Lito and First Sister must decide what - and whom - they are willing to sacrifice in the name of duty, or for love. Hispanic panromantic asexual protagonist (Lito).
78. Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace Mal is one of many war survivors in the old town working multiple jobs to scrimp by, one of which is her team's streaming video game play. The team lives with several other roommates in a converted hotel room run by Stellaxis, the company that owns half of town, and is the only legal provider of drinkable water. When Mal catches sight of an elusive SecOps character, special non-player characters (NPCs) modeled after Stellaxis' twelve bioengineered operatives, the team pursues her inside the game to catch her on video for two seconds before their power curfew kicks in. By the time Mal heads down for her daily ration of water, they've secured a lucrative contract, involving an in-person meeting and a conspiracy theory, paying them to capture images of the three living SecOps characters. When Mal returns to find out why the next payment failed, she becomes involved in a fracas that will endanger everyone she knows. Aroace main character.
79. To be Taught, If Fortunate by Becky Chambers Four astronauts set out to explore the galaxy. This journey spans centuries and many worlds. A thought provoking read that explores the themes of loneliness and sense of purpose. Excellent cast of diverse characters and vivid world building. Chikondi is asexual and the text is careful to note that his relationship to the protagonist is no less emotional or vital than those she shares with people she is sexually involved with.
80. The Circus Infinite by Khan Wong What better person to take down a crime boss than a mixed-species fugitive! Join Jes on this exciting tale of espionage, torture, demolition. Sex-averse panromantic asexual lead character
Historical Fiction
81. Kaikeyi by Vasihnavi Patel The only daughter of the kingdom of Kekaya, she is raised on grand stories about the might and benevolence of the gods. Yet she watches as her father unceremoniously banishes her mother, her own worth measured by how great a marriage alliance she can secure. And when she calls upon the gods for help, they never seem to hear. Desperate for some measure of independence, she turns to the ancient texts she once read with her mother and discovers a magic that is hers alone. Kaikeyi is asexual and aromantic. Although the words "asexual" and "aromantic" aren't used in the book.
Western
82. The Complete Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone Chronicles by L. C. Mawson If you’re looking for steampunk magic, the Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone novellas are the place for you. Read them individually or all together in this compendium. Chapelstone is interested in her inventions, not love and romance.
Paranormal
83. The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Homes by Joseph Fink Told in a series of eerie flashbacks, the story of The Faceless Old Woman goes back centuries to reveal an initially blissful and then tragic childhood on a Mediterranean Estate in the early nineteenth century, her rise in the criminal underworld of Europe, a nautical adventure with a mysterious organization of smugglers, her plot for revenge on the ones who betrayed her, and ultimately her death and its aftermath, as her spirit travels the world for decades until settling in modern-day Night Vale. Asexual secondary character.
Romance  
84. All the Wrong Places by Ann Gallagher After his three ex-girlfriends in a row leave Brennan because he's not fulfilling their sexual needs, he seeks out advice from Zafir, the owner of a sex shop. Zafir introduces Brennan to the concept of asexuality and slowly something more blossoms between them.
85. That Kind of Guy by Talia Hibbert Rae needs a fake date to take to her ex's wedding and convinces Zach, a close friend who has recently discovered that he is demisexual, to play along.
86. The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood In an attempt to convince her best friend that she really is over her ex-boyfriend, grad-student Olive panic kisses stern associate professor Adam in the hallway. (Olive is coded as demisexual/graysexual, but that label is never used in the book).
87. Far From Home by Lorelie Brown The oddest of odd couples finds unexpected joy in Brown’s warm, sweet contemporary romance. American citizen Rachel, a not-quite-asexual assistant film producer struggling to make a living in L.A., is drowning in student debt; Indian immigrant Pari Sadashiv, a lesbian logistics manager, needs a U.S. green card to advance her career. When Rachel offers to marry Pari in exchange for funds, it’s just party banter at first—but what’s to stop them from crafting a friendship with legal and financial benefits? Their platonic plans quickly go awry as Pari’s mother moves in to help plan the wedding, forcing them to live their lie. As Rachel feels herself awakening to an attraction she didn’t even know was possible, Pari has to decide whether she can live with the possible fallout of Rachel’s tentative first foray into same-sex love.
88. Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun Last Christmas, Ellie met Jack in Powell’s when they both went for a copy of Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home, and over a cute argument over “shared custody”, and Jack poking gentle fun at Ellie (who had been crying alone and talking to a footstool as if it were her friend) they start to bond. Jack asks Ellie for coffee, and then they end up spending the whole day together. This is a big deal for Ellie, who is demisexual, and rarely develops attractions to anyone. And then Jack breaks her heart. Fast-forward to this Christmas when Andrew, the landlord who owns the building she works in, asks her to fake-marry him so he can access his inheritance, and shenanigans lead to her agreeing to this and to going home with him for Christmas, and surprise! Jack is Andrew’s sister.
89. The Charm Offensive by Alison Cochrun Tech wunderkind Charlie has never really been interested in dating, but agrees to join the cast of reality show 'Ever After.' While there he finds himself charmed by his producer, Dev, and questioning his sexuality. The Charm Offensive includes a conversation discussing asexuality and its spectrum.
90. Never Been Kissed by Timothy Janovsky Wren Roland has never been kissed, but he wants that movie-perfect ending more than anything. Thanks to Mateo’s boyfriend, he learns about demisexuality and realizes that when he came out as gay, he had not finished realizing truths about himself and intimate relationships.
91. How to be a Normal Person by TJ Klune Before The House on the Cerulean Sea blew up, Klune wrote this quirky and delightful story of two asexual people finding each other and their happily ever after.
92. Soft on Soft by Mina Waheed This super sweet, low-angst romance centers on two fat, queer women of colour (one Black and one Persian-Arab) who fall in love and find their happy ending with hardly any drama. There’s also anxiety representation. It’s just pure fluffy romance goodness. Demisexual protagonist.
Non-Fiction
93. Ace and Aro Journeys: A Guide to Embracing your Asexual or Aromantic Identity by The Ace and Aro Advocacy Project What does it mean to be ace or aro? How should I approach the challenges that come with being ace or aro? How can I best support the ace and aro people in my life? Join the The Ace and Aro Advocacy Project (TAAAP) for a deep dive into the process of discovering and embracing your ace and aro identities. Empower yourself to explore the nuances of your identity, find and develop support networks, explore different kinds of partnership, come out to your communities and find real joy within. Combining a rigorous exploration of identity and sexuality models with hundreds of candid and poignant testimonials -- this companion vouches for your personal truth, wherever you lie on the aspec spectrum. You are not invisible! You are among friends.
94. Being Ace: An Anthology of Queer, Trans, Femme, and Disabled Stories of Asexual Love and Connection by Editor Madeline Dyer Discover the infinite realms of asexual love across sci-fi, fantasy, and contemporary stories From a wheelchair user racing to save her kidnapped girlfriend and a little mermaid who loves her sisters more than suitors, to a slayer whose virgin blood keeps attracting monsters, the stories of this anthology are anything but conventional. Whether adventuring through space, outsmarting a vengeful water spirit, or surviving haunted cemeteries, no two aces are the same in these 14 unique works that highlight asexual romance, aromantic love, and identities across the asexual spectrum
95. Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen A non-fiction research book about the asexual perspective on society's facinations with love and sex, and the misconceptions about what being asexual really is and what it means to a person.
96. The Invisible Orientation: an Introduction to Asexuality by Julia Sondra Decker An introduction to what asexuality is, both for people who don't know what that means and for people that may be questioning their own sexuality. It aims to puts asexual people's experiences in context, as they move through a very sexualized world.
97. Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobabe A graphic memoir about author Kobabe's growing from adolescence to adulthood, as e explores eir gender identity and sexuality. Features a gender queer and asexual main character that uses e/eir pronouns.
98. Ace Voices What it Means to Be Asexual, Aromantic, Demi or Grey-Ace by Eris Young This is the ace community in their own words. Drawing upon interviews with a wide range of people across the asexual spectrum, Eris Young is here to take you on an empowering, enriching journey through the rich multitudes of asexual life.
99. I Am Ace: Adice on Living Your Best Asexual Life by Cody Daigle-Orians Tackling everything from what asexuality is, the asexual spectrum and tips on coming out, to intimacy, relationships, acephobia and finding joy, this guide will help you better understand your asexual identity alongside deeply relatable anecdotes drawn from Cody's personal experience.
100. Sounds Fake But Okay: An Asexual and Aromantic Perspective on Love, Relationships, Sex, and Pretty Much Anything Else by Sarah Costello and Kayla Kaszyca Drawing on their personal stories, and those of aspec friends all over the world, prepare to explore your microlabels, investigate different models of partnership, delve into the intersection of gender norms and compulsory sexuality and reconsider the meaning of sex - when allosexual attraction is out of the equation.
I haven't read all of these books, so I can't guarantee all of them. But I did my best researching all of them. I was making this list on my own and I was amazed that I could find over 100 books with asexual characters and I wanted to share it!
The Aromantic Book List is now out!
Tagging some people who were excited about this list: @sweetspiderstew @majorgenerally @shayberri789 @53rdcenturyhero @knightoflodis @neonghost39 @rosaazulina
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quin-ns · 1 year
Text
Invisible String (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 3K
Summary: bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower
Tags: 2007 (as seen in ep3), age gap, protective!joel, jealousy, tess isn’t painted in a bad light but she gets her feelings hurt a lil, angst, joel being emotionally suppressed, everyone hiding their emotions actually no one copes normally, emotional hurt/comfort, hugs, pining!joel, hugs, fluff
Request: anon: “hello! i am totally obsessed with your work! i was womdering, if you still take requests, if you can write a joel x reader fic where the reader has a tough exterior with everyone, including Joel, but he knows how sensitive and delicate she is on the inside and behind closed doors. picture this for reference: she had warm water at bill and frank's and she started sobbing uncontrollably, but in front of joel she will always deny she doesn't feel depressed and emotional, but he knows better that this and they both help each other to open up.”
Request: anon: “loved your first joel fic!! if you’re okay with requests can you do another joel fic where maybe tess is jealous of how joel softens around the reader? like he’s not really an affectionate guy but with her he is and tess realizes how he feels about the reader? maybe they’re at frank and bills house and she knows joel doesn’t want to stay but for the reader he will? or something like that it’s up to you- you’re the writer after all”
A/N: so since both of these requests included joel being soft for the reader and them being at bill and franks, I decided to combine them. I liked both concepts and I thought mixing them would lead to something interesting. I feel like there’s more to this story so if y’all want a part two lmk
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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When you, Joel, and Tess first met Bill and Frank, none of you had any idea how you’d end up feeling about the two men.
Frank had allowed the three of you to enter their isolated town and introduced them both (okay, nice enough), and then Bill had pointed a gun at you (not so nice). Why you? No particular reason other than that you were his closest target. From that moment Joel wasn’t a fan.
“If you’re gonna point that thing at someone, point it at me. Not at her,” Joel said sternly, his hardened gaze fixed on Bill. The two stared one another down for a moment as Bill quickly identified Joel’s weakness. Tess looked at Joel, working hard to hide the frustration on her face.
He obliged, turning the gun onto Joel.
“Bill,” Frank said softly yet firmly.
Bill glanced at Frank, who was silently asking him to relent. Bill lowered the gun with a huff.
With the hostility out of the way, or at least set aside for the moment, Frank offered you an apologetic smile.
“Would you like to see our home?” he asked as a peace offering.
“We’d love to,” Tess answered at the same time as Joel, who said—
“We actually should be going.”
You didn’t say anything, which caused them both to look at you. Tie breaker.
Tess had a feeling you’d agree with her, but what happened next still bothered her.
You and Joel exchanged a look, having a silent conversation. Joel registered that despite the gun incident, you weren’t fearful. It was only because of that that Joel looked at Frank and nodded.
“Alright,” he changed his answer.
Tess wanted to scream.
Frank seemed relieved and his smile grew. He led the three of you to the large white house that the two men called their home.
“You’re welcome to anything in the house,” Frank said kindly, ignoring the disapproving grunt that came from Bill. “Clothes, medicine, water, food—although Bill will be starting dinner soon—and of course the shower,” he listed off.
Your ears perked up at “shower.” Joel could tell by the way you actually lifted your head. Just a day ago you had been reminiscing on how long it had been since you felt clean. Like, really clean. Hot water, soap, soft towel—you longed for it and Joel knew that.
Frank noticed too. “Shower it is.”
“Thank you,” you said immediately. “For being so kind and sharing your home with us.”
“If I’m being honest, I’ve been bugging Bill for us to find some friends,” Frank admitted to you quietly. “Speaking of which,” he started. “Bill? Maybe you could get our other guests some drinks? I’m going to show—“ he looked back at you.
“Y/N,” you filled in.
“—Y/N to the shower,” Frank finished.
You didn’t hear what Bill had to say, but that was the least of your concern as Frank gestured for you to follow him.
Joel watched as you followed Frank away. He itched to go after you, not comfortable with you being apart from him. He felt incredibly protective over you and maybe it wasn’t the healthiest reaction, but he didn’t like to let you out of his sight. It scared him—not that he’d ever admit it.
“Don’t worry, I think she’ll survive without you,” Tess said sarcastically, smothering the genuine bitterness she felt at the man’s reaction. Joel was never like this before. Well, before you.
Joel threw her a glance, but didn’t say anything. Bill was approaching them and grumpily suggested they follow him into the kitchen.
They all made casual conversation, Tess doing most of the talking.
Upstairs, Frank was showing you to the shower. He’d given you a towel and found you soap, shampoo, and conditioner.
“Thank you so much,” you said yet again. Frank just laughed it off and told you no worries, and that if you needed anything you could just call for him.
You closed the door, isolating yourself in the bathroom. You turned on the water and held your hand under it until it was warm. A smile spread across your face. You quickly stripped and stepped under the water, longing for the feel of a hot shower.
It was everything you had hoped for. You relished in the hot water rushing over your tired body.
You prided yourself on being tough—like not even flinching when Bill pulled his gun on you—but something about the comfort that reminded you of the old world brought tears to your eyes. Their house was so normal. Nothing like the wilderness, the destroyed towns, or even the QZ. You were only a child when the pandemic happened, but you held onto a few fond memories. You never felt at home in the QZ.
The only thing that made it feel comfortable and safe was Joel, but this was still so much better than the QZ. It was overwhelming.
Next thing you knew, a sob of happiness broke free. And once it started you couldn’t stop.
In the kitchen, Bill was standing at the stove cooking. Joel didn’t know what it was—but it smelled delicious. Frank had excused himself to set up a table outside so everyone could eat together in the nice weather.
“Sorry, by the way,” Bill announced, off topic from the previous discussion. He didn’t look up from his task of sautéing onions as he spoke. “For the uh, gun thing. Can’t be too careful.”
Tess and Joel looked at one another. They both suspected Frank must’ve said something to convince him to apologize. But beyond that, they both thought back to the incident. A flash of anger shot through Joel at the memory of the weapon being targeted at you. Tess remembered how reckless Joel had been, asking Bill to turn the gun on him. Would he really trade his life for yours? Once Tess started thinking about that, she couldn’t stop.
She started to become quiet during the conversation, which was pretty much when the talking fizzled out. Joel wasn’t very talkative, and clearly neither was Bill.
“I’m gonna go see if Frank needs help,” Bill decided after a few minutes. Joel and Tess exchanged a look. Obviously he just wanted away from them for a moment of relief—he wasn’t anticipating having to be social and wasn’t too happy with it.
Once they had a moment alone, Joel had a feeling Tess was going to unleash. It had been building up, Joel could tell her mood had turned sour.
“What was that?” she asked vaguely. Joel furrowed his brows. “Earlier,” she clarified.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel stated. He had an inclination, but he was hoping Tess would drop it.
She didn’t. “You asked him to point a gun at you!” Tess said in a hushed yell, frustration seeping out in her scolding tone.
“He wasn’t going to shoot me,” Joel deadpanned.
“He wasn’t going to shoot at all,” Tess confirmed. “So then why did you tell him to turn it on you?”
She was pushing for an answer she didn’t want, but now that she had started Tess wasn’t going to let up. She was stubborn like that.
“I didn’t like him pointing a gun at Y/N,” Joel admitted. The memory of it made him clench his fist. Tess didn’t see that, but she saw the way Joel wouldn’t hold her gaze.
Her jaw clenched. “You’re too soft on her.”
At that, Joel scoffed. The sound came out before he could stop it. “How is that being too soft on her?”
Tess was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next words. “It’s not just that,” she said, quieter, almost distant. It was a contrast to how loud she’d been getting.
Joel took a deep breath through his nose, then let out a heavy sigh. He finally looked Tess dead in the eye. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
If it wasn’t for the desperate look on Tess’s face, he would’ve gotten up and walked away. She wasn’t done. She was struggling to say what she wanted to say, and Joel didn’t want her to.
“The moment she came into our lives, that was it,” Tess told herself just as much as she was saying it to Joel.
She was backing Joel into a corner. “Where is this coming from?” he questioned.
Tess let out a humorless laugh. “This has been a long time coming,” she confessed. “I see the way you look at her, how you act around her. She’s just about half your age and yet you always seem to find something in common. You cut me out, Joel.”
Joel was at a loss of words. He couldn’t seem to find the words to defend himself. Tess continued.
“We’ve been in that scenario before, do you remember? When you and I were making a trade and the punk pointed a gun at me?” Tess recalled. Joel recovered the memory quickly, and he began to zero in on exactly why this meant so much to Tess. “You never would’ve considered trading yourself for me. I know because you didn’t.”
“That was different,” was all Joel could come up with.
“I never would’ve made you choose between me and her, but you did on your own,” Tess held firm. Her jaw clenched as she fought to not let herself get any more emotional. “And you chose her. I see that now.”
“Tess,” Joel started, but she shook her head.
“Don’t try to lie to me. Please.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Joel said. He wasn’t even sure what he was planning on saying before. This had all come out of nowhere. At least for him, Tess had clearly had this on her mind for a long while and today just happened to be the final straw. “I’m sorry,” he decided, but it was too little too late.
Tess liked you. She really did. And you hadn’t done anything on purpose. You probably didn’t even know the effect you had on Joel. That’s what made being jealous of you so hard. She wanted to not like you, to blame you for stealing any ounce of affection Joel allowed himself to have, but she couldn’t.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go check and see if they need any help setting up outside.” The sudden calmness was eerie. Joel looked at her cautiously. “We’re going to just… drop this,” Tess decided. “And we can all try and have a nice time together, eat a real meal, take hot showers, and relax for the night before we head out in the morning.”
Suppression. Tess was going to bottle everything up. Ignore it and move on. It was something her and Joel had in common.
She left him then, and Joel felt no desire to go after her. He felt guilty about that, but he had nothing left to say to Tess about that and she’d concluded her piece.
Instead, Joel found himself leaving the kitchen table. He followed the sound of running water upstairs. You’d been in the shower for a while and there was a nagging feeling in Joel’s chest that longed to find you.
His feet carried him to the bathroom door, where he knew you still were.
Joel heard a sad, gasping sound from you. It was nearly drowned out, but he heard it. Concern overwhelmed him in an instant.
Joel pressed his ear to the door. He almost busted in, but wanted to take a moment. And it was good he did. What he had first thought were sounds of distress, was actually you muffling cries of relief. He could tell. He wasn’t sure how—maybe it was the tone, or the softness to the sounds, or he just knew you too well—but he could tell.
His hand reached for the doorknob. Joel grasped it and contemplated turning it. He leaned the side of his head against the door.
“Y/N?” Joel called through the door. He went blank over what else to say. Should he ask if you were alright? Would you be weirded out if he asked to come in? You were showering after all. Instead he said nothing.
You went silent. Joel felt bad now. You were never emotional around anyone, you tried to hide it from him. Joel wished you wouldn’t. But he supposed you were just following by example.
“Yeah?” you asked.
“Um,” Joel stalled. “I was just checking on you.”
“Oh, um, I'm alright,” you replied. A few seconds of quiet passed. “Thank you, though.”
Joel listened to the sound of water rushing from the shower. You’d stopped your tears it seemed, but Joel could hear the quiver in your voice when you’d spoken.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Joel told you carefully.
“I’m fine, Joel,” you assured.
When Joel first met you, you were innocent despite the dark world and wore your heart on your sleeve. You used to express yourself emotionally, but now Joel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you let yourself break.
You’d gotten better about hiding it. He wanted to help you open up, but that was something even he struggled to do.
Joel went down the stairs and to the living room. No one else was in the house, he could see out the window that Frank was showing Tess around their garden while Bill was setting up the food.
Joel sat on the couch and thought over your interaction through the door. He wished he would have waited for you to come out of the bathroom to talk to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Because then he’d have to explain himself as to why and after the conversation with Tess, he feared how you’d react to the knowledge of his feelings.
As if on cue, there were light steps descending down the stairs. Joel turned to look at you.
Your hair was damp, and you were wearing an oversized clean shirt that must’ve come from one of the hosts (Frank was the nicer one, so Joel guessed it was him who lent you it) and a pair of jeans that you’d packed that you hadn’t worn yet.
“Hi,” you greeted.
“Hey,” Joel said, watching you as you moved over to him. “Everyone else is outside.”
“I see that,” you said lightly. “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Joel asked.
You shrugged. “I thought I heard arguing earlier. You and Tess,” you explained. “Bathroom is right above the kitchen…”
A brief moment of unease filled Joel. “What all did you hear?”
“No words clearly, just Tess raising her voice,” you revealed. Joel just gave you a slight nod. He had a feeling that wasn’t the only thing you had to say. “Did you, um… hear me earlier?”
Joel knew instantly what you meant. “No.” He hated lying to you. “Yes.”
“I thought so. I just”—you searched for your words—“I’m fine. That was just—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
You swallowed and took a breath. “I’m not weak.”
Joel let out a small huff. “I know that.” That fact that you thought you had to tell him was amusing in an odd way. He was well aware.
“Well, alright then,” you said decidedly. “It’s just been so long since we’ve had hot water and—“
“You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to feel,” Joel reminded. “I know you. You’re strong. But you’re also a good, sweet, caring person and I just”—Joel sighed, struggling for his words even as they were tumbling out—“I don’t want to see you go numb to the world. I don’t want you to end up like me.”
You looked at him curiously. He stood for some reason, it felt more natural for him. Your eyes held his on his way up. “You’re not numb, Joel,” you told him, sounding so sure of yourself. “I don’t think that. I think you put on a brave face just like I do. Although I guess I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”
A small laugh left you as you shook your head.
“What?”
“It’s just been so long since I talked about… feelings,” you admitted.
“Same here,” Joel agreed.
“It’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be, but it is.”
Joel got an idea. He hoped it wasn’t a bad one. “Maybe we can… help each other with that. Y’know, find a way to talk about it.”
You gave him a gentle smile. Before Joel could process, you were wrapping your arms around him and clinging to him in a hug. It was a sudden, unfamiliar movement. Joel held you against his body, resting his chin on your head.
“That’s a good idea,” you told him, your voice muffled against him.
Joel hadn’t touched, let alone held, someone in so long. It was nice. Mostly because it was you.
The sound of a door opening and heavy steps alerted you, causing you and Joel to part from one another. Frank approached the two of you with a welcoming smile on his face.
“Dinners ready,” he informed, looking between the both of you.
“Seriously, we cannot thank you enough, Frank,” you said kindly. He gestured towards the door in an “after you” manner. You gave him a smile and headed outside. Before you stepped out, you gave Joel one last grateful look.
There was a slight smile on Frank’s face as he looked at Joel, who hadn’t moved yet.
“It’s nice to have someone in a world like this, isn’t it?” Frank asked in a sincere tone.
Joel looked out the window towards the garden where you joined the table. You smiled at the sight of the food and took a seat.
After having a whole conversation about allowing feelings, Joel decided that he didn’t want to suppress the small smile of appreciation that crossed his own face.
“Yeah, it is,” Joel answered.
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starting a joel taglist, if you’d like to be on it lmk through an ask or message!
joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose
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chaedomi · 9 months
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i'm currently thinking about men who are dangerous. i'm talking about men who are capable of instilling fear in the hearts of many with a simple mention of their name. men who are utterly vile and straight-up diabolical. men who have a terrifying reputation… where people are baffled when they see how soft and putty they become in the presence of their cute, sweet wife. (cw: yandere, implied violence) / mlist.
LANTE is known to be beyond merciless. It does not matter the age, gender, etc… once you are deemed unfit and unworthy of his time and effort, he will simply discard you like a piece of garbage without second thoughts. He claims to be foreign to the concept of love, but, as of now, he has morphed into a stuttering and sweaty mess under the presence of his wife, who stood in the background with her arms folded and a displeased pout plastered on her face. He very well knew how much she disapproved of his methods, and god, was it a sight to see such a powerful man’s visage crumble in seconds flat. He debates with himself, whether to usher you off and have you wait for him, or leave with you. However, he quickly chooses the second option when he catches the smallest teardrops at the corner of your eyes, rushing to your side. He is aware that your tears are fake. Damn, he couldn't bear it at all, wanting to get rid of your 'grief' whether it may be slow-dancing with you in the privacy of your room, or drowning you in riches. And with a lovestruck smile, an expression he has not given to anyone else, he left the dungeons beside you, leaving the formerly tortured prisoner dumbfounded and in awe.
Many tend to walk eggshells around DION as a result of his fearsome personality. They have heard of the gruesome things he does to his victims and without much effort too, as though it were some everyday activity to him. Dion was also known to be crueler and more sadistic than his father, so, it was even worse if he was already in a bad mood, where anything could set him off in the wrong manner. However, it was just beyond impossible for him to remain upset, especially when his wife would happily approach him, clinging onto him and squishing her cheek against his arm. Everyone saw it, how much Dion adored you. To him, you were this beautiful possession made for him, and him alone. Dion was mostly emotionless and indifferent. While his face doesn’t often display emotions, the rare sparkle of light in his eyes whenever he was around you was hard to miss. Gently caress his cheek, brush back his hair when he falls asleep in his chair, embrace him when he returns from a mission, do it all to him, he is a sucker for it, for you. People admit it’s sweet, even the enemies he made. But, as soon as the light dims in his eyes when he turns to glare at them, they are falling over as they try to run away…
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©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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harrysonlylover · 2 months
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Discipline
Summary: Agent Harry cherishes discipline, but he doesn’t like the fact that Y/n has been lacking it.
Trope: Agent Harry
WC: 6.8k
Warnings: MEAN Harry, shouting at Y/n, Angst, mention of blood tests and deficiencies, NO SMUT.
Agent Harry Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Choosing to become an agent would either be the worst decision in your life or the best. In Harry’s case, it was the latter.
He was born a leader—at least according to his mother. He had the household controlled from a young age, something that was perceived as adorable by adults.
But behind all his antics and “boss orders”, was a man eager to assert dominance starting from his early years.
His behavior was a replica of a leader or a man in power. His mother didn’t oppose his personality, perhaps a part of her thought it was just a phase, while the other was okay with it.
Little did she know that this stubborn young man would grow up to become one of London’s best secret agents.
As some would say—he didn’t choose the path, the path chose him. A fresh High School graduate eager to take a bite from what the world was offering him with little to no guidance.
Instead, he poured all of his focus on training like a man ready to enroll in the military—something that his mom disapproved of.
How could she allow her son, her boy to sign himself up like that?
Underneath his rough exterior and judgmental persona, his mother’s beliefs were dear to him. To this day, no one has deemed himself as important as her, and perhaps no one ever will.
So, after her sudden death when he was merely twenty—he allowed himself to get lost in grief, to go against the orders he created, and betray his strictness. His body dragged him around from one place to another, asking for fights, a punch here and there to transfer his emotional maim to a physical one.
The last time he would do that was also his first chance at a new beginning. Drunk and out of his mind at a local bar, the whiskey still fresh on his tongue with rage bubbling in his core.
Just like every previous time, he ensued a fight for no reason. But this time, it was different because he had an admirer and more of a stalker.
Ezra Nakrosa, the director of the London Intelligence Agency. A man whose reputation preceded him and Harry’s mentor for the upcoming years.
He wasn’t actively pursuing him, but he kept his eyes on him after he managed to take down three men with alcohol in his system.
He watched him drink one glass after the other and scoffed to himself when he caused a fight. The last thing he expected was for Harry to outpower them all.
Since then, he watched him from afar, studied his file, and was even more interested upon finding out that he had no family.
The agency always preferred recruiting agents with little to no loved ones, for many obvious reasons and Ezra felt like he hit the jackpot.
That night, he watched Harry intently observing his moves and his body language, before approaching him after the bar owner kicked him out.
Again—he didn’t choose this path, it chose him.
Ezra didn’t even have the chance to speak because Harry was quick to confess that ‘he wasn’t dumb to not notice men stalking him’.
His agents were the best, so how did a man from a small town detect undercover agents?
He knew in that moment that he would work hard to recruit Harry, and ironically he didn’t have to ask twice.
From that day onwards, Harry climbed the ladder to the top with the help of his mentor. He found a purpose to live again, somewhere to cage his rage, and use his strategic thinking skills paired with his physical strength.
While most agents took time to adapt to the new environment, and around two years to be qualified as a field agent—Harry got his first mission in one year.
Not because Ezra secretly favored him compared to others, but because he managed to prove himself worthy, making the board demand his transfer to the field.
He was aware of the progress he made and with every milestone, his ego inflated a bit (and his biceps too).
He turned thirty-one recently, marking eleven years of being a skilled agent. Ezra’s retirement is approaching by the second and everyone is whispering rumors about Harry becoming the next chief director.
It’s a decision that hasn’t been discussed yet, but Ezra is aware that Harry will approve instantly because no one can do it like him. Besides, the agency is his entire life.
He has no loved ones and he dedicated years and hard work to the agency. He knows nothing else.
What could make Harry Styles so busy other than his position as a secret agent?
The agency is preparing for a major attack on a drug cartel, and Harry has been training everyone ruthlessly. The plan he devised was strategic and well-planned from A to Z. It can’t go wrong.
But for today, he allowed them some rest after some bargaining with the other trainer. So instead, he directed his focus towards other agents.
According to him, time can’t be wasted.
The room was filled with agents in every corner. Most of them were beginners while the others trained for their upcoming missions that weren’t as important as the drug cartel attack.
The smell of sweat and tiredness reeked from their exhausted but energetic bodies. Harry focused on strengthening their stamina because a weak one won’t benefit them in the field.
“Faster! A child can do better than you.” His voice echoed in the tight space as he stood in front of the lined agents on the ground.
Even his position whether he was sitting or standing declared his authority and sense of power. His arms were folded against his chest, showcasing his pumped biceps and his facial expression did not harbor any warm smile or softness. No one dared to look him in the eyes anyway.
“With a stamina like that, you’d be dead already!” His loud shouting wasn’t helping the poor beginner agents who cursed their luck that landed Harry as their trainer for the day.
Their current exercise was pushups. A basic one but effective in Harry’s opinion, but their exhaustion makes sense when he wants them to do 200 consecutive pushups without resting, and with sudden planks in between that don’t stop until he says so.
Harry may be a bit biased, but he fully believes that the other trainer (whom he doesn’t like) is being too soft with the newcomers. Something that shouldn’t happen.
He glanced at their worn-out faces and rolled his eyes before dismissing them.
“I’ll be discussing your weaknesses with Agent Ian. Go eat and rest but know that you shouldn’t be called agents for this shitshow.” He spat his criticism mercilessly uncaring for their feelings.
He watched them stumble out of the room, some of them limping as he remained in his place with the same posture of a leader.
Once everyone was out, his gaze drifted to the punching bag in the corner. He felt like it was calling for him despite the four-hour workout he did in the morning.
His thirst for combat or any type of martial arts could not be tamed. But upon gazing a bit too much at the punching bag, he remembered something he was supposed to do.
His legs immediately take action before his brain as he flees out of the room heading towards a private floor that is restricted for regular agents.
Only Harry, Ezra, high-ranking agents, and members of the board can access this floor. But for an unknown reason, Harry found himself giving Y/n access to his private gym.
There are many layers to things that shouldn’t happen but it seemed as if Harry didn’t care or was perhaps unaware of his actions.
Agents like Y/n shouldn’t be on this floor, but they also can’t be trained privately.
The first restriction is more important, but the second is rather for caution—to maintain a professional relationship between regular agents and higher rank ones.
All agents were trained in groups and if they needed to work on certain issues, their trainer would give them advice but not train them individually.
Harry doesn’t always train Y/n’s group but as of late, he noticed her lack of discipline and physical stamina when it comes to combat.
He knew that she wasn’t that weak which meant that she had been slacking off with training and that pissed him off.
So he ordered her to wait for him in room 309 at exactly two in the afternoon. His boots left an echo as he walked through the corridor with a confident stride. Yet, something kept poking at his brain allowing anxiety to settle in his stomach. He wasn’t entirely comfortable.
He pushed the door to the gym open, reaching his hand for the light switch. It was somewhat dim, obscuring Y/n from his view. She sat on the ground in a corner with her head tilted upwards. In the few seconds between moving her head and meeting his sharp eyes, he got to catch a glimpse of her in a calm state, almost unobserved. Even then, she looked obscenely beautiful.
“You’re late.” She gestured to the clock on the wall in a sarcastic tone that indicated his five-minute delay.
“No. You’re early.” He tried to hide his smirk before failing upon seeing the frown on her face.
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and supported her body using her hands to get up—something that caught Harry’s eye.
“You’re an agent. You shouldn’t act like a 70-year-old woman at a retirement home.” His tone could cut a vein open, but at this point, she kind of got familiar with it.
She avoided responding or looking him in the eye because one answer would drag the other and he would end up questioning her on her performance—and frankly, she doesn’t have a proper response for that.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t take it any further and instructs her to warm up for fifteen minutes in a corner.
She does so with exhaustion traveling through her veins. The only thing that helps her through it is the sight of his athletic body.
His shirt is still on but it perfectly outlines his biceps that he wraps around her body to manhandle her during sex—
She quickly shakes her head to rid herself of the sinful thoughts she’s having. But again—would it be so bad to crave something that happens every other day?
Their steamy encounters keep increasing behind closed doors, and he puts on his boss’s facade once they’re out. She’s not sure if she likes that or not, but either way, she doesn’t have a say in it.
Their relationship is strictly physical.
Even if her lips begged her to find his at random moments throughout the day, even if their naked bodies molded after sex, and even if she was awake when he kissed her temple.
“Okay, that’s it.” The expression on his face held ambiguous cues, but he refrained from saying anything.
She caught her breath as shame creeped up her face planting a rosy color on her cheeks. She walked over to him with her head hung low, and nails digging into her palm.
“I need you to do some boxing because your game is getting weak.” He sighed as disappointment reeked from his words, causing more redness to settle on her face.
He helped her wear the boxing gloves as he intently glanced at her worried expression.
The first ten minutes were okay. Some form of another warm-up in Harry’s opinion. He has seen her train many times before and by now she would have the bag swinging left and right.
It made him think back to her friendly match with another agent and how she got a hit to the stomach—if he hadn’t stopped it, other areas would have been affected as well.
Not to mention her stamina in recent training—Harry simply could not let her lose her strength out of everyone else.
“Focus harder.” His posture was a warning—an indication of his bubbling anger. His arms were crossed, giving more room for his biceps to rightfully appear.
His legs were parted as he stood motionless, simply burning Y/n’s shame with his piercing gaze. She could feel it. How he had something going on in his mind, aching to roll off his lips.
His jaw ticked while his eyes followed the movement of her hands in sync with the boxing bag. It was a disaster.
“You know who gives this fucking performance? A beginner.” His tone began to increase gradually.
She swallowed down her throat, trying to ignore his intimidating posture and body that could be warm at times and cold at others.
It wasn’t odd for him to be harsh and strict during training—except that he never spoke to her like this. Not even when she was snarky and replied at things that had nothing to do with her.
Superior agents were not allowed to train any lower-ranking agent privately, and she wasn’t an idiot to dismiss that rule. But why was he acting this way?
She punched harder gathering all the strength left in her muscles, for the bag to only move a bit farther. She almost lost her footing but kept going for him. She never wanted to disappoint him.
“A fucking shitshow.” He mumbled quietly under his breath—but she heard it, and it went straight through her heart like an arrow.
“For the love of god, you’re a skilled agent so act like one!” His shouting echoed through the room making her stop and glance at him.
He was visibly furious with a vein bulging from his neck. His hand was trembling and his breaths were laboured. She hasn’t seen him in such a state before, and she regrets that she just did.
No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his anger but especially not her.
Besides, underneath all the tough facade that she puts on and her bold replies, she’s very sensitive and completely vulnerable when it comes to him.
Getting shouted at and taking orders from superiors was just another day for agents, but Harry? She was fucking falling for him.
She sighed, gathering her pride before continuing to punch the bag, ignoring the signs her body was giving her to stop.
He observed her for a minute or two, with his eyes darting between her hands and the sway of the bag. He slid down to her legs, and how they were positioned and stationed.
He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and shook his head in frustration. Did everything she learn evaporate in thin air?
“If you were in the field right now, you’d be fucking dead.” He began walking around her, throwing one sharp comment after the other.
“Are your legs paralyzed? Are you supposed to stand like that when fighting?! His shouting kept getting louder, pushing at her tear duct to open.
He suddenly punched the bag with his bare hand causing it to swing way farther, almost hitting the mirror facing them.
“Is it that hard, Y/n?” He gestured to the swinging bag.
“Where is your strength!” He was fucking fuming.
What would he do if she went on a mission with such weakness? What would happen to her if he wasn’t there?
He was too occupied with his fears to notice her frantically taking the gloves off with tears streaming down her extremely rosy cheeks.
“Y/n…” He tried to speak but her sobbing was louder than his words.
It was just another training. He has been way harsher before but this was his first time seeing her cry because of him. It was more painful than a bullet.
“J-just stop!” Her words were barely coherent with how hard she was crying. He stood in front of her unable to do or say anything.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was never supposed to cry because of him and he shouldn’t have raised his voice this way.
The boxing gloves hit the ground as she hiccuped from sobbing. She picked up her bag from the ground and turned around to face him with red eyes and a broken expression.
“Leave me alone.” The loud thud of the door closing made him flinch. He still hasn’t moved an inch trying to grasp what he had done.
Being mean and strict was all he ever knew. He never toned it down for anyone and it didn’t reflect how he felt towards them. When it came to Y/n, it was more out of protection and fear of something happening to her. He wanted her to defend herself properly and be a skilled agent. He didn’t understand why she was slacking with training like that, missing some sessions, or letting other agents beat her.
She was an amazing agent and managed to reach the top ranks in a short period, just like him.
He lost himself while training her, but he shouldn’t have assumed that she could take all of that as a motivation. There’s no such thing as being gentle in the agency, and Y/n is one tough woman. Still, he didn’t speak to her like that before. If anything, she was the only agent he praised in his ten years of service.
Did that have to do with their secret meet-ups?
Whatever the reason, he fucked up. If someone made her cry, he wouldn’t let them see the light of the day again, and no he doesn’t know why he feels the need to protect her from everything or why he isn’t running after her this instant.
He’s a pretty shit communicator—that’s the only thing he knows.
“Harry.” Ezra snapped him out of his thoughts. He was standing in the doorway with a worried expression.
“In my office. Now.”
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Harry was all too familiar with this office. He has been here a million times for the good and bad. The leather sofa he’s resting on is somewhat his signature sofa, no one else uses it but him.
His legs are spread and his left knee is bouncing as his fingers tap repeatedly on the edge of the sofa. His expression is serious as always and holds no room for bargaining. If you get close enough, you’d hear his blood boiling in his veins and the echo of Y/n’s cries repeating in his head.
“Harry.” Ezra cleared his throat, letting out an exhale before clasping his hands together.
He didn’t need to wait for Harry to turn around and acknowledge him, he had his body language memorized by heart. He instantly caught on and noticed his agitation and stress—something that he doesn’t exhibit regularly.
“I will not question you as to why an agent like Y/n had access to this restricted floor.” Ezra trusted her but if it were a different agent, he could not let it slide easily.
“What I will ask is—why did she run from here crying?” He wasn’t born yesterday. Harry’s bias toward her and his extra attention was easy to catch, especially when he had known him for a long period.
His question was met with silence and the tightening of Harry’s jaw. He kept observing him shamelessly wondering when was the last time he showed such distress over another human being.
“At least tell me why you were training her privately. You have never done that nor should you, but what’s so simple—“
“She’s getting weaker!” Harry slammed his hand on the mahogany desk, catching Ezra off guard and spilling some of his coffee.
“Low stamina and endurance, weak punches, wrong posture, and allowing others to win in matches.” His nostrils flared while his hand trembled from the pent-up anger. The tick of his jaw was unsettling and his brows furrowed with great agitation.
Ezra remained calm partly because he was familiar with Harry’s outbursts, but also because he was shocked by his response.
It would be hard to recall a decade of knowing someone, but if he’s not mistaken, Ezra has never witnessed Harry giving two fucks about someone other than his late mother, let alone an agent.
But damn it if it didn’t make sense.
“So what? Many agents slack sometimes.”
“Well, she’s not any agent. She’s smart, strong, and a skilled agent. Have you thought about what would happen to her in the field?!” His body language was less tense, but his defense grew stronger giving Ezra the final piece of the puzzle.
As the chief director of the agency, he’s slightly disappointed by Harry’s lack of professionalism, but as his mentor and nonbiological father figure, he’s happy for him.
He’s on the road to finding love and caring for someone else is a promising step to de-freeze his cold heart.
Ezra didn’t convey any form of emotion and sported a poker face. Harry looked as if he was still gathering evidence in his mind while simultaneously waiting for Ezra to say something.
“A while ago, Y/n asked for my help.” Harry’s expression changed completely.
“Wha—“
“Patience Son.” He warned, gesturing for him to relax a bit—which he did reluctantly.
“She wasn’t feeling well and told me that she wanted to get some tests done.” The words rolled off his lips smoothly as if he wasn’t casually telling him that something was wrong with her. If it weren’t for Ezra, Harry would be halfway through the door right now.
“The only obstacle was you.”
“Me?” Harry’s voice was rather timid this time—another surprise for Ezra.
“Yes. If she asked for the agency’s doctor to perform them, then you would have known one way or another. The reason she avoided telling you remained unknown to me—but I did help her to get them done.” Harry’s mouth went dry and he felt his vision getting blurry.
Y/n was not feeling fine, and he thought she was slacking.
He was frozen in his place, stuck to the sofa trying to comprehend what his mentor just said. His chest tightened and his heartbeats increased gradually.
“I—“
“The tests came back and the doctor I contacted said that it’s mild anemia. Nothing too scary, it’s treatable.” Ezra stopped right there after noticing the change of color on Harry’s face. He looked like he was about to faint.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He immediately passed him a water bottle and watched him take a few sips with furrowed brows.
What is up with this boy, Ezra thought.
“Do you need food—“
“She doesn’t have a history of anemia, where the fuck did it come from?” He returned to his normal angry self by posing more questions.
“The doctor said that mild anemia can develop suddenly—due to lifestyle practices of course but Harry it’s manageable.“ He could no longer tell his body language. Was he angry? sad? overwhelmed?
Harry stared at the wall, avoiding eye contact but continued his knee bouncing. He unconsciously began cracking his knuckles as Ezra’s presence was erased from his mind.
Only Y/n occupied his thoughts.
His little minx.
She was sick, refused to inform him and all he did was make it worse. His nails dug into the leather sofa, almost tearing off a piece with how hard he pressed.
He was a fucking idiot for not noticing her cues. What kind of sick bastard was he?
“Harry!” Ezra stood in front of him, snapping his fingers to coax him back from his dissociation.
He had a file in his hand that he threw in Harry’s lap. “These are her tests. Take them and fix what you have done son. I know that you hate apologizing—but sometimes it’s what you should do with certain people like Y/n.”
Harry was up on his feet in seconds heading towards the door with the file in his hand.
“And Harry?”
He waited for him to turn around before continuing.
“I know nothing about this.” A hint of a smile was painted across his face with some mischief.
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Y/n was curled up on her couch under her fuzzy blanket with a half-eaten chocolate bar next to her. Her tears barely dried before another wave came through upon remembering what unfolded a few hours ago.
She glanced to the other side of the room where her beloved (and only) companion was staring.
“He’s a meanie TimTim.” She wiped her tears using her sleeves as her sniffling increased.
Unfortunately, her companion cannot comfort her verbally. TimTim is a penguin plushie that has been with her through everything. The nature of her job prevented her from adopting a pet—something that she wanted so badly. Her constant absence did not make her qualified to look after a small creature, but TimTim sufficed.
“…but he has a good dick… and a good heart sometimes.” She rolled her eyes at her stupidness. No matter how badly someone hurt her, she’d always find an excuse to justify their actions.
Her recent argument with Harry had many layers to it. To begin with, he wasn’t exactly a love-dovie type of person. His attitude toward her was slightly less bitchy compared to other agents—but she also drove him nuts by throwing back sassy replies and remarks.
He was the most stubborn and cold-blooded man she had ever met, not because he liked to do it for fun or out of sadist tendencies—it was just his character.
Discipline, Respect, Loyalty. Those were his most sacred traits. Most agents nowadays were weak according to him, so he found himself resorting to tougher training and a harsher approach.
Her eyes didn’t swell with tears because of his sharp words and anger. Frankly, she knew how he could turn into someone else during training, and rightfully so.
But validation from him mattered. If she placed her biased feelings aside, she would find that he was her favorite superior. He’s a talented agent with the right principles and morals. She looked up to him.
She never wanted to disappoint him, but she managed to.
The more she thought about it, the more tears flowed out of her tear duct. The fury and frustration that he expressed pained her, it was so different from his usual smirks that were followed by praises.
When she could no longer handle his disappointment, she broke down revealing all the ache that she had been carrying.
Letting him down was never on her agenda, but neither was getting sick. She began noticing her decrease in performance a while ago, along with fainting twice. She dismissed it thinking that she just needed more sleep or perhaps more days off.
But when the symptoms persisted, she knew something was off. Telling Harry was not an option, mostly because she didn’t know how he would react but it also felt like something that must be kept a secret from him, so she resorted to Ezra.
He hasn’t replied but she spotted him from her peripheral vision upon leaving earlier today, and her emotions were all over the place to give two fucks, which explains why she came to her apartment.
Usually field agents like her sleep at the agency and dedicate their time to the secret service. She was one among many who became orphans at a young age, and this made it easier for the agency to make them stay there instead of in apartments.
No loved ones always meant a safer life for people like them.
Still, Y/n liked the idea of having a designated space for her. If she was destined to be lonely, she might as well learn to enjoy it.
So despite not being allowed to leave without prior notice, she immediately found herself in her cozy flat munching on chocolate and ranting to TimTim as she hiccuped and sniffled repeatedly.
What confused her even more was his expression of regret upon seeing her cry. She was too upset to register it, but now that she let everything out and recalled what went down, she was certain that it wasn’t something usual of him.
His entire demeanour switched and he was confused whether to step forward or backward as he softly whispered her name.
Did he act the same way with other agents? Fuck no.
But does that mean that he regretted what he had done?
Maybe his eyes that tried to decode her feelings exposed him, or his hand that unconsciously moved forward towards her body—
Y/n covered her face with her hands and groaned loudly as if her thoughts would stop colliding. Everything was puzzling her more and more. Was he disappointed or not?
The loud banging on her door pulled her out of her tangled thoughts and vulnerable character.
She certainly wasn’t around enough to become besties with her neighbors or have friends to pop in for girls’ night.
Perhaps the agency sent someone to get her, but how would they know that she came here? Maybe they just tried their luck—
The banging got louder as if it was a warning. Whoever was outside, planned to come inside no matter what.
Y/n immediately switched into agent mode and grabbed a gun from the nearest drawer. Better be safe than sorry.
She walked slowly to the door with careful footsteps and high heartbeats. The door didn’t have a hole in it, so she’d either have to ask who was outside—or open the door.
But her guest beat her to it.
“Y/n…open the door.” Harry’s voice made her take a step back. The fresh tear stains on her cheeks burned upon hearing his words. What brought him here?
Hell, a serial killer would’ve been less surprising.
“No.” She lowered her gun and relaxed her shoulders a bit. More tears threatened to fall as she slowly turned around toward the couch.
He hasn’t been to her apartment before which means that he had some fun with her record. He’s most likely here to drive her back to the agency where she’ll receive a warning for leaving—what else could be here for?
“Y/n… I can pick the lock, break the door, or you can just let me in.” He huffed in annoyance at her stubbornness. She might as well turn on the TV to ignore him.
They both knew that he wasn’t joking. He could break in if he wanted, but Y/n was too busy trying to understand why he came here.
“Listen, I know about the lab tests.” Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. Damn it, Ezra.
So this is what he’s here for. A double warning. One for leaving and one for not informing him of her sickness.
She was near the door in two seconds, unlocking it and facing him despite her messy look and tired teary face.
“Since when—“ She meant to stay focused. She really did. But as usual, he found a way to make her forget about her anger.
He was dressed normally. It was odd to see him in something outside of his work attire, even if it was a simple hoodie with matching joggers. He looked cozy.
But what made her jaw drop was the fresh bouquet of yellow tulips in his right hand.
He got her flowers?
He cleared his throat making her realize how shocked she looked, and he didn’t blame her. She was the first woman he bought flowers for, ever.
The sight of her swollen eye and dried tears made him tighten his grip on the bouquet. A sight that will never leave his mind.
“I—“ She tried to let out something but she failed and moved aside for him to enter.
“Why the tulips?” She stood with her arms crossed trying to decipher what was going on.
“You like them.” His answer was short and clear but it held more meaning. She doesn’t recall letting him in on her favorite flowers—
“I overheard you telling Tania.” He shrugged as if it was not a big deal to eavesdrop on other agents and then memorize Y/n’s favorite flower.
He scanned the apartment with his eyes carefully—a habit of his for safety. It was more out of curiosity as if it would whisper to him secrets about Y/n.
“Why are you here?” Her voice seemed timid and broken.
He ignored her query and continued scanning his surroundings for a hint of her personality.
“Chocolate…?” He furrowed his eyebrows at her but it was hard to focus or look her in the eye without noticing her puffy face.
“Here to lecture me?” She scoffed, walking past him to the safe corner she made on her couch.
She covered herself and returned to her previous position as if her superior at work was not standing before her—with her favorite flowers still in his hand.
What the fuck is up with the flowers, she thought.
“If you want to stand there and give your lecture, then be my guest.” She mumbled coldly without blinking once. The coziness from the soft blanket slowly came back, but Harry’s cold stare fought it.
The last thing she expected him to do was sit next to her and rest his hands on her legs. She had a billion questions swimming in her head and she bit her tongue to not ramble and ask what the fuck was going on.
“I’m Sorry.” It rolled off his lips so easily, but her ears couldn’t process it. She stayed silent and did not move an inch as she stared ahead, ignoring his warm touch.
If she can’t understand anything, she’ll just listen and observe cluelessly.
“I had no idea that you were sick— I wouldn’t have pushed you this much if I did. But still, that’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t push you at all.” His words were direct and his voice was unshakeable. He was fully confident of what he was saying, with no shame.
She swallowed down her throat, fighting the tears threatening to fall down her face.
“I spoke with Ezra…and he gave me your tests. A doctor reviewed them and said it’s mild anemia.” The tears fell silently on her face disobeying her. Harry stopped speaking as if he felt her sadness.
“Could you get up a bit? Hmm?” He rubbed soothing circles on her skin and waited patiently for her answer.
She slowly lifted herself despite her reluctance, but still refused to look him in the eye. He can see her tears falling from the side and it makes him want to punch a wall.
“Attagirl. Look at me please.” He stroked her cheek softly with his knuckles.
She slowly turned her face in his direction as his hand reached out to wipe her tears.
“You’re pretty when you cry, but I don’t like it.” He whispered with his voice being barely audible. His eyes were fixated on her gorgeous lashes that she batted at him. How did she exist like an angel so casually?
“Yeah well, it was you who made me cry.” She mumbled like a child, crossing her arms at her chest.
“I’m a dickhead.” He laughed at the cute face she made with his hand still wiping any new tears that fall.
He’ll be damned if he’ll let her cry again.
“I know.” She rolled her eyes and reached out for the file next to him.
“Y/n—“
“What did the doctor say?”
“Like I said, it’s mild anemia. But nothing too dangerous. I got you the supplement he prescribed.” Harry gestured to the bottle placed near the flowers.
“And you missy will have your diet monitored by me. I want you eating iron-filled foods—“ He barely completely his sentence before Y/n was groaning loudly and slumping backward on the couch.
“Get up. Don’t make me tickle you.” He warned and she lifted herself within seconds with a pout on her face.
“Now the question is… why were you ignoring your needs?” It was the only question that she wished he wouldn’t ask. But nothing can stop him from knowing what he wants.
She stared at TimTim despite his piercing gaze on her hoping that the plushie could rescue her somehow.
“I wasn’t ignoring them, I guess I simply didn’t realize.” She swallowed down her throat, avoiding eye contact.
“You didn’t want to tell me.” He pressed further. His tone was soft but impatient—he’d beg on his knees if he had to.
“I—“ She focused her gaze on TimTim again causing Harry to turn his head around for a look.
“A plushie?” He scrunched his face in shock.
“So?” She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms against her chest. She seemed ready to punch him if he made fun of her.
“No comment.” He raised his hands in the air letting out a soft smile. It was a rare sight, but a beautiful one. She liked seeing him smile as his dimples popped up on his soft face.
“Don’t run away from the question though.” He whispered with his eyes begging her for the truth.
Her tears had dried but her face was still puffy and her eyes were swollen. There weren’t any tears to wipe but that didn’t stop Harry from reaching out his hand to caress her cheeks.
His warm touch was weird to decipher, it seemed able to burn her at times, just like his words.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She blurted out suddenly before inhaling sharply in shock as if her mouth betrayed her without permission.
Harry’s facial expression shifted from softness to something she couldn’t decode—but the pain was recognizable.
She lowered her gaze as her cheeks became flushed with embarrassment. His hand slowly inched away from her skin, feeling unworthy of touching her.
“You could never disappoint me.” He whispered it like a promise. A sacred one. He couldn’t believe that she would think like that even for a second.
He was so fucking proud of her. He pushed her earlier today but he was lenient with her before. A bullet wound would’ve been better to take than her confession.
She mattered to him whether he was aware or not but the clutch in his chest must’ve given him a hint.
“Look at me, please.”
She lifted her chin reluctantly and looked him in the eye. This was her first time seeing him this vulnerable—it was so easy to read his eyes.
“There’s no way you could disappoint me. Ever.”
“I slacked in performance—“
“Fuck that. You need rest.” He shook his head, denying all the false thoughts she had.
“What I did earlier was a mistake and it won’t happen again.” It was more of a vow than a promise.
Silence filled the apartment after his last sentence. They shamelessly stared into each other’s eyes despite the intrusion of TimTim. Harry knew that if he didn’t do or say something—he’d have his lips on her in mere seconds.
“I should get going.” He cleared his throat and stood up.
Y/n was still going through a rollercoaster of emotions. She ached to ask him something back, it was fair to do so. But instead, she decided to let him go.
“Also…” He fetched a paper out of his hand and left it on her couch. “You’re allowed a week of rest. That means no training, no gym, and you can stay here.”
Surprise was prominent on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.
“No objections. I need you to rest.” She’s not sure if this was allowed—if the board knew about the leave he granted her. It seemed to pile up amongst many of the other things she wondered about.
“Okay…” She balanced herself on her feet and walked him to the door.
“This doesn’t mean I’m done being mad at you.” She mumbled sarcastically.
“Good. I like it when you’re bratty.” He winked at her as he opened the door.
She watched him walk away before turning around and looking at her.
“Oh and Y/n? I’ll have a customized meal plan delivered to your house. For fuck’s sake don’t live off chocolate.”
“But—“
“No buts and take your supplement.” His voice echoed in the building as he descended the stairs.
She stood motionless at the door with her arms folded against her chest as she scrunched her face and rolled her eyes at his bossy orders.
“Don’t roll your eyes missy.” His voice was distant signaling that he reached the ground floor. She slammed the door shut in response, unable to contain the smile that crept up on her face.
She didn’t lie to TimTim—he does have a good heart sometimes, but discipline remains cherished.
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caelisblade · 9 months
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¡! JUST A LITTLE BIT … | zhongli, alhaitham, neuvillette
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inspired by isabel larosa's unreleased song, older and the tiktok edits with my favorite men <3 | three separate fics / drabbles
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… think i need someone older.
zhongli x reader
tw: age gap (not specified how much, but min. 20); (fem!-)reader is younger, no specified age but at least 19; daddy kink; pet names (sweetheart, love, angel), overstimulation
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“oh, sweetheart”, zhongli couldn’t help the groan escaping his throat, the pure bliss coursing through his body when he felt your folds engulf his cock. he couldn’t help his instincts and just leaned down, burying his face against your neck as he bit down, leaving his mark on your skin as he smiled and gently kissed it.
“you look so pretty with my mark. i want to cover you in them”, he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly pulled out before he buried his cock inside again, the soft whimper you let out, closing your eyes to a squint in pleasure as you felt a little knot form in your tummy, moaning in pleasure as he kept on moving his hips against yours.
“mhm, daddy”, you whimpered, “you feel so good. you make me feel so good.”
“do i, love? you’re so gorgeous when you fall apart on my cock”, zhongli let out a grunt in pleasure, feeling himself get closer to his climax. “i’m so close, sweetheart. you always make me feel so good, angel.”
just as he felt the coil in his stomach explode, he pulled out, shuddering at his own denied climax, grinding his cock against your drenched cunt. he was groaning as he watched the spurts of cum spread on your pussy and some drops on your tummy. zhongli couldn’t help the little feel of embarrassment as he realized he just ended up cumming like a horny teenager from how you made him feel.
“oh, my sweet baby, you look so pretty when you’re covered in my cum. what would my innocent daughter think of her best friend if she saw you like this, angel?”, he mumbled, trying to distract himself from his embarrassment, scooping up some of his cum with his finger, and spreading it over your clit, smiling as your tiny, body shuddered at the sudden stimulation, hips twitching up and you let out a soft sob.
the thought of his daughter, your closest friend in college finding you being screwed by her dad scared you. but in that moment, you were simply unwilling to think of it.
“please, daddy. i don’t care how she’d think of me. just make me feel good”, you whimpered, your soft and gentle voice reminding him that the pleasure of his sweet angel was a much bigger priority to him than his own. or thinking of his daughter in this moment.
zhongli aligned his tip against your entrance, smiling as he teased you. “god, i love you so much, baby”, he mumbled against your neck, slowly pushing his cock back in as he had you whimpering in pain and pleasure. “let me make you feel good, angel. let me make you feel heights of pleasure nobody of your stupid college ever was able to. hm? how does that sound, baby? nobody ever would be able to make you feel as good as me, right?”
he clicked his tongue in disapproval as he watched you nod, unable to speak up at this point. the pleasure made your eyes glassy, brain hazy from him making you cum at least three times before you started to lose count.
“please, daddy. please, make me feel good”, you whined, clinging onto his shoulders as he increased his pace out of nowhere, the sounds of skin slapping against skin growing louder by every single thrust, making you cry out in pleasure. “please, i’m so close.”
“oh, you’re close, angel? well, let’s speed things up, shall we?”, he smirked, circling your clit with his thumb in an increased pace as he continued fucking you hard, rough, absolutely unrelenting.
the moment you finally came around him, you cried out his name, forgetting about his rules of only addressing him as daddy when you were in bed, mind too blurry and hazy to remember after so many times of intense, earth-shattering orgasms.
“oh, angel”, he whispered against your neck, “you’re so beautiful when you come around me. look how much you came on me, what a mess you made of the bed.”
“i’m sorry”, you whimpered on auto-pilot.
“oh, no, angel. i love it when you make a mess of me”, zhongli then shushed you down gently, “you did so well for me, love. took me so well tonight. you’re incredible for keeping up with me. i know i can be too much at times. unfortunately, though…”, he continued as he drew random shapes on your body. “we’re not really done yet, angel. i got so much more to do to you right now. i want you to be a completely dripping mess, love.”
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… just a little bit colder.
alhaitham x reader
tw: frustrated alhaitham, degradation??, name-calling (slut), doggy-style
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pressing your head against the pillows with one hand as he fucked you, holding your hands firmly pinned against your back with the other, he sure as hell was not playing around tonight.
before you could even ask your boyfriend how his day was when he came home, you noticed from his facial expression that he was not in the mood for joking around. it was so clear he had a rough day and was angry at something or someone that wasn’t you.
it simply meant he just needed his stress relieved by fucking you into oblivion.
“oh, fuck, god, you’re so fucking tight, relax a little bit, you fucking slut”, he groaned, “you’re squeezing me in so tight, love. i need you to relax a bit.”
you tried to lift your head a bit to catch a breather, trying to relax your body from the intense pleasure he always managed to make you feel. “baby, i’m so close”, he groaned, hips snapping against yours in a rough and hard pace. “you’re going to make me come so hard. where do you want it, baby? inside? on your back? god, i’d love to paint your back in my cum. you’d look so hot, angel.”
he was blabbering as the pleasure blurred the line between his ability to think rationally and the need to just shut down and not care about anything else. “on my back, please”, you beg, voice muffled from how he was pressing your face against the pillows.
“oh, you fucking cumslut. you love that, don’t you?”, he groaned and just as he felt his climax, he finally pulled out and jerked himself off to finish off, his sticky cum covering your back in little lines. “fuck, you look so gorgeous covered in my cum. but don’t worry, hun. i got more of that. i’ll make such a fucking mess of you until you’re not only covered in my come but you’re dripping with it.
“please”, you whimpered, lifting your head finally after he let go of your strands of hair, finally able to catch a proper breather. “need more.”
“oh, you’re so needy, angel. thought this was about me getting out my frustrations on you?”
just before you could reply, he buried his cock inside of you again, moaning as you felt so full of him, hips shuddering in pure pleasure as you finally came around him, covering his cock in your creamy slick, more and more with every thrust he delivered as he let you ride out your climax.
“fuck, baby, you’re so incredible. i don’t even remember what i was mad about”, he chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. “you took me so well, angel. i’m proud of you.”
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take the weight off your shoulders…
neuvillette x reader
tw: stressed out and emotional neuvillette, oral (m receiving), he calls you his pretty wife, unprotected sex, breeding kink
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“are you okay, neuvi?”, you asked your husband, noticing how deep in thoughts he was as he sat on the couch after a long day at work. “you’re so lost in thoughts. a penny for your thoughts?” you gently massage his shoulders, planting a soft kiss on his head.
he chuckled slightly. shaking his head.
“i had this… discussion with navia today. you remember her?” he proceeded once you nodded.
“she was the daughter of the previous president of the spina di rosula, right?”
“yeah… she was in my office today. and we discussed her father’s passing. and… it was like a reality check. it made me realize how cold our laws here in fontaine are. i always knew there was something odd about her father’s case. i never acted upon it. i should have. but i didn’t”, neuvillette explained, sighing, trying to hide the fact that tears were burning in his eyes.
“listen, dear. yes, you could have acted upon your instinct. but you are not the one who killed him. this would be an entirely different conversation if you did”, you went around the couch and kneeled down in front of him, holding his hand gently. “i’m incredibly proud of you for always handling these cases so professionally just to let lady furina have her five minutes of fun in court.”
“but–”
“no buts. listen to me, neuvi. you’re working so hard to make life in fontaine so easy and full of order. you shouldn’t be that focused on what could have been but what is coming. let me help you distract yourself a little bit from all the stress you’ve been feeling recently, love.”
you slowly unbuttoned his pants as you pulled the fabric down, slowly pulling out his cock from his boxers as you softly plant a kiss on the tip, smiling as his cock twitched. you couldn’t help a little giggle at each twitch, before you had your lips around his tip and sucked slowly.
“mhm, fuck, take me in deeper, love. i know you can”, he groaned, fingers burying into your hair as he slowly moved his hips up. it was rare for him to lose his composure like this but it made you incredibly happy to know that he was indeed distracted for once.
“mh, no. i… need you. more than this. please”, he mumbled, pulling you up from your kneeled position as he pulled off your shorts and panties before he pulled you onto his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance and having you slowly ease down, groaning as he felt your wetness engulf him.
“fuck, you feel so good, my beautiful wife. always know how to make me feel good, don’t you?”
you whimpered as you felt him thrust up as you rode him like your life depended on it.
“so, tell me, angel, where to you want it? inside? of course you do. you want me to breed you full, don’t you? just fill you up with my cum over and over until i have my baby fucked into you, don’t you? oh, fuck, honey, you’re going to make me cum so hard”, he groaned, body tensing up just before he relaxed again, finally coming buried deep inside of you. “come on, baby. come for me. you want it so bad, don’t you, angel?”
it wasn’t long until you felt the coil in your tummy snap, hips shaking uncontrollably as you finally reached your climax, shuddering in pure pleasure.
“fuck, baby. you’re so fucking beautiful when you’re so full of me. i need so much more. can you handle it?”
2K notes · View notes
jointherebellion215 · 2 months
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Flowers
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Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader
Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.
Word Count: 1.5k
TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??
A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.
Read Part One and Part Two
AO3
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.
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Lily white and poppy red
I trembled when he laid me out
“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”
Nothing gonna wake you now
Drops of blood. 
A wicked, black smile.
“You won’t feel a thing.” 
You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.
The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.
On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.
That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.
While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.
You are a Harkonnen now.
Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.
Your husband wouldn’t allow that.
Dreams are sweet, until they’re not
Men are kind, until they aren’t
Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart
“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”
You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.
You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.
“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”
His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.
“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“I know you don’t, my darling.”
You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.
“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”
Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.
Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”
You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.
“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“
“She did.”
He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”
You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. 
Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.
“I only want what’s best for you.”
You understand now.
Is anybody listening?
I open my mouth and nothing comes out
Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.
Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—
“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.
“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.
Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.
“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.
“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”
Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.
“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”
There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.
You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”
Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.
Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.
Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.
Flowers, I remember field of flowers
Soft beneath my heels
Walking in the sun, I remember someone
Someone by my side, turned his face to mine
The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.
A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—
You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.
A laugh, familiar and warm—
A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.
Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—
The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.
A kiss, given freely—
Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.
My darling—
My love—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
“Is everything alright, my darling?”
You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?
Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—
You give a bright smile.
If you ever walk this way
Come and find me lying in the bed I made
548 notes · View notes
fleshbride · 7 months
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PRESENTING . . . HOUSE OF BALLOONS!
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⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ SITUATIONSHIP GETO SUGURU X F!READER
⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW : extreme toxicity; possessiveness; stalking; relationship sabotage; obsession; suguru is CRAZY, bro is an actual mastermind; reader cheats on her bf w/ suguru; consensual recording; manipulation; reader is a bit dumb; pet names used are baby, dollface, minx, lovely, angel; smut; dry humping, throat fucking, throat bulging, fingering, ruined orgasms, breeding kink, baby trapping, a mix of degradation and praise, breath play, slight bondage, edging & overstimulation, dumbification, sado-madochism, pain play, branding (suguru puts a cigarette out on reader three times as a way of claiming), cervix fucking, sir kink, HINTS of somnophilia (brief description of suguru fucking reader while she’s asleep); dick drunk reader; suguru has a dick piercing; pregnancy.
⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc : 8.3k
⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ guys this is actually so nasty and feral, im so so so sorry. this is based off that jjk men loyalty post and suguru was placed in the middle because he would situationship the FUCK out of you. and worse? i’d probably fall for it and do it too. so then i wrote an entire fucking fic. and i’m so so sorry because this is actually pure filth. i don’t know what happened to me guys… suguru is just actually so nghh
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A SITUATIONSHIP WITH SUGURU GETO is essentally the same as signing a contract giving away the rest of your life. because once you entered it, you were no longer able to get out. it started sweet, of course. suguru was good to you, despite not being your boyfriend. maybe that was what caused the sources of your problems.
you wanted to date suguru and the both of you knew it. despite the fact that you acted like a couple — kissing, going out together, having sex, even saying that dreaded l-word — you two didn’t have an official relationship. and it genuinely drove you insane. especially when suguru got a little too close with girls, knowing your attachment to him.
you told yourself that you couldn’t really be mad because you weren’t dating. so, you started doing the same thing, expanding your options.
and suguru didn’t like that very much.
you two often had explosive arguments that either went one of two ways; one of you blocking the other and severing communication or the desperate confessions of love to keep each other around.
and when he gets blocked, it doesn’t take suguru long to contact you somehow or someway. whether it be following you on a different account, or going as far as showing up to your home, he gets to you again.
it’s an endless cycle that constantly leaves you overwhelmed and emotionally drained. the intense love you have for suguru is undeniable. it’s undeniable in the way you let him back, the way you willingly go back.
every time you hit that unblock button, your friends look at you with concern and express their disappointment, warning you that he isn't good for you.
and deep down, you know they're right. of course, you're aware of the potential harm and negative consequences. but can't they understand the depth of your emotions? you’re in love with him. over time, your friends gradually stop shaking their heads in disapproval. instead, they simply roll their eyes when his name is brought up in conversation. it’s as if they've given up on trying to convince you otherwise.
however, suguru soon reaches his final chance, when you find out he’s been fucking one of your friends. this time, there’s no argument. you’re swift, blocking every one of his socials you know, deleting & blocking his number. that was it. you were free.
a year passes by, and you’re sure you’ve moved on. you got a new boyfriend, who’s sweet, and so dedicated to you. suguru hasn’t tried to contact you, even though he’d never be able to. you move from your college dorm, to live with your devoted boyfriend, you get a new job at a local cafe. you’ve never been happier, and everything is going so good for you.
almost too good.
suguru is a dedicated man, which you had seemed to forget. the entire time you thought he had left you alone, that he too had moved on; well, you were wrong.
moving didn’t hide you from him, even if you thought it did. he eventually found out from one of your friends, and you. you may have blocked some of his instagram accounts, but not all.
you often posted the scenery of your new area. and your boyfriend. it wasn’t hard to pinpoint you from there. you also posted about working at a cafe. so he searched up the cafes in the area — it couldn’t be too far, because he knew you weren’t a fan of driving long distances.
it gave him three options.
three different cafes. so here’s how he found you; it really wasn’t hard. he put on a mask over his nose and mouth, tucked his long dark hair into his hoodie. he went to the first cafe, and he asked a simple question. “is y/n on the clock today? she’s the only one who makes my order correctly.”
from the first two, he got a, “y/n? we don’t have an employee by that name.”
but the third one, god it must’ve been luck. because when he asked, he got the most blissful answer.
“y/n? oh, she works from 8am - 2pm on saturdays and sundays, but she works from 2pm to 8pm on mondays, tuesdays and thursdays.”
that was so much more than he bargained for, but god was he ecstatic. she told him your schedule? that coworker must’ve had it out for you, or something. but who was he to question her and her helpfulness?
what he had to do was obvious from there. he began to frequent your job on the days you worked, however only when you had just left.
he kept it this way, until that faithful day.
it was his usual routine. he had came to the cafe on sunday, at 2:30pm. you should’ve been long gone by now, so he thought. but there you were, working the register, with a sweet smile on your face and a bedazzled name tag on your breast.
you’re even more beautiful in person, he realizes. those eye bags you used to have faded away, and your smile is bright. you’re as perfect as he left you. only problem? you allowed yourself to be stained by another man. but it was okay, suguru assumed — he’d clean you up.
he doesn’t hesitate to get in the line to buy something, even though it’s so rare when he does. he comes to the counter with eyes and shaky breaths, acting like he’s just as surprised to see you.
your eyes are as wide as saucers when you finally set on him. you didn’t see him immediately come through the door, so you didn’t see him for a while… until there were only two people in front of him in the line.
you were internally panicking and screaming, your heart beating so fast you thought it may crack one of your ribs . how did he find you? what does he want? and beyond that, how handsome he looked — however, you shoved these thoughts down. you had a boyfriend now, and you were never engaging with suguru again. simple as that.
“what’re you doing here?” he breathes out as he reaches the counter. you’re beyond shocked, eyes widening as you blink at him. “no, what are you doing here? i work here. you don’t even drink coffee.” and it’s true; in all your time together, suguru never touched a cup of coffee. he swallows, hard, and you wonder just exactly he’s thinking as he stares at you from underneath his thick lashes.
“i have… lately,” his voice is gentle, sad almost, “i come here daily for coffee. speaking of… can i get a large of straight black dark roast? with a dash of cream and sugar.” you nod and hastily go to make it. when you come back, he shifts, rocking side to side. “i want to apologize to you. for everything. can… can we talk when you get off?”
and you should’ve known better. you really should have. but you’re stupid enough to say yes.
he waits several hours for you; you tell him you’re working a double, and you’ll be closing the store. he doesn’t mind, it seems, especially when he helps you mop and clean, helping stack up chairs. it reminds you of how gentle suguru was with you. when it’s time to go, he questions, “you walk home?” when you nod, he scowls, obviously still slightly protective over you. it warms your heart, but you force it to freeze back over.
however, it remelts when he pushes you to the inside of the sidewalk, standing on the side closest to the street. “my boyfriend and i live around the block, so i just walk here and back. i never really get any trouble.” suguru hums; you’re setting that boundary early on.
i’ve moved on from you, you’re telling him subliminally, i’m with someone new. it’s funny that you think suguru cares.
the two of you are silent as you walk, and you find yourself questioning whether or not he’s going to apologize; or is he just using this opportunity to get close to you again? you get your answer when a few minutes later, he stops and turns to you.
“y/n,” his voice is husky and it’s cold enough that his exhalation of your name leaves a white mist, “i’m sorry, for everything. i was wrong to put you through those things. you’re such a sweet girl; you didn’t deserve it.” and a part of him means it, truly. he would’ve done things differently if he knew you were going to leave. “can we be friends? please?”
you feel the cold tears prick your eyes, and you nod, once, then twice. you sniff and whimper out a sweet, “yeah, suguru. we can be friends again.”
that’s your biggest mistake.
because now that you’ve allowed suguru in your life again, you’ve just given him the green light to do what he does best. spiral things into his control. he starts out with small things, starting with planting a seed of insecurity.
you had let him meet your boyfriend, at your boyfriend’s insistence, to prevent insecurity. his boyfriend knew all about suguru, so to say that he was a bit hostile was a bit of an understatement. suguru was the epitome of calm, all kind smiles towards your boyfriend. it was almost… embarrassing for you. your boyfriend was almost childish; when you cooked for the three, and your boyfriend set the table, he refused to get a plate for suguru. suguru took it in stride, however, only laughing it off. this was damn near perfect for suguru; he was going to lie, but your boyfriend was so fucking stupid, he basically laid out the soil for suguru’s seeds.
what’s worse was the fact that suguru is both taller and more muscular than your boyfriend; and whenever suguru stood and looked down at him, your boyfriend would jeer. later, your beloved expressed his slight inferiority. you did your best to reassure him, but anytime you mentioned suguru, he seemed to bristle. ‘it isn’t like that,’ you’d plead to him, with hands out, ‘we’re just becoming friends again, i swear!’
of course, you’d eventually go to tell suguru that you had to distance, in order to preserve your relationship.
he was understanding, yes, but not without a, “why doesn’t he trust you enough to let us be friends?” and maybe that stuck with you a bit. a week later, suguru drops off two plates of your favorite food. he says he was making it, and thought you’d enjoy the meal. he even brought a plate for your boyfriend. you’re ecstatic — as the meal isn’t one you often find in stores, and when you do, it isn’t cook to the fullest. however, while the two of you were … engaging, suguru learned to make it perfectly.
you’re all smiles and cheers, while your boyfriend is livid. suguru doesn’t overstay his welcome and departs with a smile and a nice goodbye for you both.
the argument ensues from there.
“i thought you cut him off?” your boyfriend asks you, his voice snappy and filled with anger. you raise your eyebrows, still holding the two plates in your hands as you move to the kitchen. you reply,”you didn’t ask me to. you told me to distance, and i did. me and suguru haven’t talked much at all since then.”
“then why is he dropping off food for you?” your boyfriend shoots back, almost immediately. you place the food on the counter and turn to him, feeling your irritation simply growing and growing. “for us, you mean,” you correct sassily, furrowing your eyebrows, “it would be different if the food was only for me. but there’s some for you too. he was being thoughtful.”
“why can’t you so obviously see that he’s a manipulative asshole?” your boyfriend yells as he throws his hands up, pacing around the couch. “how dim are you? he did it while you two were fucking around, and he’s doing it now! i don’t want you to be friends with him anymore.”
you’re bubbling over. so he’s calling you stupid now? you feel your irritation shift into anger instead. “you don’t get to tell me who i can and can’t be friends with because of your own fucking insecurities. you don’t get to do that shit, you don’t get to make something out of nothing. and most of all, you don’t get to throw my past experiences that i trusted you with into my fucking face.” you’re grabbing your food, and your coat simultaneously.
“wait, where are you going?” your boyfriend asks, his voice suddenly dropping from a yell to a concerned croon. your shoving your arm into a coat sleeve as you huff, “somewhere to cool off. you’ve pissed me off and now i don’t even want to be in this fucking house.”
your boyfriend wants to protest, but he doesn’t. he purses his lips, and he nods, before mumbling out a, “be safe. keep your location on, please?”
begrudgingly, you nod, before leaving.
of course, you end up at geto’s. you’re venting your frustrations as you eat the meal he prepared. it hadn’t even been an hour since he dropped off the food, and here you were. it’s how he knew that his plans were working, and god was he ecstatic. of course, he couldn’t seduce you right here and now, no. it’s much too early. he has to keep throwing the rock at the window, over and over. until it finally breaks.
this throw is only a crack in your window.
those arguments begin to happen more frequently, suguru’s large crack gives way to more and more little cracks, until you’re at your wits end. you’re not gonna break up with your boyfriend yet, but you’re starting to get aggravated. suguru figures it’s time for him to implement his plan.
you’re laying on his couch after an explosive argument between you and your boyfriend about geto seemingly “flirting” with you: suguru had bought tickets for the ballet for all three of you; your boyfriend refused to go, falling right into suguru’s trap. you were aggravated with him — he denied every opportunity to actually make sure no flirting would happen and denied. then got mad at you for enjoying yourself. but you wouldn’t allow that, tonight. you went to see the ballet with suguru, and honestly the two of you had a wonderful time.
but then, your dress had ripped so suguru held it together until the two of you got into the car. you had walked into the house, suguru shuffling behind you and your boyfriend went ballistic, claiming that suguru ripped it himself.
now, suguru didn’t even plan this one — but your boyfriend was just so good at being a little helper. while suguru watched the argument awkwardly, trying his best to ‘deescalate’ the argument, while intentionally making it worse. you ended up leaving with suguru, ripped dress and all.
now here you are, sitting on his couch, with tears streaming down your beautiful made-up face. suguru’s cooing to you through your distress, giving your back gentle rubs. “he’s such a dick, y/n,” suguru murmurs as you blubber out your frustrations, “i can’t believe he got so worked up… it’s starting to piss me off, too. i even bought a ticket for him to come with us.”
you let out a cry of agreement, going, “which was so nice of you! he complains about us being alone but never come when he’s invited! it’s so… so…!”
“hypocritical,” he finishes for you, pulling you to lean on his shoulder. you comply, even when his hand slides to rub at your hips. “i wasn’t the greatest, but… god, even i didn’t do you like that. didn’t he call you stupid or something a week ago? i actually don’t think i’ve ever done that.” he laughs it off like a joke, but watches your reaction carefully.
the words have you thinking back. no, suguru hadn’t ever called you stupid. when he started getting jealous, he never put you in situations to be jealous over. he was never childish like your boyfriend… your brows furrow and you pout, hesitantly nodding. suguru smiles; it’s working. he takes this a sign to keep talking.
“and i noticed that like… he barely posts you. like you have a highlight for him on insta, and he doesn’t have one for you,” he begins, continuing to caress your skin, before pulling a pack of his favorite cigarettes out of his pocket. “and i don’t mean to infringe on your relationship, y/n.. it’s just weird to me. considering that i had a highlight for you even when we weren’t dating.”
you pause, lightly leaning into suguru’s touch. he’s not wrong… in fact, he’s very right. your boyfriend always told you that he didn’t post you a lot because he didn’t want people in your relationship business. you had accepted it at the time, but now suguru’s words had you questioning.
“am i overstepping?” suguru asks gently, his hand still rubbing your hip, pulling you into him as he exhales cigarette smoke. his dark violet eyes focus on you, and you examine his features, like you used to do before.
his long hair is pulled into his trademark half-up half-down style. slim eyes looking down at you with an all too familiar glaze. his angular, perfect features that had to been crafted by god. he’s… he’s so much prettier… you curse yourself for even thinking it, but he’s so much prettier than your boyfriend. he licks his lips as he watches you watch him. his head tilts slightly.
“maybe your boyfriend wasn’t wrong, though,” he says, voice husky — it sends unwanted shivers down your spine. “maybe i haven’t been exactly appropriate to you. maybe i do want you back.”
you swallow hard, slight shock flooding you. you expected it but didn’t at the same time. even though all those times you vented and brought up how your boyfriend was convinced suguru wanted you, suguru never confirmed or denied. only soothed you.
you don’t know what to say, or how you feel but you know it’s wrong. “n-no, suguru,” you force yourself to say, “it’s wrong. a-and you already had a chance. so many chances.” your scooting away, but suguru is pulling you back to him.
his lips press against your ear as he whispers, “c’mon, baby… please? i learned my lesson. i can’t bare to see another man treat you like this, when i know… we both know… i have my problems, but i can treat you so much better.” you’re trying to pull away, but your body and your heart is too familiar with suguru. you ache, despite knowing that it’s wrong. it’s cheating.
“suguru, i-i can’t cheat..!” you whimper pathetically, and suddenly, he’s pushing you down onto the couch, sliding on top of you. you moan, as you feel him press against you, cursing yourself.
“there it is,” suguru hisses, lifting his cigarette to his wet lips again, “moaning just based off that? he hasn’t been fucking my girl right, now has he?”
“not your girl..!” you gasp as he presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your neck. you protest out of guilt, but god, you don’t stop him.
because just like he said, you both know. your boyfriend couldn’t, in no way, compared to suguru geto.
“not my girl?” suguru whispers as he kisses up your jawline, “you sure? because you’re gasping and whining out like you are. you’ve always been mine, y/n. you know you have. let me take care of you, baby. come back home.”
there’s an ache in your pussy, and you’re sure that it’s your sexual organ talking when you whine, “okay, suguru, j-just please… please fuck me.” the need you feel overwhelms the guilt as suguru presses his clothed dick against you.
you can feel him, pressing against you through your panties, and the squeal you let out makes suguru laugh. he’s sliding you up with one hand and into his lap. he hikes your dress up to your hips and you think he’s going to take you right then and there; but no. instead he presses you down against his crotch, forcing you to get off on the feeling of his covered dick simply pressing against you.
“s-suguru! c’mon, give me more, please!” you mewl as you grip his broad shoulders desperately. you watch as he lifts his cigarette to his lips. “nuh uh,” he says as he exhales, “you’re going to pay for leaving me for some bitch who can’t even fuck you right. ride me jus’ like this, y/n. and don’t stop until i say so.”
and unfortunately, you’re obedient and desperate for any shred of stimulation you can get. you began grinding your hips down against suguru through his slacks, his hardened dick rubbing against your pussy through your panties. you’re so wet that you begin to gush through the thin cotton of your panties, dripping onto suguru’s slacks in a puddle.
you don’t say anything however, yearning for the intense pleasure that suguru always gave you. that year away from suguru must’ve made you forget; nobody will ever fuck you as good as he does.
he watches as you clutch onto him, pathetically grinding and shaking your hips down onto your lap, whining as your panties rub against your clit just right. in a few minutes or so, you’re even ready to cum. suguru has your habits memorized when you were close, and that hasn’t changed.
you still tremble, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. your eyes cross a little and your back arches. suguru grins. oh, you’re so close, aren’t you?
“stop.”
he chuckles darkly, and when you don’t listen the first time, he pulls you off of him. you let out a mix of a sob and a moan, your face twisting into something pitiful. “suguru!” you wail, fat tears spilling over. “i was so fucking close! why would you do that?”
suguru gracefully puts you on the floor between his legs, laughing at your plight. “oh, i never said you’d cum, dollface. i just told you to do it. but it’s okay, my dumb girl. ‘m gonna reward you a different way.” he begins unbuttoning the slacks as you perch between his legs. he’s rolling the black pants down his thighs, along with his boxers and there it is.
his dick bounces free. it’s long, and has a nasty curve upwards. he’s thick too — scarily so. his tip is fat and a perfect round shape. it’s a dark tan, a few shades darker than his skin. and it’s decorated with a silver reverse prince albert piercing. precum slides out, a silky white color. you feel drool collect in your mouth as his dick hovers above you.
“you know what to do,” suguru tells you with an expectant look, his cigarette perched perfectly between his lips, “open your mouth and let me use you. uh huh, just like that lovely, stick out that tongue…” you do as he tells you, hands on his knees as you lean up; tongue out, eyes locked with suguru’s.
he slaps his dick on your tongue a few times, before he slides his length into your mouth. immediately, your lips enclose around him. his hand laces into your hair, using it as leverage to pull your head down his length. you gag fiercely around him, hands moving from his knees to his thighs, digging into his skin.
suguru smokes his cigarette with hazy eyes as he pushes your head down his dick, and back up. the noise your throat makes when his tip hits your uvula is wet and messy, and god does he love it.
your slobbing down his length, your spit trickling down his balls; your eyes are filled with tears, a few even spilling over. however, your plump lips stay wrapped around him. you suck your cheeks in and gaze up at him, submission coating your every movement. your tongue slides against the glands on his dick, making him let out a soft groan.
“take this dick down your throat just like that, whore, fuck,” he rasps to you, his movements becoming a little more aggressive, “did you suck on him like this? lookin’ up at me all pretty. bet you didn’t suck his dick like you needed it; didn’t show him how much of a fucking whore you are, hm?” he puts his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, and then he slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “i think we should. is that okay?” as best as you can, you nod, still swallowing up his dick.
suguru is on his phone for a few seconds, before laughing out, “ha! he texted me. he wants me to bring you fuckin’ home. too bad; you’re already home, right, baby?” of course, you don’t answer. your mouth is too stuffed full of his dick. suguru gets rougher then. his original languid pace is discarded, and he begins to push and pull himself out of your mouth. his tip rams against your uvula, before sliding into your throat. you’re choking for air, sputtering. he’s fucking your throat so cruelly, there’s a bulge in your throat every time he sheaths himself in your mouth.
you try to pull in air through your nose, but it’s too hard to focus when suguru is pressing your face into his pelvis, his heady scent filling you and making you dizzy. or was that just the lack of oxygen? you realize that he’s recording your pathetic display. you’re a fucking mess, pussy drooling as he ruins you.
“shiiit, angel,” he curses, head thrown back, and his locks messy around his shoulders. his bottom lip between his teeth, “gonna cum. gonna cum in your mouth, and you’re gonna swallow every fuckin’ drop, understand?”
you swirl your tongue around him, letting him know you’re ready. his thrusts become reckless, before he spills his load inside of your mouth. his cum tastes nice, as always — it has a slightly bitter tang to it, but you take it in stride. as he slides his softened dick out of your mouth, you open your mouth, letting your tongue loll out; showing him his cum coating your mouth.
his phone captures it all.
“is this your girlfriend?” he taunts the camera, grabbing your cheeks and bringing your mouth closer to the phone as cum dribbles down your chin. “look at her. that’s my cum. this is my girl.” you swallow his cum then, and suguru lets out a coo of, “good slut.” before he’s ending the video and sending it.
as soon as he releases your face, you’re sucking in big breaths of air, coughing and sputtering and wiping your eyes from the tears. he rubs your head while you do so, letting out soft coos of reasurance.
he sits back for a second, sliding his dick back into his slacks, before telling you, “go to my room and get undressed. i’ll be there in a minute.” he watches you nod and scamper up, going up the stairs to his room, your hips swaying.
suguru picks up his put out cigarette as he watches your boyfriend trip out about the video, both of your phones dinging with notifications. he lets out a laugh.
suguru always gets what he wants eventually, especially you.
he’s getting up to follow behind you then, pulling off his tie in the process. suguru can feel his own desperation and need for you setting in. it had been a year and a few months; in that time, he didn’t engage much in sex and romantic relationships. none of them were you.
and even now, when he gets to his room and you’re sat on his bed, eyes soft and legs slightly spread as you wait for him, he knows.
none of them will ever be you.
suguru stares at you, almost unnervingly as he walks into the room, leaning against the wall. it makes you self-conscious, curling into yourself as you press your hands against your body to shield yourself.
“don’t.” suguru says, and he walks to you, grabbing your arms. “i need to see all of you.” before you could even respond, he’s wrapping his tie around your wrists.
“suguru?” you question gently as the black fabric wraps around your hands, keeping you bound. suguru shushes you, before picking you up and moving you to the top of the bed. “shh, lovely. i gotta fuck those thoughts of your ‘boyfriend’ out of you. so you’re gonna be a good whore and you’re gonna take it. understood?”
“yes sir,” you whisper as he lays you down, before his hands are spreading your thighs, to reveal your pretty pussy; soaked with your self-lubrication. you move your bound hands to cover yourself, but suguru knocks them away. “put your hands away, what’re you covering yourself for? i know your body like the back of my hand.”
and he’s right, so you try your best to relax. your tensity is immediately forgotten when he puts a finger on your clit, rubbing slow circles against it. you shiver and let out a dulcet moan, a lovely sing of, “suguru— mnngh, fuck..” he takes so much pride in the way he makes you feel, the way he makes you cry out and arch your back just due to his finger rubbing against your clit.
“shh, dollface,” suguru says as he sits between your legs, spreading them more. his large hand wraps around your calf to put your leg up. his finger trails from your clit to your sopping hole, before sliding two fingers inside.
the stretch from just two of suguru’s fingers had you letting out mellifluous moans, squirming in his hold. he held you still while he pushed his fingers inside of you until they were knuckle deep, thumb pressing against your clit.
suguru was slow and methodical with the way he fingered you; sliding his fingers out slowly just to thrust them back in a fast pace, fingertips curling against your warm, gummy walls. your slick was dripping down onto his palm as he rocked his finger into you.
you were his mess, letting out whines as his long, thick fingers scissored inside of you, pressing against your g-spot. “he couldn’t get you like this, now could he?” suguru asked as he pressed his fingers against your g-spot again, making you squeal. you didn’t answer at first, but when he added a third finger inside of you, hissing out, “fucking answer me.” you were quick to babble out, “no, sugu! no, no, no, he could never get me like this… only you, only you!”
suguru chuckles in satisfaction as he watches you struggle to hold on to the sheets with your bound wrists. “fuckin’ slut,” he muses, “cheating on your boyfriend like some fucking whore who can’t keep her legs closed.” he tuts, and shame floods through you; however, it’s eradicated by the way he curls his fingers against your g-spot, his quick but precise thrusting hitting it every time. your juices are all over his hand, sloppy noises echoing through the room. the way suguru looks at you has your heart beating in your fucking ovaries.
you’re close, euphoria is spreading through your body and your stomach is tightening. your pussy is contracting around suguru’s fingers as you whimper, “i’m sorry…! sorry for bein’ a slut, sir.”
“i forgive you,” he laughs a little bit, as your eyes roll back. “you’re my slut, of course. you’ll always belong to me; always be mine, no matter where you go.” right as your pussy begins to spasm around him, and your body begins to twitch, eyes rolling back again — he slides his fingers out of you.
the sob you let out is tremendous, bordering on a scream. suguru only watches as you sob, fat tears rolling down your already ruined face as you sob out different variations of ‘why?’ and ‘i wanted to cum!’ through your tears as you glare up at him. suguru only watches your pathetic, desperate display as he begins to fully undress. his eyebrow raised as he watches you, slightly smirking. you’re so cute, so desperate for him. he loves when you get like this.
by the time he’s fully naked, you’re facedown into the blankets, still whimpering, your sobs slowing. suguru wants to laugh, but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. he crawls on the bed towards you, grabbing you and turning you over onto your back. you look up at him with teary eyes as he hovers above you. your bound hands reaches up, and you mange to press the back of your hand to his cheek. oh, how you missed this sight.
your hands sneak to his hair, and you pull out his ponytail. his hair falls around his shoulders, and he smiles at you; a genuine smile, and you can tell by the way his eyes crinkle. he leans down, sliding his lips against yours as his hand wraps around your throat loosely. suguru tastes like sweet cigarettes, like a mix of nicotine and love and sex. you don’t know how else to describe it.
“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you feverishly. you try your best to keep up with his insistent lips, as his tongue curls against the roof of your mouth.
“m-missed you more,” you rasped back against his lips.
you guys are pulling away occasionally to gaze at each other sweetly at his other hand trails down your body, caressing you wherever he can. he’s devouring your lips, hand slightly tightening on your neck. “love you, y/n,” he whispers, before continuing on like it was never said.
your heart pumps, and before you realize it, your lips are moving to say, “love you more, suguru,” you feel him grin into the kiss, and it becomes more desperate. it’s messy, the way he kisses you — the way he laps at your mouth and begs for more of you, all of you.
you can’t help but give.
his tip rubs against your hole, his piercing cold against your heat. on instinct, you let out a slight hiss at the feeling. he shushes you gently, as he pushes his hips forward slowly. the stretch of him has your head falling back, and your eyes rolling. your mouth falls open in an o, but you’re unable to make a noise, as if he’s snatched it out of you.
pain mixes with pure pleasure as he feeds your greedy cunt inch after inch of him. your body is trembling as you feel his piercing scratch your g-spot, making you gasp out, before said piercing is nudging your cervix. his curved dick has you going insane, hitting spots you forgot you had. above you, suguru is as much of a mess as you are.
he’s panting, irises so dilated that it’s just black with a ring of dark violet. one hand is gripping your hips, the other squeezing your throat as he spears you on his dick, soft moans escaping his lips. “fuck, angel,” he groaned as he threw his head back, “missed this pussy s’much. you’re taking me so well, look…” you manage to look down, watching as suguru pulls out of you before snapping his hips into yours.
the single, experimental thrust has you seeing stars. your tied hands are pushed above your head by suguru and he holds your hands, keeping them there. he pulls your legs to rest on his shoulders, and you blank. because now, the angle is different, and he’s pulling out and—
the rough thrust he blesses you with has you whimpering out his name, and that’s just the beginning. it doesn’t stop from there, no. he releases your hands, going to grip your throat again as he begins to stuff you full, slamming into you over and over.
that hand on your throat tightens just how you like it, until your noises are gasped and raspy, and there’s black spots swimming in your vision. this, paired with the way suguru pushes his hips into yours, bullying your pussy, has you teetering on the edge.
suguru knows this. he knows your body far too well, much more than you’d like. he knows that when he trails a hand down to your breasts, to pull and twist at your nipples like he does right now, it only shoves you closer to the edge. “don’t cum,” he whispers to you, “i didn’t even really get started, doll. don’t tell me you’re gonna cum just from a few strokes like this?” he smirks down at you, as his thrusts pause. the hand around your throat sliding up to rub his thumb on your bottom lip. the slight relief has you sucking in deep breaths, trying to regain your voice.
suguru decides to help you. he resumes his fierce thrusts, ripping a croaked cry of, “suguru—!” out of you. he picks up speed, jackhammering into you, and your nails dig into the palm of your hand as you’re forced to grip your own hands. he’s fucking you like this, and you’re supposed to not cum? his thrusts snatch the barely regained air out of your lungs, forcing more tears into your eyes.
your clit throbs painfully, your stomach tight as you try to hold on to the orgasm that is so close, too close to washing over you. “can’t control yourself?” suguru taunts from above you with a slight laugh, “fuck, baby, you’re a mess. got your fucking juices drippin’ down my balls,” he let out another chuckle, “pussy just clenched around me too. you like when i make fun of you, don’t you? masochistic cumwhore.” he grips your face, watching your tits bounce fiercely with every thrust.
“it huuuurts, sugu,” you whimper in an agonizingly sweet voice, “please let me cum, please, please, i can’t take it..! please, sir, it hurts…!”
“you love it when it hurts, though,” he tuts at you, his hair hanging in his face, and above you as he keeps up his thrusts. you let out a desperate, pained whine and he softens. just a little. but he doesn’t let you cum yet. instead, he leans down, lips pressed to your ear, “say you won’t leave me, ever again. say you won’t go anywhere.”
you know it’s a trap, but you fall into it anyways. “i won’t! i won’t leave you again, i promise, p-please just let me cum. i won’t go anywhere, i won’t ever have anyone else! j-just please…”
“cum.” suguru says one word, and immediately, you do. your eyes roll back, your body seizes, and your pussy clenches so impossibly tight around him that he can’t even pull out.
“shit—!” he hisses, hands gripping your hips. your clenching sends him over the edge too, his cum pumping into you. he didn’t mean to cum inside of you, no. but now it’s given him an idea. “fuckin’ minx, pussy clamped so hard on me, it had me cum in you,” he rasped as he pressed his lips to your sweaty skin.
you want to care, you really do. you want to panic and make a scene, but god, you don’t fucking care. the feeling of having his cum inside of you feels too good. you didn’t even let your boyfriend cum inside of you. should you be ashamed of yourself? you don’t know. actually, scratch that. once again, you don’t fucking care. all you can murmur is, “just… don’t do it again.”
you don’t care because your mind is foggy, the best kind of foggy. the orgasmic haze you’re in has you blissed out as you’re splayed across suguru’s bed.
suguru is marking you, biting, licking, sucking at your neck, collarbone and chest until they’re littered with reddish-purple hickeys, along with the hand print from him choking. if he’s going to bring you home to your boyfriend, he’s going to bring you back with a message. he grabs his cigarette and his lighter. he lights it, and takes a puff, before looking down at you. “this is gonna hurt,” he tells you, and you connect the dots immediately. you shake your head at him, but he shushes you. “be a good slut, and let me do this. don’t move, or it’s gonna hurt more.”
you go completely still, biting your lip as tears appear on your lash line. he softens when he sees you like this, scared. his hand presses against your face, trying to soothe you. even as he presses his cigarette against your collarbone. in order to distract you, he begins to thrust again. the pain and pleasure fight for dominance over your body, and you focus on the pleasure; even though the smell of your burning flesh fills the room. he puts out his cigarette two more times on your skin, before pressing kisses to the scars.
“i have to make sure that you, and everyone else, know that you belong to someone.” he whispers to you, still pressing kisses to the spot. you barely understand him though, because you feel like you’re fading. drowning in a sea of pleasure that he’s created.
his eyes lock on your bound hands, and the red mark around your wrists. he unties your hands, and you let out a garbled noise of relief. you watch as he presses kisses to your wrists, while still pumping his thick dick through your walls. you’re on the edge again, and suguru flicks at your clit, making you cum another time, your body twitching and your hands grabbing at his skin.
suguru’s close, too, and he knows what he has to do now.
suguru’s ideas are dangerous, but he finds it in him that he doesn’t care. he can’t trust your word that you’ll never leave. he can’t rely on just marking you. he’ll have to make sure that you’re unable to go anywhere, he’ll have to make sure that you need him.
he’ll have to knock you up.
it’s as simple as that. the simple idea of you swelled with his child has him reeling. suguru knows it’ll work. you don’t use birth control, because you don’t like the way it makes you gain weight, and you often forget to take the pill. and, he saw condoms and plan b’s at your house. it’s almost comical. suguru’s sure that you’d take his baby; but not your boyfriend’s.
the idea excites him even more and he grips your thighs, using his weight to push you into a mating press.
everything’s a blurry mess from there.
he’s slamming his hips into you with a regained fever, over and over and over. your heightened sensitivity is unable to take it, and you’re a squealing, whining mess with every move that he makes. your grasping at anything in your reach, mainly him and the bedsheets.
suguru folds you in half as he feels his own orgasm coming. “you’re gonna take every drop i give you, understand? don’t waste my cum, slut.” you want to tell him to wait, to cum on your stomach. but you don’t. you can barely think at all. instead, you lose control of your body as you cum right with him, as he shoots his load of thick cum straight to your womb.
you think he’s done, but no; instead he flips you over onto your hands and knees. he grips your throat from behind with both hands as he slams into you one more time. pumping and filling you, breeding you like some animal. you can barely moan anymore, animalistic whimpers and grunts escaping you instead as he slams his hips against the plush of your ass. suguru lets go of your neck to grip your hair, pushing your face into his pillows as you drool mindlessly, brain fucked away.
“helloooo…” he asks, teasing you purposely, “anyone in there?” when you don’t answer, he barks out a laugh. “look at you. gone stupid on my dick. i expected you to last longer. but no; you’re nothin’ but a dick hungry cumslut.” your body twitches and you make out some noise, resembling a ‘nooo…’, but suguru can’t tell.
“like it when i use you like this, hm? like it when i treat you like my fuckin’ cocksleeve, don’t you, y/n?” this time you manage to answer with a sweet ‘yes!’ and suguru smiles. you’re cumming again, sinking into the blankets with rasped moans. your throat is probably shredded from all the screaming you’ve been doing, but it’s okay.
it’s not long before suguru’s shooting his third load into you — or is it his fourth? you don’t remember, and neither does he.
you think it’s over, and maybe it is for approximately five to ten minutes. he gives both of you a break, and he presses kisses into your spine.
however, when he maneuvers you into a different position, you almost pass out. suguru isn’t done with you yet. the night continues like that, until the rosy fingers of dusk trickle into the room. he fucks you all fucking night, with a few breaks. he fucks you to sleep, and when you wake up, he’s still fucking you. a mix of your fluids soaks his bed, as he fucks load after load after load into you.
because suguru’s on a mission.
so when morning comes and he’s finally done using and abusing your body, he knows he’s succeeded. he scoops his cum off your thighs and stuffs it back into you, and right after he slides your panties back on, making sure it stays there.
soon after, when you wake again, he carries you to the bathroom, and he washes you up, still making sure that not too much of his cum slides out. he’s gentle with you, carrying you on his back around the house, driving you to get dunkin’ donuts for breakfast. the two of you completely ignore your phones, and the messages your boyfriend — well, ex-boyfriend left you two.
in fact, suguru does him one better. he arrives at the house with his arm around your waist and you nestled into his side. your ex-boyfriend is more than livid, more than furious, but he pales in comparison to suguru.
he screams at you, only once; because suguru is there to utter out a, “you yell at my girlfriend like that again, and i will fucking kill you.” and both you and your boyfriend are shocked. but suguru only nods to you, smiling gently as you hurry to collect everything you need. feminine products, clothes, jewelry. important things. anything you miss, suguru says you’ll get later. your boyfriend doesn’t utter a word after that single scream.
of course he texts you, ranging from angry to filled with despair. from “cheating fucking bitch” to “i’m sorry, i’ll do better, just please come home”. he’s soon blocked.
and when you miss your period the next month, you’re telling suguru. when the pregnancy test comes up positive and you’re looking up at him with a mix of shock, fear and excitement, he scoops you up into a kiss, murmuring about how he’s so happy.
because now you’re his forever.
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