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holylulusworld · 2 months

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Mr. Holmes' maid (1)

Summary: You're his maid.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Maid!Reader

Warnings: angst, power imbalance, dub-con (just in case) cuddling/sharing a bed, master-servant relationship

Mr. Holmes’ maid masterlist

A storm is brewing outside your window. Mirroring the chaos inside of you. You clutch the thin blanket you wrapped around your body tighter to shake off the cold that seems to be your only companion tonight.

How did you end up fearing that you would end up on the streets for the storm to take you away?

How could you let this happen?

How could one night be the beginning of the end?

The night started like any other night. You finished cleaning up the mess your master left behind before he disappeared for most of the night, or until morning.

The lights were all out, and you tried to find sleep in your small chamber. You were grateful that Master Holmes offered you a warm place to stay. Most maids must pay half of their wage or more for a cold and pest-infested room. You had it so much better.

“Hmm…that’s not my room,” you heard a commotion in front of your chamber. Master Holmes murmured something you couldn’t hear before he opened the door to your chamber.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Did you do something wrong? Did you forget to clean a room, or break something?

“Why is my room so small?” He huffed and stumbled inside the chamber, kicking the door shut with his boot.

You held your breath hearing his shoes and clothes drop to the ground. This couldn’t be real. He wouldn’t enter your room without knocking.

It was unusual enough for you to live alone with your master. People would talk if they found out he entered your room in the dead of the night.

“Bed,” he grunted before you felt the bed dip. You inhaled sharply feeling his warm body press against yours. He sniffed at your hair and murmured your name. “Warm and sweet.”

“Master Holmes?” You could smell the alcohol in his breath and feared he was out of his mind. “This is not your bedroom. Shall I lend you a hand?”

“Another time,” he purred and nuzzled his face in your shoulder. “I didn’t want to sleep alone.”

Your eyes widened at his admission. He didn’t end up in your chamber by mistake. Your master was seeking your closeness.

“I tried to stay away for so long,” Sherlock brushed his nose over your cheek. “You’re too sweet to be ignored. I want to hold you.”

You stiffened when he carefully wrapped himself around your body.

“Goodnight, Master Holmes.”

“Hmm…it’s gonna be a good night now,” Sherlock sighed deeply. “That’s nice, isn’t it?”

The answer got stuck in your throat. It felt nice, indeed. But it was wrong, so wrong. If anyone found out that you forgot your place and allowed yourself to enjoy his warmth, you’d end up on the street.

“Can I kiss your cheek?” He murmured. “Is it too much to ask for, Y/N?”

Your name on his tongue was too much. You whimpered his name, forgetting about your place. “Yes…Master Holmes.”

“Good,” he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and whispered your name. He wrapped his arms tighter around your body and closed his eyes. Sherlock fell asleep only a few moments later.

You on the other side of the bed couldn’t fall asleep all night. Fear, along with a new feeling in your lower half kept you awake.

You wanted Sherlock to be this close forever, but at the same time, you feared he’d punish you for giving in to his demands so easily.

The next morning, everything was the same as before.

You made breakfast for your master, cleaned after him, and tried to focus on your chores - not how his body felt against yours.

Sherlock acted like he didn’t seek your closeness the night before. He barely looked at you, busy getting out of the house for his latest case.

“I’ll be running late tonight, maid,” he said and looked at you. “I expect the house to be clean, and a warm blanket at your chamber. It was colder than expected in your room. Make sure to have it warm when I come home.”

Sherlock left without another word. Leaving you alone with many questions and even more intrusive thoughts. Was this all a game to him? Maybe it was a test you didn’t pass last night.

Night came and you sat on your bed, wringing your hands.

You couldn’t deny your master to sleep in your room. He didn’t hurt you or inappropriately touch you.

So many days and nights you spent dreaming of becoming his bride, but this was impossible.

Sherlock Holmes lived in a different world. Yours revolved around scrubbing the floors while he solved famous cases.

Lost in thoughts you didn't hear the door open. You stared at your hands, unsure what to do now.

“Maid?” Sherlock entered your room just like the night before. He watched you sit on your bed. “It’s past bedtime.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you murmured and lay down on your bed. He hummed and stepped closer to watch you hide from him under the blanket.

He glanced at the warm blanket you placed on the side of your bed he claimed last night, frowning deeply. “I told you to get a warmer blanket.”

“I got it for you, Sir,” you hastily replied.

“I wanted you to fetch one for us,“ he said and unfolded the blanket to cover your body with the warm and soft fabric. “I want us to be warm.”

Your heart did somersaults at his words. Us. He said us.

“Much better,” he muttered while crawling under the covers. Again, he wrapped his larger frame around your body to hold you in his arms. “Pleasant, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Sir,” you stammered while your heart hammered in your chest. He kissed your neck and hummed against your skin.

“Did you ever spend the night with a man, Y/N?”

You shook your head, afraid to speak. The only precious thing you called your own was your innocence.

“You won’t spend the night with some other man,” Sherlock’s voice was lower when he said the next words. “You’re Sherlock Holmes’ maid, and no one can have you.”

Days passed. Weeks passed. Even months.

Sherlock came to you every night to sleep in your room. He never explained why or did more than hold you in his arms.

Maybe he was lonely and missed the human touch. Maybe there was a part of him that was obsessed with you.

You didn’t know. And you didn’t dare to ask.

He was still the master, and you the servant.

Your world was strict, and servants were expected to be subservient and deferential to their masters at all times.

There wasn’t much you could do. – Not even tell him that you enjoy his closeness and how he smells.

Mr. Holmes Maid (2)

Tags in reblog.

#sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x maid reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #maid reader #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock holmes x female reader

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jazjelspen · 3 months

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scarlet and silver lining (part 1)

(alastor w/ daughter reader)

(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc qwq/apologies for the pacing as well!!!! It’s 1AM LMAO—)

[chapter 1]

Sure, you didn’t actually want to redeem yourself.

Personally, you knew you were in the right place and were meant to be in this spot in the afterlife. You weren’t bloodthirsty and power hungry like the rest of the monsters down here but your sins were from your reckless decisions and you knew you couldn’t take it back.

So in turn, you didn’t truly trust the princess’s claims and theories.

But here you were, in her hotel through her doorstep. Dragging you along by your wrist being gentle but also filled with such excitement that she might’ve tugged a bit too hard for your preference.

As she led you to introduce yourself to the other residents and staff, you couldn’t help but wonder why exactly you let yourself get into this predicament.

Then again, you didn’t really have a choice.

_______________________________

Your hands stopped from fixing your hair, you had been stunned from preparing yourself for the next twenty minutes you’d be on air. Your face contorting while your eyes stared dead at your reflection at the mirror decorated with bright little light bulbs all around it’s frame as they shined their lights on you. Your hands shaking slightly and barley starting to sweat.

Why exactly were you shocked? Your boss.

“See here ____, what I need you to do is to simply get in through inside the princess’s little hotel and spy for me for a few weeks here and there! Document everything for me, whichever way you can. “

Vox, your boss, was ordering you on a new mission for you to do. He wouldn’t have you do these kinds of things regularly unless he needed some kind of spy or a pretty face for a segment of his show to get more ratings or as a distraction of sorts. Although lately he’s been sounding more aggravated, annoyed—dying to get what he wants. He was facing the set his crew were preparing as they fixed a few lights, checked if the cameras were functioning, etc.

It was good that he was facing that way and you the other, for if he saw your look of shock and slight fear spreading across your face like a disease he would probably question you like some kind of unruly detective for it.

But why wouldn’t you react this way? After all, he was asking you to spy and be around your father. The man you were ashamed of being connected to. He didn’t know this— he didn’t have to know this. For you knew Vox would simply use and wear you out as a pawn, overwork you, maybe torture you and hurt you to get specific answers.

He wasn’t afraid of doing anything to get what he wants anyway.

“Tape recorder, journal, write it on some fucking menstrual pad I don’t fucking care. I simply need to know what that fucker is thinking of doing next with Lucifer’s daughter now on his fucking shoulder.”

He snapped, static overtaking his voice at the end of his sentences. Clearly absolutely finished with this entire situation especially since for all you knew the last time someone tried to sneak in for him they were caught in the matter of a day, and if you didn’t have a direct connection to Vox he would’ve sent you first.. but now you were one of his only options until he really got frustrated.

“Oh but do this for me and you’ll get your own little studio! Your own show! Be your own boss, have your own crew.. you get the idea. All financially supported by me! Oh and you even get to live by yourself.. although—

I still own you. Get that. But you get your little artistic freedom huh sweetheart? What do you say? Do this little favor for me? If you don’t I’ll simply.. kill you.

Or throw you in the streets. Depending on how badly you fuck up you’ll get either one of the two! You’ll die either way.”

You were left a bit shocked, the immense dump of information overwhelming you so. “I—I—“

“Good.” He cut you off.. geez. “You start in two days, two days to get what you need and to at least plan how you’ll keep me updated. And remember, you give me all the information either throughout your stay there or you spit it all out when I need you to still be here on the job.” He fixed his bow tie walking towards the set to start the broadcast, a strong frown decorating his screen before hiding his stress with a cocky smile for the cameras.

You looked at your reflection with a grim look on your face, heart sinking and a shaky sigh escaped.

You didn’t want to see him again. You couldn’t.. you— wouldn’t.

But you needed to do it whether you liked it or not. You knew this.

Survive, get a few more perks and bonuses that would very much make you live your afterlife a bit more comfortably.

It’s just gonna be a month right?— Fuck.. Vox didn’t specify how long simply just… a few weeks. Most likely he just wants you to be there as long as you could.

Keep your life, get a better job, better home home, stay protected. That’s what you’ve been focusing for all these years—

Why stop now.

____________________________________

Dragged by the princess you were stopped in front of a group of sinners, your other hand almost losing its grip on your suitcase but managed to catch it by the tips of your fingers. The sweat from the anxiety that was accumulating while on your way here.

It weirded you out a bit that Charlie didn’t react to your drenched hand. maybe she was too overwhelmed with emotions as well to notice?…

Charlie set you in front of a pink spider, someone you knew all too well from the constant advertisements, short interactions with him, and Valentino’s undying yapping, Angel Dust.

“Angel, meet ____, _____ meet Angel!! She’s going to stay here for a chance at redemptiooon!! How amazing!” Her excitement was pouring out like thunder and lightening, just simply uncontainable.

The pink soul darted its eyes at you with a sense of familiarity. You knew being a known figure would be a bit of a challenge but god— you really wanted that place to yourself.

“Heyy.. Angel..” you waved a little sheepishly, knowing how awkward this feels for you at least.

Angel eyed you a bit intensely, but you knew deep down he sorta understood why you’d be here as well— at least not knowing that Vox himself sent you here—maybe he thinks that your presence is due to the same reason he’s away from Valentino. Needing an escape from your abusers and bosses was something he understood all too well.

“Hiya cutie, didn’t expect to see you here of all places.” He smirked as he waved back at you but in a more confident and laid back way than you did.

Charlie paused at his words, “Oh? You two know eachother?—“

“Oh.. I know this adorable face anywhere!” Angel exclaimed proudly with one of his arms reaching over to squish one of your cheeks playfully, you laughing a bit due to the slight awkwardness of the situation but also because he was one of the very few people you never had issues with despite how much you guys never really talked much.

“She’s a real darling, hard worker and all. Although.. didn’t think your boss was that bad as to make you want to run in here of all places..”

“I was about to say— aren’t you that chick that is on TV for that one overlord’s show or somethin’…” a low and almost growly voice spoke from slightly farther away.

Looking towards that particular direction you are met with a cat-like person, a furry soul with fluffy ears and a seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol the way he drank down a large bottle of cheap booze like water.

Your shoulders raised up a bit in embarrassment, smiling as a way to cover up your nervousness that was already slipping.

“Didn’t we also literally catch Pentious trying to work for him literally not that long ago?.. At this point they aren’t even trying to hide it by sending her here.” Spoke another, this time a more serious female voice descended from a mature woman with long silver hair and an ‘X’ over her eye that resembled those of the exorcists.. huh.

You shook your hands together a bit as you tried to defend yourself in a way, not wanting to be caught this easily “Oh nonono!.. I’m not here because my boss sent me I— I just..—“

“Yknow what Vagina,” Angel interrupted you to glare at the woman that spoke “If you knew anything about how the V’s treat their employees you wouldn’t blame her and I for wanting to be away from them and anything work related.. got it toots?”

Your heart warmed slightly but also let out a huge sigh of relief. Maybe that wasn’t the real reason why you were here but you were glad to know that Angel was someone you could relate the most due to your very similar situations.

“Yea Vaggie! Let’s give her a chance! If Angel knows her and if we make sure she’s here for reals then she’s a perfect second official resident!!”

The girl, now named Vaggie by Charlie, rolls her eyes as she lets out a sigh. “Can we at least check if she has no electronics on her. If this turns out to be another Pentious I will not hesitate this time.”

A single glare from her one eye piercing you with a sharp and merciless spike. Making you feel even more nervous and unwelcomed but.. you knew you had to just keep going..

“Oh Vaggie no need to be so rude to our new guest! We can do those checks later! Right now it’s introduction time!!” She exclaimed almost jumping up a down, a bit too joyous for your liking.

Angel noticed this and side eyed you while whispering a cheeky comment to you “Ms. Rainbow pants here may be a bit much but you’ll get used to it sweetcheeks.” He said, with a tone more sounding of an older brother of sorts.

You smiled a bit at him but then looked away to try to relax, not excited to be ‘introduced’ to someone you knew was in the far.. far corner of it all.

“Oh and this is Vaggie! My girlfriend and manager of this establishment! If you have any issues or concerns you may check in with her, she’s a-ma-zing!” Despite making her sound helpful and less.. terrifying. You couldn’t help but still feel rather intimidated.

Vaggie continued to glare at you with a clear distrust in you. You just waved at her shyly as well, trying to at least not seem as dangerous as she may think you are.

Until Charlie once again dragged you to four other figures, the fourth one a bit behind the first three. “And this is Husk the bartender, Nifty our housekeeper and cook, and Sir Pentious! Pentious being one of our first official residents!”

She spoke each name by pointing to which name belonged to who, Pentious’s name ringing a bell but it was new seeing his appearance. So this is the guy that forced Vox to drag you here instead..

Husk, the cat that spoke earlier simply looked at you and didn’t give another word, downing yet another bottle. Pentious waved at you with the same energy you gave as well but was more or less focused on his ‘eggs’ that were poking at the flesh around his eyes on his tail and Nifty.. well..

She was on top of you, more specifically— your head.

She was sniffing you, eying you like a fucking hawk, inspecting you as if you could be contaminated with a dying virus— your breath hitched as you hoped she wouldn’t smell the fear growing on you as your skin went cold.

“Fairly.. clean….” She then backed up slightly to inspect your eyes with her own giant one only to then scurry off across your body like a bug, causing you to get disgusting goosebumps.

“Pretty.. smells nice.. no dirt—“ she then stopped by suddenly standing in front of you with a big ol’ smile as if what she just did was incredibly normal.

“Hiya! I’m Nifty! Had to make sure you weren’t bringing any filth in the hotel.. I just cleaned this place…” She took out her little hand for you to shake.. being hesitant but not willing to be rude to someone this peculiar— you shook her hand with just two of your fingers and before you could pull away yourself she then immediately scurried off as fast as she came.

“And then last but not least—“

“Alastor! Quite a pleasure, a real pleasure to get to meet you young lady! Please, feel free to be welcomed into the Hazbin Hotel!” Alastor, the radio demon, dad— approached you with such enthusiasm and enticement. As if he couldn’t wait to talk to you.

Your blood ran cold, eyes widened with fear, your free hand clutched tightly at the handle of your luggage as Alastor took the other to then put it up to where his smile was, not kissing it or having your hand too near his lips but still keeping courtesy of when meeting a woman as he usually would.

Even in death, he stays a gentleman as per usual.

“My my.. you poor soul. To have to run away from your employer down to this place.. why he must be a terrible person, isn’t he?”

Ah right.. Vox and Alastor hated eachother. You knew this very well.. you honestly didn’t know much about why they hated eachother other than the running joke that Vox most definitely lost a fight with him.

You died years later after Alastor did so you don’t exactly have the full scoop. Him dying in your late teens and you dying in your mid to almost late 20s. You lived life yet— some would say not enough.

“Poor thing, not to worry! Let this be your safe house! Your haven, your asylum, your refuge!” He exclaimed each two sets of words by twirling you around in an exaggerated manner, in a style reminiscent of the way dancers would spin their dance partners in the 30s. You recognized this move all too well— feeling almost nostalgic.

Although you were slightly grateful for one thing he was doing right.. not being overly revealing or announcing the one big fact you two had between the both of you.

You didn’t need that fact to be running around the place like some kind of daily gossip.

Before your anxiety would make you burst in crying or throwing up right in his face you immediately tugged your hand away, his own keeping your wrist in his palm.

“Thank.. you—“ your hand holding the luggage let go to try to tug his hand from holding you any longer until you then finally managed to pull his grip away from off of your other wrist in order to create more space between him and you from the immense anxiety you were having, your lungs threatening not to quicken and burst like balloons. You immediately went back to hold onto your luggage once more.

“How.. welcoming..” you pretended as if you were dusting off your clothes and your arms as if trying to tidy yourself up instead it really meant to give you a few more seconds to collect your thoughts properly.

‘God.. everyone knowing I’m with Vox is only going to make this real fucking hard— I didn’t think this entirely fucking through..’ ah yes.. you totallyyy weren’t panicking about this now active interaction the past two days huh—

‘just act calm and cool _____, you need that money, you need that place, you need that show, you need protection.. stick to the plan..’

“Uh— how humble!.. of your Hotel staff to be so.. welcoming— your highness.” You spoke to Charlie, smiling brightly as if all of this was just casual conversation.

“A real treat seeing dear ol’ Angel Dust here, good to see a familiar face ain’t it Angie?” You turned slightly towards the pornstar, with him returning your comment by exclaiming with a “Damn right!”

Charlie smiled intensely with a nod, face full of joy and innocence. “I’m so sososo glad you like it here so far!! Your experience here won’t be disappointing! You’ll have an absolute blast!—

oh oh!! Can’t forget! We have to get you to your room! If you’d like you can stay there and rest or come down here and join us! Whichever you feel comfortable with.”

“Why thank you very much your highness, your hospitality sure is a darn nice breath of fresh air compared to the rest of hell. Bunch of cats and dogs fighting like wild animals out there.. need a real break once in awhile..” you spoke as you followed Charlie as she lead the way to your room, giving you a minor tour of the hotel before letting you rest in your new humble abode.

Your act, although part sincere and true, was full of holes. Holes not enough for the normal gaze to see but they are clear enough for him to see.

Alastor would eye you as you followed the princess, his fingers uncurling and curling around his staff slowly and menacingly. His sharp pupils narrowing while aligning with his grin as it expanded with a sense of mischief holding it up by its ends.

He saw right through you, of course he would, he knows when you lie, know when you’re honest, when you’re afraid and happy.

Why lie to him my dear? If you know that he knows you like the back of his hand.

Either way he knows he’s going to have to catch you alone at some point, he must catch up to what he’s missed throughout the years he’s been gone from the living world and even in hell.. although you made it clear the last time you met in hell that you don’t want to see him again he finds it curious how you’re even here at all.

Oh but.. gosh.. how much his little girl has grown.

_________________________________

You were a two months from turning 7 years old now, being adopted almost a year ago was the most prolific moment in your young life. Your grandmother, her real name being Adelaide but you preferred to call her Nana or Grandmama… Nana was better for your little voice to stretch out more easily and faster.

She was always such a darling to you, treating you as if you were one of her own. She told you true most amazing and beautiful stories, shared and sang the most wonderful lullabies and songs that sometimes Alastor would join in on, would make delicious food that you adored throughout your childhood, love you unconditionally the way a grandmother would.

And technically you were hers through papers but sometimes it felt as if it was inconsistent in certain areas.. mostly with Alastor.

Alastor was a peculiar man, as famous and passionate as he was he certainly didn’t have a heart of gold, only open to those he truly cares for like his mother and his radio show. It was as if his heart was surrounded from the sky to the depth of the ground with rusty fences and sharped barbed wire that only allowed very few people and things being let into his life.

You tried to get close to him around this time, bringing him little gifts you made and trinkets you’d find that reminded you of him as a way to get closer.

But he always just smiled at you, gave you a pat, and either said ‘good job’, ‘oh how cute, leave it at my study now won’t you?’ ‘I’m sure your Nana would love it.’ And go right back to what he was doing..

You didn’t understand why that happened— but it seems as if he didn’t bother to get close to you simply because you were a gift to his mother, a granddaughter she wanted to have but he couldn’t give unless through legal assistance,

you were for her to love— not for him to raise.

At least that was the case at this point in time.

It was weird.. you never truly has any terrible or bad interactions but— yet it made you disappointed each time, made you crave for his attention. After all— he’s supposed to be your father. Why wasn’t he paying attention?..

You were currently in your room sitting at your desk, papers scattered with different colored wax and pencils messily thrown around on the surface.

You were drawing something, a gift as a last chance to get him to notice you properly. You even had a special gift that your Nana helped you pick out for him! Surely, your dear dad would notice you now right?

Scribbling the last few finishing touches you then dropped the pen on the table as you exclaimed a little “Aha!” And raising the drawing up high, feeling proud of your masterpiece!

You quickly set the drawing down as you then hopped off your chair to a cower through a little playbox full of toys you had, only to search for one single thing. Once your tiny finally felt the touch of wood and slight metal, you grabbed it and pulled it out with yet again another delightful glee.

It was a small radio shaped wooden charm, the metal being the small little ‘hand’ that moved whenever the radio was operating and transmitting audio frequencies. The perfect gift for papa!

You then quickly grabbed the drawing off your desk, both your gifts in hand your little feet went pitter patter as you ran to the dining room where Alastor was having lunch freshly made by his mother.

Your Nana having recently left the home to get a few emergency groceries, made this a good time for just him and you to connect.

“Papa! papa!” You squealed, Alastor’s brows furrowing at several elements in his surroundings annoying him slightly..

“_____, no running in the house remember? Cant have too much noise disturbing our home.” Despite his scolding you couldn’t help but to just giggle and almost jump in excitement in what you’re planning to give him. He continued “Besides as I have mentioned many times before, call me Al—“

“But papa! Papa!— look!—“ you interrupted him, your voice projecting a bit more into a yell as to have him look at what you have.

“_____, no yelling please dear. I can hear you quite well. I’m not a mile away..”

“Yes papa— b—but!.. look..! I made you something..” you then gently set the drawing up at the table first beside his food. Alastor’s attention finally set on the paper and even stopped eating to look at it. He picked it up.. his eyes inspecting it.

It was a drawing of you and him in a sunny flower meadow in a forest both you and his mother had a picnic in recently, except it was just the both of you here.

The drawing was definitely not the most perfect but it was definitely the cutest. Your scribbles somehow managing to immediately the shape of his hair perfectly, his glasses were visible and his red suit was very on parr with what he would wear on the daily, then there was you— your hair a bit more messily drawn than his and seemed more rushed.. as if you couldn’t yet wait to finish the piece. To top it all off it even had small scribbled words in pencil that said ‘papa’ and ‘me’ and an arrow pointing at each individual figure that fit that description.

Oh how cute.

You stared up at him closely, even for a young kid as yourself you were able to notice the way his usually dark and cold eyes had a twinkle in them, a sort of softness diluting his everyday smile ever so slightly.

It took him a second before you then set the trinket on the table where he picked up the paper from “And this is also for you papa.. nana helped me pick it out for you since I said I wanted to give you a present…”

His eyes darted towards the trinket and even picked it up, inspecting the work and its shapes along with the design of it as a whole. Admiring it almost.

His eyes darted back to the drawing, both hands with both gifts.

“Darling…”

Your little heart ran faster, your hopes were rising up to the heavens. Is he gonna say he was proud?.. he loves it? Adores it?.. hates it?—

“This is cute and all, but don’t forget to draw Nana in next time! She was at that picnic with us too remember!” He exclaimed as he smiled at you in an almost bittersweet way, his softness almost being wiped off entirely.

You frowned, “but.. I made it for you papa.. I’m always with nana so.. I wanted to make something for you!” You smiled fondly at him, trying to still hope for a ‘I’m proud’ from him.

“Aww is that so dear?” He spoke as he then set the gifts on the table on the opposite side of where you were, all while hiding behind a smile.

“Well just don’t forget to add Nana in next time, thank you darling for the lovely gifts.” And just like that he began eating.

Ah.. still the same— reaction. It was a bit better.. it wasn’t just a short and quick sentence at least so that made you smile a bit but.. you expected much more.. a hug, a proud smile.

“Yes, papa…” you then slowly walked off back into your room. A bit down but you weren’t going to let that ruin your smile, Nana always told you and papa to always smile no matter what. So that’s what you’ll keep doing. Even if— your expectations were dearly hurt today.

What you didn’t see was Alastor yet again inspecting the gifts you gave him after you left, a hand tilting it a bit to see it clearly and to have the trinket closer to the figures of the both of you.

His permanent smile’s ends stretched a bit, a ‘hm’ escaping his throat as he took another sip from his black coffee.

He never truly saw himself as your father, never fully taking care of you unless his mother asked him to.

Ah but, it was nice to think that way huh?

(HAIIII THABK YOU FOR READING THISSSS I had lots of fun writing this and omfg I have so many idea for Vox and reader interactions, especially when the plot thickens. But thank you so much for the wait on chapter 1 of this story!! I know the prologue has been awhile but I reallyyyy want to continue this since this is my very first original alastor and daughter fanfic that I’ve written years ago and want to revamp into this!!)

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spirit-lanterns · 8 months

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FAST AND FURIOUS 2

synopsis: you catch the eye of the infamous street racer (part 1 here)

featuring: jingliu, yukong, tingyun, himeko, natasha

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: (street racer AU) sub! afab fem reader (jingliu, yukong, himeko, natasha), dom! afab fem reader (tingyun). strap ons, fing.ering, lap s.ex, s.ex while driving, cunnilingus, dirty talk, mentions of car crash and injury (natasha), blood (natasha), some established relationships, illegal street racing, may be ooc.

art credits: initial D

JINGLIU

Street Racer Jingliu! Who is an urban legend in the street racing community, notorious for not caring about the safety of others, and doing whatever it takes to cross that finish line. She had taken a hiatus from racing a couple years back, but now she was back and ready to instill fear in the new generation of racers…

Street Racer Jingliu! Who is intimidating when she pulls up to the starting line. Many of the racers gawking at her in shock, as the infamous legend herself gets out of the car to scan the crowd. When she spots you in the midst of the watchers, her lips curve to a smirk, and she walks over to you to tilt your chin up at her. “Looks like I came to race on a good day…” she whispers, voice husky from years of retirement. “I hope to see you at the finish line.”

Street Racer Jingliu! Who proves to be a brutal competitor in terms of actually racing, as she’s fast, agile, but worst of all, dangerous. She knew what she was doing, potentially risking her life and others on the road, but she didn’t care. Her eyes are a burning, crazy orange that leaves you thinking of her while you watch, and you can’t help but silently root for her as she narrowly evades tumbling off a bridge and soaring down into a ditch.

Street Racer Jingliu! Who gets called crazy, insane, and absolutely psychotic. But you can’t help but fall in love with that as she screeches past the flags and stops inches away from where you were standing. Any longer and she would’ve run you over, but she wouldn’t let that happen, after all, you were too pretty to be killed <;3

Street Racer Jingliu! Who walks up to you and slides her sunglasses off, staring at you with those beautiful, burning eyes of hers. “You’re the only one who seemed to be rooting for me,” she hums, gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine, “What a…surprisingly loyal fan you are.”

Street Racer Jingliu! Who couldn’t care less about the way the crowd boos at her for almost injuring the other racers. Her eyes are solely focused on you, as she wraps a gloved arm around your waist. “I think I’m ready for another round, care to race with me?” She asks with a grin, pulling you into her car and revving the engine up until it sounded like a roar.

Street Racer Jingliu! Who has you in her lap as she speeds through the highway with your pretty legs draping over hers. Thick, rimmed, strap on plunging into your walls, as she tries to give you the ride of your life (literally). All the while driving at dangerously high speeds.

Street Racer Jingliu! Who has your heart hammering and your adrenaline pumping, fucking you with her cock as she multitasks driving and pushing you towards an orgasm before she reaches the finish line. She’s racing two races at the moment, and she intends on winning them both, eager to claim her prize of a second victory, and your cum staining the leather of her pants.

Street Racer Jingliu! Who soars past the finish line just as you cream all over the strap, one hand gripping your ass before she murmurs “Looks like I won again” into your ear and delivers a tiny spank. She groans at the way you rest so perfectly in her lap, and she can’t wait to take you home with her for the rest of the evening.

YUKONG

Street Racer Yukong! Who is a retired street racer that is greatly admired within the community. She is pretty much everyone’s role model, so when she pulls up to the starting gate in that memorable, yet legendary vehicle, everyone goes apeshit. Completely in awe at the sight of the legend before them, as many start to grab snacks to watch the race of a lifetime…

Street Racer Yukong! Who is a little rusty when it comes to racing against youngsters, but once she gets back into the rhythm of it, it’s like second nature. She’s so unknowingly charismatic that all the fangirls in the crowd seem to love her, yet there’s only one she has her eyes on, and that’s you. The cutest, sweetest girl she’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, as you were the one she used to screw in the backseat of her car back when she was a rookie.

Street Racer Yukong! Who’s maturity while racing is a dreamboat for many of her fans. They all admire how calm and composed she could be, as she narrowly avoids a crash on one of the busiest highways. Everyone is anxious for the safety of their beloved Yukong, but you know better. Instead, trusting that she knows what she’s doing, as you’ve ridden with her (and on her) countless of times.

Street Racer Yukong! Who sees you cheering her on in the stands and smiles softly at the sight. No matter how old you both get, you will always be her number one fan. Evident with how you always wore her old racing jacket, as it was the one she gave to you after a rather passionate night spent in the backseat of her car. (It always smelled like her whenever you wore it, so you’ve always kept it on you whenever the time was appropriate)

Street Racer Yukong! Who decides to greet you at the stands for old times sake, pulling you in for a winning kiss, and nearly lifting you off the ground with how happy she was to see you. “I missed you…” she says in that gruff, husky, voice of hers. “I want to celebrate with you for just a little while longer…”

Street Racer Yukong! Who is impossible to say no to as she drives you down to the hotel she was staying at with eagerness to see you naked again. It’s been…so long since she’s seen you naked beneath her, and she hopes to see more of you after this exchange as she is now back into street racing.

Street Racer Yukong! Who has you bent over her hotel bed with a strap on pounding into your insides. Where she stashed it, you had no idea, but you found yourself moaning in ecstasy, as the familiar pace of Yukong’s hips slamming mercilessly had you all nostalgic. Tears building up in your eyes, as you missed the feeling of her cock ramming so deep in you…

Street Racer Yukong! Who grunts like an animal in heat before lifting your legs up off the bed and slamming back into you brutally. “Goodness…you feel amazing…” she groans, already missing the feeling of being by your side for all those years. “I can’t leave you alone again… you’re mine. Mine.”

Street Racer Yukong! Who doesn’t leave in the morning this time, and instead stays curled up by your side by the time you wake up. Gruff, messy, bed head tickling your neck from behind, as she whispers “Looks like I’m staying with you, dear,” into your ear before kissing it affectionately.

TINGYUN

Street Racer Tingyun! Who is a rookie in the street racing community that looks up to her idol: Yukong. She’s a little inexperienced, somewhat cocky, but that doesn’t stop her from winning a few races before going up to the big leagues. She looks very out of place when lined up besides the other famous racers, but you can’t help but notice her as she just looked so cute standing there! So innocent and so…unprepared.

Street Racer Tingyun! Who almost crashes several times when the race begins. It’s a miracle how she managed to not get into any accidents, as Tingyun was definitely not prepared to handle the brutality of the other racers. You felt bad when you saw the panicked look on her face, but her panic eventually paid off, as through some miracle, she won.

Street Racer Tingyun! Who is stunned silent when she’s the one who makes it across the finish line. Her eyes wide with shock as the crowd cheers for the rookie who managed to outspeed the pro racers. It takes her a moment to recollect herself, blinking in disbelief before Tingyun leaps into the air with excitement. “I did it! I actually won!” She exclaims, suddenly getting her cockiness back. “That’s a legendary race for sure!”

Street Racer Tingyun! Who’s ego gets stroked even more when you walk up behind her with a bouquet of flowers in your hand. She’s stunned speechless at the sight of a cute girl delivering her flowers, so she gets half the mind to flirt with you a little (even though you knew she was bluffing) “Oh? Are these for me?” She giggles smugly, taking the bouquet from you with gratitude. “So cute, say…how do you feel about you and I getting out of here, hmm? I’m sure I can show a pretty girl like you a good time.”

Street Racer Tingyun! Who doesn’t catch the way you roll your eyes at her request, as you did not like how smug she got after winning just one race in the big leagues. You figured you’d have to humble her one way or another, so you smirked and agreed to her proposal. “Great!” Tingyun grins, holding you by the waist and leading you back to her car. “I definitely know how to show a girl a good time…”

Street Racer Tingyun! Who did not expect to have her legs spread over your shoulders, tongue lapping vigorously against that drooling of cunt hers, while pressed against the hood of her car in a parking lot. She was expecting her to please you, not the other way around! Yet here she was, a moaning, crying, mess, trying to hold in her sobs as she gripped your hair with her fingers.

Street Racer Tingyun! Who is panting so heavily while her clit gets pushed against by your nose. Feather light kisses causing her to scream, before wrapping her legs even tighter around your face. “Oh…g-god…!” She whimpers and tries to keep herself calm but to no use. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!”

Street Racer Tingyun! Who you can’t help but giggle at as you thrust your tongue into her walls to taste all that she could offer. She was so embarrassed at the way the tables turned, but you didn’t care, as you wanted more of her cum dripping down your chin and staining the leather of her pants.

Street Racer Tingyun! Who lets out a squeal as she squirts all over your face in ecstasy. She’s trembling and shivering from the way you blow on her clit, and pretty soon she’s begging for more. “Oh…please come home with me later. You’re really good at this…”

HIMEKO

Street Racer Himeko! Who is like a teacher to many of the younger street racers of this current generation. Known as one of the biggest rivals to Street Racer Kafka, Himeko is another legend amongst the community, due to her infamous races and ability to adapt to any situation quickly.

Street Racer Himeko! Who looks so effortlessly beautiful as she sits on the hood of her expensive, yet luxurious looking car. Everyone is taking photos and yelling for her attention, but she merely takes a sip of her coffee and ignores them while waiting for you. You’re the only girl in the world she would ever pay attention to, so you get treated like a VIP as you walk up beside her and join her by her car.

Street Racer Himeko! Who draped her large coat over your figure and opened the door for you like a gentlewoman. “Let’s go on a ride,” she says with a smile, treating the race like a leisurely drive as she was not at all nervous for the ride of a lifetime. “I promise to hold back a little for you, darling.”

Street Racer Himeko! Who keeps one hand protectively on your thigh while speeding at dangerous speeds down the road. She chuckles when you complain she’s going too fast, so she eases up on the speed now that she was so ahead. “Too fast for you, love?” She hums while squeezing your thigh. “I can always slow it down, we’re way ahead anyways.”

Street Racer Himeko! Who looks so ethereal as she rolls down the windows and lets the wind blow through her hair. She looked so…relaxed as she held you by her side, one hand on the wheel before completing the race on one smooth glide.

Street Racer Himeko! Who couldn’t care less about the praise she received from the crowd outside, as she only wanted to bring you home and claim her reward for winning yet another race. “Let’s go home, love. I’m exhausted and I want nothing more than to have you crying my name…” she whispers, pulling you away from the crowd and flash photography.

Street Racer Himeko! Who sees the needy look in your eyes and groans “fuck it” under her breath before pulling you back into her car to finger you. She uses her coat as a makeshift bed for you, and eagerly plunges her long, smooth fingers into your dripping cunt.

Street Racer Himeko! Who smothers your neck in kisses as the smell of new cars and perfume fills your nose with comfort. Himeko was always gentle and loving with you, despite doing something like illegal street racing on the side. She plants a crimson kiss on the side of your cheek, and thrusts two more her fingers into your walls. “It’s alright if you get my seats dirty,” she chuckles into your ear, “I wouldn’t mind any stains if it’s you.”

Street Racer Himeko! Who succeeds in her wants as she has your cum sliding down her arm and dripping all over her seats. She lets out a delighted hum and licks each digit clean, helping you slide up your panties. “Get your shorts back on, doll, I have reservations at a hotel across town. I’m not done with you just yet…”

NATASHA

Street Racer Natasha! Who is a retired street racer that now works as a medic for injuries, crashes, and anything dangerous that happens on the road. She used to be a racer that taught Seele how to race, but due to growing older and having other responsibilities to take, Natasha retired and led a life of healing and recovery.

Street Racer Natasha! Who may be old, but definitely still has some of that racer energy left inside her. She’s quick and efficient when dealing with injuries, and the first time you saw her, she was pulling you out of a crashed car and checking your face for any cuts. “Easy there, don’t worry…” she hums in a comforting tone, “You’re just a little shaken up, I’ve got you…”

Street Racer Natasha! Who suddenly hoists you up in her arms and carries you bridal style to her car to take you to the infirmary. You had no idea that the medic was so strong and jacked, but you figured she had to carry people out on a daily basis, so perhaps this was just another day for her.

Street Racer Natasha! Who speaks so gently and softly to you before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get that pretty face all patched up, hm?” She chuckles softly, placing you in the back of her car with ease. “Don’t worry, I’m a doctor with quite the skilled fingers.” she says with a smile, completely unaware of the dirty implications she just implied…

Street Racer Natasha! Who’s fingers are so soft and tender as they rub some gauze against your forehead to clean the bloodied cuts. Her face is extra close to yours for maximum efficiency, yet you can’t help but think she’s staring at your lips despite cleaning the wound on your head. “Are you staring at my lips?” You ask in a hushed voice, Natasha casting you a smile before patting your head. “I am. They’re very beautiful.”

Street Racer Natasha! Who decided to screw it and place a tender kiss against your lips, caging you in on the patient’s bed. “My sweet patient deserves a reward for letting me bandage her so smoothly,” she hums, eyes growing dark with lust. “Let me spoil you, my dear…”

Street Racer Natasha! Who lets you cling onto her as she fingers your tight, needy hole with some lube. Her thumb presses your clit like a button, and you find yourself resting your head on her shoulder and whimpering against her neck. “Just like that…” she whispers, groaning a little when she feels you clench, “So tight…nngh…you like how I finger you, hmm? Naughty girl…”

Street Racer Natasha! Who slaps your clit with her palm and smirks at the way you suck her in the more she talks dirty. “Oh? It seems you get wetter the more I talk,” she chuckles, leaning in close to your ear. “What a good little racer you are…”

Street Racer Natasha! Who thinks your injuries are too serious to send you home just yet, even though they were just minor cuts and scrapes. She makes the decision to keep you resting in her infirmary for at least another night, resting in her bed while she stuffs her fingers up your cunt all night long. She has to make sure you’re well rested and healed for next week’s race after all...

#jingliu smut #jingliu x reader #yukong smut #yukong x reader #tingyun smut #tingyun x reader #himeko smut #himeko x reader #hsr natasha smut #hsr natasha x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #star rail smut #star rail x reader #star rail women smut #star rail women x reader

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folkloresthings · 10 months

Text

TOLERATE IT / FA14.

in which the older sister of lando norris finds herself teetering dangerously towards the precipice of her brother’s, significantly older, colleague.

( fernando alonso x norris!reader )

track one: gold rush. track two: delicate. track three: labyrinth. track four: false god. track five: happiness. track six: the 1. track seven: daylight. track eight: lover.

✩⡱ warnings: age gap! reader is 25, fernando is 41.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by lance_stroll, f1, and 682,947 others

lando.jpg day 41. dinner with the drivers and a special guest.

view all 300,923 comments

lewishamilton nice

yourusername i’m an honorary f1 driver now

⤷ mclaren you can replace lando

⤷ lando.jpg hello????

user not y/n sitting between alonso and carlos instead of next to lando 😭😭😭😭

⤷ yourusername they smell nicer

fernandoalo_official great pics! saving them now

TWITTER.

IMESSAGE.

the screen goes black as you lock your phone, a sigh settling in your chest at your little brother’s overprotectiveness. when you tuck it back in your bag, your gaze flickers up to fernando’s. he’s hovering with a knowing sort of smile, making you laugh bashfully. you were just outside of your apartment block, his car parked on the street. he’d insisted on walking you to the door, and since the street was quiet there was no fear of being caught, not like you were at your departure in the restaurant. in fact, the midnight quiet was peaceful, the sky dark and the air cold.

“thank you for driving me home,” your voice carries quietly, hands knitting by your side. despite the heels that were irritating your ankles, you felt awfully small under his warm eyes. you knew of his reputation with women, his ability to flirt and wrap a girl around his finger. you weren’t the kind to fall for such actions, but when he smiled at you, you empathised with every woman before you.

“you’re welcome,” his smooth spanish accent warmed the shivers along your bare shoulders. fernando obviously noticed, gaze flickering to the bare skin. “you looked very beautiful tonight.”

biting back a smile, your head dips to look at your feet, hoping to hide the blush that spread across your cheeks. but before you could melt into a puddle on the step, fernando’s thumb and finger caught your chin. freezing, you let his delicate touch raise your head up again, until your sights met and the breath was knocked from your chest.

you thought he was going to kiss you. he’d been flirting all night long, sitting next to you at dinner and brushing his hand over your arm everytime he turned towards you. but he didn’t — not yet, anyway. he only held you there, the rough pad of his thumb carressing your cheek, letting himself look at you for as long as he needed.

but you were sure you would pass out if you let him do so any longer, clearing your throat and stepping away from such an intoxicating touch. “goodnight, fernando.”

he stared at you, somehow more handsome in the shadowed light. he wanted more, you could see it in his eyes, but whether that more was of good intentions, you couldn’t tell. “goodnight, pretty girl.”

he turned on his heel, descending the step towards the street, and you suddenly felt yourself turn cold. the air nipped at your skin again, without him near to keep you warm. the battle inside your head was raging, pulling between sense and feeling.

“wait,” you called feebly, and he was turned around before you could even finish the word. you rocked a little on your heels, fiddling with the keys in your hands. his hopeful eyes only solidified your decision, a coy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “do you, maybe, want to come up for a drink?”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen, and 7,921 others

yourusername home is where the heart is ❤️‍🩹

view all 3,704 comments

carlossainz55 loved seeing my favourite norris 🤩

carmenmmundt mojito date again soon!!!

⤷ yourusername YES!

user y/n giving us the lando content we deserve

fernandoalo_official london 🤍

⤷ user a wild nando appears

landonorris since when do you drink red wine???

writers note: london boy but it’s london girl and it’s fernando singing it

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 instagram au #formula 1 imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso instagram au #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lance stroll x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #esteban ocon x reader

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love4thetinas · 4 months

Text

INKED ( Pt. 1 ) - a jake webber story

summary: jake is in need of a new tattoo artist, and he thanked his lucky stars to be blessed with such a beautiful one.

WARNINGS: slight spiciness, mentions of needles, idk just a bunch of flirting

4.4k words

┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐

Jake was an addict.

Well, a tattoo addict. He would get at least one new tattoo pretty much every week. He loved looking at himself in the mirror after a shower, admiring the myriad of small colourful drawings along his arms. His roommate, Johnnie, even walked in on him doing this the other day and saw him flexing in the mirror - a story they both agreed would stay strictly between them.

But unfortunately, his usual artist closed up shop in the last month, and he was craving another fix of ink on his skin. So he searched around for a new one to fulfil these needs of his.

He opened up Google on his phone - ‘tattoo artists near me’ - and checked the first few results and their reviews.

The first two looked pretty decent, however, there were some mixed reviews about either the cleanliness and/or hospitality. Jake figured that if he was going to get stabbed a few thousand times, it might as well be in a nice enough place.

So he checked the third one.

It was close (only about a 10-minute drive), the photos on their website and Instagram looked awesome, and it had almost perfect reviews:

‘Brilliant work! Will definitely come back’

‘Incredibly talented artist, well done’

‘Friendly, hospitable environment 5/5’

“Hm,” he hummed to himself, going to check their prices which turned out to be reasonable as well.

DM FOR SAME DAY BOOKINGS

‘Perfect!’ He thought as he followed the link on their website to the shop’s Instagram, crafting a message to send.

Hi there, I want to get a couple of tattoos done and was wondering if you had any slots free today ?

He sat with the chat open for about a minute, crossing his fingers as he waited.

But soon he saw three dots appear by his keyboard.

Manager here, of course! We’d love to take your booking,

But just a couple of things before i put you down, can you give a rough idea of what tattoos you’d like and where you would like them?

“Yes!” Jake cheered for himself in a whisper, punching the air in front of him triumphantly before he replied.

I was thinking just some red and black stars on my lower lower stomach? Maybe like 3 on each side if that’s alright?

Jake responded hesitantly, hoping there would be enough time for him available since he didn’t want to have to come back on another day. But his fears were settled promptly,

Perfect. That’s all fine to go ahead, I actually have a slot for you myself at 3:15 this afternoon if that works for you? You’ll have to put down a small deposit and then you pay the rest in full once it’s all done :)

They sent over the transfer details.

He checked the time at the top of his screen, 11:42, he had plenty of time to get ready and he didn’t have plans for the rest of the day. Looks like he would be coming home with yet another colourful trophy on his skin to show off to all his friends and fans.

Awesome, that sounds great thanks a lot man! I’ll pay you now

He replied happily as he walked up to his room, watching as they typed on the other end.

No problem, see you later :)

He huffed a breath out of his nose at the little emoticon smiley face; who would’ve thought a tattoo artist would text so cutesy?

Later that day Jake got in his car, ready to drive over to the studio, quickly fixing his hair in the rearview mirror and chucking on one of his Spotify playlists before he set off. The address was on their website and he put it in his phone for directions.

After roughly 3 songs had finished he spotted the shop, going to park up on the curb across the street. But as he went to open his door he noticed that it was still only 3’o’clock and he had maybe been a little bit eager with the time he left the house, so he went and got himself a coffee at the Starbucks across the street and had a cig outside while he waited.

But as soon as the time on his phone ticked over to 3:15, he was up there.

He looked around the room where there were three other people he could see getting tattooed. The walls were covered in posters and graffiti, loud music playing over the noise of the tattoo guns and artist/client chatter - it was like some sort of vintage, punk hangout, except it was most likely a lot more sterile and visibly a lot cleaner.

Jake walked up to the counter where he figured he was supposed to wait for the guy he spoke to on Instagram to come meet him.

His foot tapped nervously on the ground as he waited. Tattoos didn’t usually scare him, but it was more the fact that he wasn’t used to this new environment and artist. But he was sure it would be fine, they sounded nice enough over text.

A door opened up towards the back of the space from what he assumed was one of the private rooms and a guy and a girl came out, both covered in tattoos, chatting as they made their way to the front of the store.

But to Jake’s surprise, it was the girl who came up to the desk to greet him.

“Hiya,” she said with a closed-lipped, pierced smile, “How can I help you?”

“Uh…” Jake stuttered, he was always prone to that, but especially now, talking to her. “I’m Jake? I messaged your guys’ manager earlier for an appointment at 3:15?” he confirmed as she looked up at him from over the desk.

“Oh perfect!” she exclaimed, “I’m Y/n, the manager.” she clarified.

“Now, we don’t have any more space out here so we’ll have to be in one of the private rooms towards the back, is that alright?” she asked, gesturing to where she had just come from as she started to walk back out from behind the counter, but Jake didn’t hear a word she said.

He felt bad for even thinking it, but he expected some sweaty, bearded biker-dude to be the manager of this place. He was taken back as soon as she had told him otherwise; not in a sexist way or anything, but the image he conjured up in his head beforehand could not have been more different to the woman before him.

She was quite frankly gorgeous. Dare he say it the most gorgeous girl he’d ever met. And she was so… cool, you know?

With black hair, a few piercings, and some tattoos visible on her forearms and collarbone, and as she turned around to lead him away he noticed the small one behind her ear. Not to mention her fashion sense. But it was the way she carried herself that really drew Jake in.

Not once did she break his eye contact, not once did she walk without a strut in her step. Not once did she falter in any way.

“Uh- Sorry, what did you say?” he laughed nervously, having been too distracted, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as she turned back to face him.

She laughed as well, only for a second, but that was enough for Jake to decide that it was the prettiest laugh he had heard in his life. But he forced himself to snap out of it this time for he could not ask her to repeat herself for the second time.

“I said we’re gonna have to go in one of the private rooms at the back ‘cause there’s no space out here,” she motioned to all the occupied seats. “Are you okay with that?”

“Oh!” he managed to hear her this time and nodded. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he smiled widely.

And gosh, was Y/n just trying to stay professional.

She hoped that her client didn’t pick up on the way her eyes scanned his body when she walked up to him, or how her stomach flipped as he ran up beside her and she saw how tall he was, or hell, how good he smelt.

“So,” she started to make conversation as she led him towards the door to the private tattoo room, “how’s your day been so far?”

Jake's ears perked up at the sound of her voice once again, snapping himself out of a daydream to answer the question, “Alright. Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

His smile. Fuck, his smile.

“And you?” he returned as they got up to the door which was slightly ajar so he skipped in front of her and held it open, like a proper gentleman, waving a hand for her to go inside as if to say ‘after you.’

Y/n giggled to herself under her breath as she followed him through the door, taking over to close it behind them, turning back to face him as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Same old same old,” she answered his question with a shrug, “but it’s not too bad.” she smiled.

“Take a seat in my office,” she laughed and gestured towards the tattoo bed as she sat down in her own chair beside it.

“Cozy office,” he matched her energy after looking around the room and taking note of the decor, picking up the pillow that lay at the head of the bed and fluffing it a bit, then holding it on his lap.

“Thank you,” Y/n said quickly as she took the iPad from off the table next to her, along with the stylus, and opened up a drawing pad. “So, you said you wanted some stars, yeah?” she looked up at him.

He nodded as he peeked over to see her screen.

“Sick. Alright, can you show me where?” she asked while once again making the same eye contact, tilting her head to the side and resting the end of the stylus on her teeth, making Jake’s brain go blank.

“Oh- yeah sure,” he tilted his head down, flicking some hair from his fringe out of his face as he lifted up his black tank top. “Just like, three stars on each side,” he traced along his pronounced V-line, even bunching up the waistband of his jeans to reveal more skin. “I was thinking they could be bigger at the bottom and get smaller at the top? And like alternate between black and red with a black outline.” he described in detail what and where he wanted them, but all Y/n could see were his slender fingers running over the prominent trails leading to his pelvis.

All she could hear was his deep, deep voice, with that Southern twang that could lull even the most chronic insomniac into a peaceful sleep.

Of course she was still listening, in fact, it only made her pay even closer attention to what he was saying. She watched very intently as he described the size and placement of it all.

Once he was done explaining he looked back up again, “Yeah, that’s about it,” he shrugged.

However, she was still looking at where his hands had just been - it was only when he dropped his shirt back down that her head flicked back up for her to meet his gaze again, one corner of his mouth being upturned to the slightest degree, but it was enough to catch her attention.

She got to sketching on the iPad, and because it was a relatively simple design it didn’t take long. Soon the template was printed out and she brought it back to Jake who was still sitting patiently on the bed, swinging his legs off the edge but stopped as soon as she came in, leaving her no choice but to stifle her giggles.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to bunch up your shirt a bit and loosen your belt as much as you can so I have some room to work with, alright?” she asked him as she walked back to the table beside him, putting on some black latex gloves from the drawer.

“Alrighty,” he sang as he did exactly that, standing up briefly and turning around as he adjusted the tightness of his belt and the height of his underwear. “No peaking,” he teased with his back towards her.

She scoffed at his words, but she could not help thinking, ‘You think he saw me staring?’ Because where usually she didn’t care about such a thing, she felt the need to keep everything strictly business.

After he was done he sat back down in his previous spot.

“Could you lay back for me?” she asked politely as he gave her a little salute as he followed her command.

“Yes, ma’am,” he joked as he followed her orders once again. She scoffed to hide her smirk at the nickname - she knew he knew what he was doing.

She moved her chair over and placed the stencil over where he wanted it, then asked him to sit up and check if the placement was all right and he assured her that it was perfect.

So without another word, she started to print the stencil onto his lower stomach.

“Tss-” Jake hissed slightly as she rubbed the drawing onto his skin which made her head flick up to him.

“Cold?” she chuckled, assuming his noise was due to the gel used to transfer the image.

However, Jake cursed himself internally for his reaction. “Nah, it’s all good,” he replied honestly. He thanked God he managed to play it off because he truly didn’t know what caused it - perhaps it was her hands touching him so delicately…

“Okay, you ready?” she asked as she picked up the gun, dipping it in the ink and moving it closer to where she would start.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said cockily as he put his hands behind his head.

So she counted down from three and got to work. But something she noticed was that when the needle pierced his skin his breath hitched.

And he was typically good with pain, but this was something different.

“Does it hurt?” she chuckled, not stopping as she angled her head to the side to look up at him, making him deny it quickly.

As she continued tattooing she tried her best to tune out the slight huffs and groans coming from the man below her hands, and instead focussed on asking him questions.

“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked casually as she stared only at her work.

This gave him the opportunity to look at her instead, watching her skilled hands draw such perfect lines. “Oh,” he wondered how in-depth he should go with his answer, “I do YouTube, I make some music too.”

“Yo, what? Awesome!” she said excitedly, “You’ve gotta be pretty good to live out here in the Hills.”

He laughed slightly, “I’m alright,” he stayed humble as to not come off cocky. “What about you-” he started but kicked himself immediately after he said it.

She laughed this time, looking up to meet his eyes, “What do you think?” she held up the gun.

“But you’d think this would be easier by now,” she mentioned, “you chose the most awkward angle in the world for me to work with.” She was half-joking, but she also tried to readjust her arm positioning on his torso to make it easier.

“Sorry,” he chuckled as he watched her struggle, he was going to suggest something to make it easier, but he decided against it.

As she kept going he had to keep telling him to stop fidgeting because he would squirm and move practically every two seconds, but he swore it wasn’t hurting that bad.

As he kept apologising and they kept making small talk she butted in with another question, “You’re not from around here, are you?” She didn’t want to sound rude, but she could not focus on anything else but that hint of country in this alt boy’s accent.

“Nicely noticed,” he praised with a hum, “I’m from Kansas in the midwest, out in the sticks and the mud!” he put on a heavy country-boy voice as he said it, making her cough out a laugh.

“What about you?” he flipped the question back on her.

“Born and raised,” she smiled sarcastically. She’d always wished to go somewhere else but never had the chance. “I’ve lived in this same area my whole life. Still live in a house just down the road,” she shrugged and nodded in the direction she meant, returning to focus on her work.

“Oh yeah? D’ya live with your boyfriend…?” he asked slyly, slightly hesitant but he figured it could just be an innocent question. And while she wasn’t looking at his face she could practically sense the smirk on his beautifully plump lips.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head and replied, “I don’t have a boyfriend, I live alone.” she clarified.

“Hm,” he replied simply as he laid his head back again.

“What about you then?” she started the conversation back up, “Live alone?”

“Nope,” as soon as he spoke her heart dropped, shit. Was she misreading all of this?

“I’ve got two roommates, but no girlfriend,” he said confidently, making Y/n’s heart rate go back to normal.

God, he was good.

“Hm,” she mimicked his response in him same tone and carried on.

But after a couple minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, while they both listened to the music playing through the speakers, she piped up again. “Ugh,” she exclaimed, making Jake open his eyes and look back down at her as she moved her chair back and forth, “you really did choose the most awkward place for me to tattoo! You know that?” she complained light-heartedly with a laugh at her inability to find the right position. “It’s hard for me to reach across like this,” she demonstrated the tricky angle for him to see.

“You keep saying that,” he laughed deeply and then went quiet once more, but when she looked up at him she saw that the cogs in his brain were spinning rapidly.

“You know,” he started, making Y/n turn her attention back to him as he spoke, “you could always just sit here,” he nodded his head down to his legs and her eyes followed.

He said it. He finally said what he had been thinking for the past 30 or so minutes.

“Uh… what?” Y/n said nervously.

There was no going back now.

“You heard me,” he smiled, trying his best to stop his lips from curling up into more of a smirk so as to not intimidate her, but he definitely knew he wasn’t alone in feeling like he was. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be weird, it just might be easier for you, yeah?”

She thought about it, she really really did, but she knew she couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, it would be unprofessional of me,” she said, still trying to convince herself not to just straddle his lap right there and then, having to look away from him because she knew that if he looked at her one more time with those puppy-eyes it would be a whole different story.

“I assure you it doesn’t have to be,” he persuaded. That voice of his smooth like silk - the most enchanting, compelling silk ever spun.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath in, then she looked at the camera in the corner of the room. No one else saw the footage but her, it’s not like she would lose her job.

Fuck it.

“Fuck it,” she said as she climbed on, carefully placing a knee on either side of his long legs and leaning forward to test how the new angle worked for her.

“Better?” he responded in a ‘told-you-so’ type of way - he was getting cockier by the second now he had gotten what he wanted.

She got back to work and looked up at him this time through her lashes, flicking some hair out of her face, “It is, actually.”

She noticed the way he looked down at her every now and again and recognised what went on behind his dark brown eyes - but she paid no attention. Y/n figured that the best course of action was to act as if this was a perfectly normal day and that she did this with every client.

She didn’t.

Her best efforts were put into ignoring his burning stare, and his gorgeous hair, and his perfect nose, and his sexy smile; his arms, his revealed torso that she was constantly touching; him.

But he, on the other hand, used her beauty as a way to distract from the pain of the relentless needle piercing his skin. Her face, her eyes, the expression she made when she concentrated, her body on him.

And time flew, meaning that in what felt like too soon, it was done.

Y/n wiped away the final bit of ink and admired her work, scootching back so Jake could sit up a bit and see for himself, “What do you think?” she asked nervously, as it was always a bit scary showing clients what you’ve etched into their bodies for life.

He shuffled up to have a good look at it, then at her, then back at his stomach. “It’s…” he drew it out, “Perfect!”

A wave of relief washed over Y/n as she sighed, noticing Jake’s line of sight had been aimed at her again.

“Thank you, Y/n,” he said sincerely.

She just smiled, listening to the way her name fell off his lips like it had been waiting on the edge for a lifetime. But then she looked down and realised that she was still practically sitting on his guy’s lap, so she quickly scrambled off and stood next to the bed again, going to fetch a ‘second skin’ from her drawer.

Jake could not help but feel a little disappointed when she seemed so desperate to get it all over with. The last thing he wanted was to have made her at all uncomfortable.

But she wasn’t. As soon as she came back and put the protective layer over his tattoo she looked up at him again from her chair, “You’re very welcome.”

They both made their way back into the main room, smiling and laughing with each other as they continued talking, but in the cold outside room, the burning hot rope of tension that tied them together became even more astoundingly apparent.

She tried to break the tie by going behind the till, leaving him on the other side.

His total appeared on the screen and he paid. He actually paid a lot more than he should have, not taking his eyes off her even once as he did so.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/n,” he said somewhat solemnly. He knew he was most likely going to see her again, this definitely wouldn’t be his last tattoo, but it felt akin to saying goodbye to a loved one, even though they had only been in each other's presence for less than a few hours.

“Have a good rest of your day, Jake,” she returned, a similar feeling rising within her, but she couldn’t let that through to the surface.

And just like that, he was turning around and walking out of the store, walking away from her as she watched him from the back as he left.

Both of their stomachs turned as they suddenly felt incomplete, like there was something left to do but now they’ll never have the chance to do it. It was crazy how before today they had never realised there was a hole in both of their lives to fill until it had been satisfied for the first time. Yet, their time together had been so brief in the bigger scheme of things.

Jake would not let that slide.

As he was halfway down the stairs something in his brain set off an alarm and she shot back up the stairs and back up to the desk, catching her just before she walked away.

What’s the worst that can happen?

What’s the best?

“Oh,” she turned and saw him again, slightly surprised, “did you leave something?”

“Yes,” he said very quickly. “No,” he threw in shortly after, shaking his head rather frantically, leaving her slightly confused and letting out a chuckle.

“Do you think I could…” he clenched his teeth and decided that he would regret not shooting his shot if he left now, so he told himself to just come out and say it.

“Do you think I could get your number?” he blurted out, a hopeful glint in his eyes that made her body react with a physical response.

But she couldn’t, this was her job, and she could get in a lot of trouble, even as the manager. “I-” she stuttered, not knowing what to say, and then took a breath. “I’m sorry but it would be wrong, I’m at work,” she sighed, and he could clearly see that’s not what she truly wanted either.

At least he had done it now and he wouldn’t have to live his life in wonder. “That’s alright,” he said half-heartedly, but trying his best to play it cool.

But he decided to try just once more.

“Uh,” he started again, making her gaze fix back on him. God, those eyes of hers - he had the feeling they could settle wars with just a glance if they let her. “What if I asked you after your shift?” he proposed, crossing his fingers behind his back, praying to whatever was out there that she would just say yes.

And as he asked again something within her screamed at her, ‘Just say yes!’, a doubt inside her was settled and happiness took its place, but she remained collected. She tried to stop the smile from rising on her lips, but as she spoke it was audible in her voice, “It would still be unprofessional,” she started and watched as his face dropped, so she quickly finished her sentence, “But… I get off at 7.”

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my first ever fic ! hope you guys enjoyed, comment if you wanna see part 2 i’ve already got it all planned out.

all requests taken in my bio !! xx

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#jake webber #jake webber fluff #jake webber smut #jake and johnnie #colby brock #johnnie guilbert #sam golbach #sam and colby #fanfic #fluff #tattoos #jake webbers tattoos are so sexy #jake webber is just so sexy

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hirukochan · 9 months

Text

Stood-up

A Severus Snape x fem!reader Oneshot

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Severus Snape x former student reader

Summary: Your former professor saves you from embarrassment when your blind date doesn't show up to the fancy restaurant you were meant to meet at.

Warnings: Smut, Loss of virginity, virgin reader

Wordcount: 5007

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

You did not expect life after Hogwarts to be…this. Whatever this is. Boring. That much is certain. You finished school five years ago with good grades and that was it. You celebrated your graduation with your friends who were already gushing about their future careers and their dream jobs, and you had nothing to offer to the conversation. You didn’t know what you wanted to do after school. And five years later you still don’t know.

You wanted to move out of your parents’ house and so you went to interviews for any job you thought yourself decently qualified for. You ended up working in a depressing little second hand bookshop in Diagon Alley. The owner, some rich fuck that doesn’t even live in London, pays you well to take care of anything that needs taking care of because the shop belonged to his wife’s grandfather, and she can’t bear separating with it.

You also get to live rent-free in the one-room flat above the store. You have a kitchen, a bed and a bathroom and no controlling boss looming over your every move. Life is…good. It’s ok, nothing groundbreaking, but how many people get that? How realistic is an action filled, thrilling life actually?

Your friends seem content with life as it is and so you try to be content as well.

In reality you feel lost.

You have looked into universities, but you aren’t sure if you’d be good enough and the fear of failing holds you back. Besides, what would you even study? In school charms had been your favourite, but was that because of the subject or your teacher? Professor Flitwick had made each class a delight to be in.

You shove the thoughts away, focusing on finishing up closing the store. A friend has set up a blind-date for you. Some guy she works with at the Ministry. She has gushed about him endlessly and you are sure were she not in a relationship herself - she would totally try to date him.

That is a recipe for disaster, but you want to indulge your friend or perhaps just make her shut up and so you go along.

You lock up the shop and hurry upstairs to shower, change and put on some makeup. An hour later you are standing outside the shop, mentally preparing for the apparition. You are certain you’ll never get used to it.

Pleasant, classical music floods the street as you open the door to the wizarding restaurant and bar in central London. This is already outside your comfort zone. Too fancy and too full. Are you underdressed? Are you overdressed? Shit, what if he isn’t here yet?

“Reservation for Everett.” You say to the hostess who swishes her wand and looks through the list of reservations.

“This way, madam. Your partner is not here yet.” Shit. Of course, he wouldn’t be. You are early. Way too early. Pathetic, desperate early.

The hostess shows you to your table and you smile kindly as you sit down. A waiter hurries over to you and asks for your drink order.

“Wine. Red, please.” The waiter is gone before you can finish your sentence. A glass of wine floats to your table shortly after. You let your eyes wander over the room as you take small sips. A few couples sit at the tables, some more stand at the bar, chatting with each other.

You wait.

And wait.

Three glasses later you know you got stood up. You try to fight the tears stinging in your eyes and dig through your purse for some money to pay for the drinks and scurry out of the restaurant as fast as possible.

How pathetic! Hot shame spreads through your chest, your guts twist at the mere thought of getting up and leaving. Your feet don’t work. They simply won’t respond to your command. With all your willpower you stifle a sob in your throat. This is your last straw.

All the disappointment over life after Hogwarts, the loneliness, being lost and left behind by the golden opportunities your future had promised you - and now not even your date could bother to show up! You didn’t even want to meet him. Prick!

“Ms. (L/N)?” You flinch. That voice. You are sure that voice would give you war-like flashbacks for the rest of your life. Running through corridors at night, blood pounding in your ears, already feeling safe as the entrance to your common room approaches just to be violently stopped by those words.

You turn and meet the dark eyes of your former professor for potions.

Severus Snape has not changed in the five years since you last saw him. The same hooked nose, same pale skin. Black greasy hair falling into his face. The long black robes hiding every inch of his skin.

“P-professor Snape.” You reply, because you have to say something. His eyes wander over you, clearly made up for a date and then twitch to the empty seat across from you. They narrow as they see the three empty glasses and the slight redness of your eyes. Without saying anything he slips into the seat across from you.

“Two glasses of whatever the lady has been drinking.” He says as he grabs a waiter by the arm. He gestures towards the glasses. “And get rid of these. What kind of service is this?” The waiter apologises profusely and hurries away quickly.

You stare at Snape in bewilderment. He is sitting across from you. He saw you got stood up and sat down. And he ordered drinks.

He is looking at you. Say something. Anything. Shit shit shit.

“I was supposed to meet someone.” You say, cursing how meek you sound. You look away and try to subtly wipe the corner of your eye where a stubborn little tear tries very hard to run down your cheek. You know if you allow that one to pass your lashes, there is no holding back the rest.

“I gathered.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes still roaming over you. Instantly you feel like you are back in the dungeons of Hogwarts, trying your best to brew a potion while he stares at you, waiting for the moment you fail. You swallow hard as the familiar nervousness of being around Snape takes over.

“A boyfriend?”

“N-no. A friend set it up- never met him.”

“What do you do these days?” You blush. You were afraid he might ask that.

“I-I run a little b-bookshop in Diagon Alley…sir.” The ‘sir’ slips out before you can stop it. A smirk tucks at the corners of his mouth at the sound of it but dies instantly.

“A bookshop? And you’re happy with that?” You shrug. You aren’t, but you wouldn’t tell him that. You cling to your glass. This is worse than getting stood up and humiliated. Infinitely worse. Snape leans over the table, his dark eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place.

“I am not going to bite you. Unless-” You tense. Is he flirting? Merlin’s beard- You feel heat rise to your face and stare down at the wine in your hands. “I apologise. This is inappropriate and you clearly wish to be as far away from me as possible. I’ll leave you to it.” Snape says, an edge of self-loathing sneaking into his voice. He digs through his pocket and puts down a few coins on the table.

“Stay-” You have no idea how you manage to force the word out of your constricting throat but there it is. Out in the open.

Snape stares at you in disbelief. You take a shaky, deep breath and look up to meet his intense gaze.

“Stay.” You repeat, firmer this time. That expression flashes through his eyes again and after a moment of hesitation he settles down.

“U-unless I am keeping you from meeting someone. I-” You hadn’t considered why he might be here. Shit, is he on a date? And instead of that he took pity on you? Does Snape date?

He chuckles. The sound as foreign to your ears as kindness or praise from him. It goes straight to your core, and you gulp as you are violently tossed back into your old crush. That is the last thing you need now!

Imagining him doing all sorts of things to you during class was bad enough already - mainly because it really messed with your grade - but imagining them now that you are no longer his student, no longer sixteen- You blush even more as you realise that - in theory - you could do these things now.

It has been five years since you graduated, sure it is a bit weird maybe, but entirely allowed. You have not been in contact with him since graduation. He has made no inappropriate comment to you while you were his student ever- in fact he barely ever talked to you.

You feel Snape’s hot gaze burn through your skull. It’s almost like he knows. Which is entirely impossible. Or is it? He has the uncanny ability to know when students are planning mischief behind his back and such things as reading minds isn’t at all a ridiculous idea to wizards- shit.

Snape’s lips curl as you stare at him.

“Oh, yes.” His smooth voice says in your head. “I know. I know all the little fantasies you have been coming up with for years.” The colour vanishes from your face. You take a big gulp of your wine, downing the entire thing in one go to aid your suddenly parched throat. Snape swirls the wine in his glass, never taking his eyes off you.

“A-and is that some-something you’d…you’d want?” You ask. Your heart twists and turns in your chest, your insides clench almost uncomfortably. You have no idea where you take the bravery from to say it out loud.

His grin grows, his eyes darken, snapping down to the neckline of your dress. In one smooth movement he gets up and holds his hand out to you.

This is it.

The one opportunity you’d get.

You take his hand.

Your skin tingles where it touches him and a giddy feeling spreads through you.

You are going to sleep with your Potions professor. Former professor. Dark, unapproachable, cruel Snape. The man you have been fantasising about since 6th grade. The man that terrifies you as much as he intrigues you.

Together you leave the restaurant. He guides you towards an abandoned alley and lets go of your hand to snake his arm around your waist.

“Hold on tight.” He whispers in his ear. You can feel his breath on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine. You take a shaky breath and put your arms around his waist. You are swept up in his scent, musky and herbal. It clouds your mind instantly and you bite your tongue so you don’t inhale deeper just so it can flood your senses more. His magic wraps around you and you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the apparition to pass. You can feel the chuckle rumble through Snape’s chest before you hear it.

“Still no fan?”

“No.” You reply breathless and separate from him. He holds onto your waist, eyeing you as though he expects you to collapse. Right- You did. During Apparition training in your 7th year, you lost consciousness after your first successful attempt. He was one of the teachers overseeing the training.

You blush as the memory of how embarrassed you felt waking up in his arms, your whole year watching, resurfaces in your mind. You clear your throat and look around. You’re in Diagon Alley, not far away from the bookshop. You dig through your pocket and get out the key as you walk towards it.

You are going to have sex.

You are going to have sex with Snape. He’s walking right behind you. Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover how you feel.

“This is it.” You say and close the door behind you. Your flat looks terribly small with Snape standing in it.

“Do you still want me to stay?”

“Yes. I’m just-”

“Yes?” He steps closer.

“You intimidate me.”

“Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing?”

“Good.” You reply breathlessly. Your mind is already foggy just from him standing so close to you. His eyes roam over your face, as though he is determined to enter all its details to his memory. Your heart beats impossibly fast in your chest, smashing against your ribcage so hard you wonder whether Snape can hear it. He leans down, inky hair falling into his face, stealing your view of the room around you.

Your insides clench and scream for him to kiss you. Finally kiss you. You bite your bottom lip to stop its pathetic quivering. His scent floods your senses and briefly renders your mind nonexistent.

Snape runs his fingertips over your arm, starting at your wrist and drawing goosebumps across your naked skin, all the way up to your shoulder. Your breath hitches and you barely manage to withstand the urge to hold onto him.

“You’d have to take this off first.” He says, quiet, calm. His voice sends a shiver through your body. He drags his fingers over your shoulder to your neck. He takes the zipper and slowly pulls it down, the sound resounds in your room loud like thunder.

He barely touches your skin when he peels the straps off your shoulder and gently tugs the dress down and over your hips. It pools around your feet on the ground.

Snape takes a step back and takes in your body. You aren’t wearing a bra, you own none that would have looked good with the dress and stand in front of him only in a pair of black lace knickers.

His eyes remain as unreadable as they always are. He seems to assess your body with the same impartiality as he used to look at your potions. You shiver, cold air swirling around your heated skin, goosebumps spread across your skin and your nipples harden. Your face is burning hot though, and you barely resist the impulse of covering yourself with your arms.

Just when you begin to think this is some cruel joke, he is playing on you to embarrass you, he closes the distance between you two - too fast for your mind to catch up. He grabs your waist and smashes your body against his. His lips crash against your collarbone, his teeth graze your skin.

You gasp and sink your hands into his hair, marvelling at how soft it feels. He kisses your skin, sucks and nibbles. White hot lust seeps into your skin from the saliva he spreads across it.

He holds your waist in his surprisingly strong arms and attacks your chest, worshipping every inch of you as though you are some ancient artefact promising prosperity and luck to loyal devotees. He groans against you, and you join with a moan of yourself, arching your back, offering your chest up to him. He accepts without hesitation, with enthusiasm even. Snape licks broad, firm strokes over your exposed breast, roughly kneading the other with his hand.

His thorough attention is dizzying. Blood pounds in your ears and waves upon waves of merciless pleasure course through you, twisting your vocal cords into the strangest of sounds you have never heard yourself make.

“Are you a virgin?” He groans against your skin.

“Y-yes-” He stops, dead in his tracks. Slowly his head tilts back, his gaze snapping in on yours.

“Yes?” Hunger flashes through his eyes and he licks his lips. “How the fuck are you still a virgin?” You blush more fiercely if that is even possible. Your shrug and drops your hands to his shoulders.

“Um- nobody was ever interested in me like that.”

“You’re what? Twenty-one?”

“Twenty-two.”

“And nobody ever touched your gorgeous fucking body?” He sounds baffled, like your words are the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard.

“Touched, yes…snogging at parties in the common room and such, but-” Your voice trails off.

“You are telling me.” He says, his voice growing to untamed deep turmoil of unabashed desire and feral lust. “Nobody ever sucked on these dainty, splendid nipples?” As if to emphasise his words he closes his lips around one, holding it between his teeth and flicking his tongue over it. You whimper. Your legs shake under the weight of your own body, and you cling to his shoulders. His eyes never leave you, the weight of them heavy on you, buzzing on your skin. You throw your head back, moaning like you’ve never moaned before.

He chuckles, the vibration of it ripples through the tissue of your breast and sinks deep into your body, melting into your bones. He kisses his way back up to your collarbone and neck.

“Fools. Every single one of them that did not realise what they are missing out on.” He gently sucks on the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. He steers you backwards until your calves meet the frame of your bed and you allow your body to fall back.

Snape kicks his shoes off and slips out of his cloak before he follows you, crawling over the bed, up your body like a predator about to devour his prey. A shiver rushes through you at that thought. Yes- you want him to devour you, to worship you, to ruin you and build you back up. He braces his arms against the mattress on either side of your head.

“And you still want me to stay?” The words fall into the space between your bodies, filled with heat and want, desire and fear, buzzing with anticipation. His eyes are softer somehow, less intense, but not less hungry. They tell you how much he wants you, craves you but also tell you he’d stop. You just need to say the word and he will leave. Without shaming you, without a cruel word or ounce of disappointment.

“Yes.”

“You want to give this first experience to me? Of all people?”

“I’ve always wanted it to be you.” Snape groans and closes his eyes. His head drops, coming to rest against your shoulder, nestling to the crook of your neck.

“Do you have any idea-” He is breathing heavy, clenching his fists in your sheets, his body one large, tensed muscle. “-what you do to me?” Before you can answer he grabs one of your hands and brings it down. He presses it against his upper thigh where his cock is very hard, straining against its confines. You gasp at which Snape smirks. He rolls his hips against your hand.

“It’s big…” You whisper, more fear mixing in with your burning arousal.

“You can take it.” He leans down. His lips brush over your cheek. “I’ll make sure of it.” His breath dances over the shell of your ear, prickling. As soon as it passes your skin feels terribly cold, like it’s never going to be warm ever again just to be replaced by burning heat. Snape drags the tip of his tongue across the shell of your ear and back down to close his lips around your earlobe.

The whimper that falls from your lips at that is more of a high pitched squeak and finally, finally he kisses you. His lips are soft like silk and warm, reminding you of a mug of butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks in winter.

You sigh and move your lips with his, threading your fingers through his hair. Despite the way he has been acting so far, he kisses you passionately, almost slow, but no less thorough.

Severus Snape is nothing if not thorough.

And he intends to savour you.

You part your lips for him, eager to move this along, eager to feel him and the pleasure he can bring you, but when it comes to actually deepening the kiss you hesitate. Snape senses your nervousness and takes over the decision making from you. The tip of his tongue meets yours and he slides it slowly over your own, easing you into the kiss and coaxing a small moan from you.

You relax against him and surrender yourself to his touch once more. You have never been kissed like this. With want and need, with passion and hunger. He maps out your mouth as though he is trying to dissect a potion he has never seen into its separate components.

His hands run over your body, your sides and stomach to your thighs. You whine at his touch and muscles twitch under your skin as if to reach out to his calloused fingers. The wool of his frock rubs against your skin when he moves. You reach out to work on the endless row of buttons but are rather abruptly interrupted by his fingers against your cunt.

A surprised, shuddering gasp escapes you and your fingers tense against his chest. Snape chuckles into the kiss, never once stopping his assault on your mouth. Playful he circles your entrance, gathering you slick and spreading it to your clit. You cling to his shoulders and push your head back into the pillows. Pressure builds deep in your cunt, and you need him to ease it- need him to- to-

“Ahh-” You cry out and dig your nails into Snape’s shoulders. Your own fingers never felt that fucking good.

“Are we enjoying ourself?” Snape teases, watching the pleasure drunk expression on your face.

“Mhh…Snape-” You buck your hips into his hand. “Please- fuck me-”

“Patience, dear. I told you I would make sure you can take me.” He teases your entrance with a finger, coating it in your slick and then gently pushes inside you. “I will fuck you. I will fuck you so well nobody will ever compare to me, but first I’ll stretch this virgin cunt because as you so eloquently put it - It’s big.”

“There was this rumour back in school-” You murmur, blissful pleasure clouding your mind and rendering it utterly useless. “-that- that….oohhh-”

“That I’m a virgin?” He smirks. He pumps his finger inside you, curling it and pressing upwards slightly and a flash of searing pleasure explodes inside your cunt, and you squirm under him, rolling your hips into his touch to get more more more. “Does it feel like I am? Like I’ve never touched a woman?”

“Snape-”

“Dear, believe me, I know your body better than you.” You want to get offended by that statement. What a man thing to say but then Snape does something with his finger, twisting and curling at the same time or something else, interrupting your thoughts harshly with another mind-blowing ripple of pleasure.

Snape adds a second finger, stretching you carefully and kissing you the entire time, then a third. You are hot all over. Sweat clings to you like a second layer of skin. You are shivering from unfulfilled need and the steadily building pressure deep in your cunt just outside of Snape’s reach.

It builds and builds, beyond anything you were ever able to do to yourself and you have no idea how it keeps building and where all this pressure goes because the thought of it all staying confined in you is absurd!

You whine at the loss of his touch and buck your hips in a futile attempt of stopping his fingers from leaving you. Snape looks very fucking smug, but you are to wound up and needy to even care.

He watches you squirm, your slickness dripping off his fingers. He traces your lips with his ring finger, spreading your own arousal over them. You are too far gone to really care. Your tongue darts out and licks your lips clean, accepting his finger into your mouth. You suck his fingers clean, one after another, Snape’s dark eyes never leaving you.

“What a good girl.” He coos. His voice rolls over your skin and sinks into your body, causing your insides to clench.

You watch Snape undo the rest of the buttons and toss the black frock away. He opens his belt, the quiet clink of the buckle echoes in your mind. You’re about to see Snape’s prick. Snape just fingered you. You’ve been kissing Snape!

Your heart beats faster, like a hummingbird forced to forever fly on the spot in a too small cage. Anticipation takes your breath away and impossibly so, more slickness rushes to your entrance. Every second he takes to open his trousers feels like another fire being lit on your skin.

He slides a hand in his pants and now you are sure he is doing it to see you squirm because who moves that slow?

You let out an impatient whine and squirm, bucking your hips to grind against him.

“So impatient.” He chuckles and finally, finally frees his prick.

It’s big is a pretty accurate description, you don't know what Snape has against your eloquence. Jesus fuck, is another option but you doubt Snape would find that more eloquent.

His plush, purple cockhead is already leaking pre-cum. Snape mutters an incantation, you recognise as a contraception spell, before aligning himself with you.

“Don’t worry, dear.” He coos. “I’ll be gentle. Just relax.” You try. You really try, but Snape has your nerve endings running in circles, screaming, while on fire. Stop, drop and roll is not an option that they can think of, mainly because thinking is quite difficult when on fire.

He pushes against you, and you tense further. Snape rubs your thigh, and you take a deep breath and try to relax your muscles. Slowly, inch after thick inch Snape enters you. Beads of sweat collect on his forehead from the strain of going slow. Inch after inch of your tight channel is mercilessly forced to yield to his girth, stretching you open with a small sting.

Snape grunts and sinks into you to the hilt, sacking above you to give you time to adjust and also catch his breath.

You are so bloody full. How he isn’t ripping you open is a miracle to you. Your knuckles are white from holding onto his arms. The muscles in your thighs quiver. You give tentatively rolls of your hips, earning a low groan from Snape another wave of deep pleasure.

“You’re breathing really hard.” He mutters into your ear. “I like that - keep working so hard for me, dear.” Snape’s thrusts are long and controlled, massaging your inner walls and hitting just the right spots. You are reduced to a pathetic, needy moaning puddle of bliss and want.

Snape isn’t doing too much better. His breathing is heavy and loud right next to your ear which drives you deeper and deeper into your trance-like state of ecstatic bliss. His rhythm falters more than once and his groans take on an animalistic edge.

“So tight.” He grunts and drives back into you. “Just for me-”

“Snape!”

“That’s right. Saved yourself for me, didn’t you, dear?”

“Idiot.” You laugh against his jaw.

“No need to play shy - you can tell me.” Snape smirks and leans his forehead against yours. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” He snaps his hips forward, hitting that spot with more force than before and your breath gets stuck in your throat. You tense and convulse, somehow simultaneously. Snape grunts when you clench around him and your inner walls spasm.

“Keep coming- keep fucking coming for me!” He reaches between your bodies and rubs your clit. A violent wave of pleasure smacks you right in the face and you scream in pleasure. Snape whispers reverent praise and fucks you through your release, coming shortly after with a long groan inside you.

Sweaty, sticky and spent you collapse on the bed, both trying to catch your breath. Snape runs his hand over your thigh absentmindedly. His cum slowly leaks out of you. Your eyelids are heavy. A heavy blanket of bliss and contentment settles over you.

“Thank you.” You whisper into the silence of your flat.

“Whatever for?” He chuckles next to you.

“It was nice.” You shrug.

“Well, I should be thanking you for even letting me touch you.”

“Let’s thank each other.”

“Fine.” You stay there a while longer, but eventually Snape disentangles himself from you and gets up to get dressed.

Lying on your side with your sheets pulled up to cover your still shaking body you watch him.

“You know-” He says but stops himself, a frown appearing on his face. “A career isn’t the only thing to measure how accomplished or fulfilled one’s life is. Your friends might think their jobs are great now, but in ten, twenty years they’ll realise they have never lived a day in their life. This job…” He looks around the flat. “It seems pretty comfortable to me. It seems to give you the freedom to do whatever you want. Create art or music, write, research or go to university. You can do whatever you want - fuck what other people think. Not everybody dreams of labour.”

“What if I’m not good enough?” Snape fastens his cloak. He looks up. His eyes seem heavy with a burden you can’t quite understand. The corner of his mouth twitches and perhaps for the first time in the years you have known him you see him smile.

“I think you can achieve anything you put your mind to. And either way. How will you know if you never try? The day will come you’ll regret having allowed your fear to hold you back.” His cloak billows behind him when he turns to leave. His hand already on the doorknob he stops.

“I hope you find happiness.”

“I hope you find happiness too, Professor.”

“For some of us it’s too late.” And with those words he disappears into the darkness of the night.

Three weeks later Albus Dumbledore is murdered by Severus Snape.

| Part 2 |

#snape x reader #snape x you #snape x y/n #severus snape smut #snapedom #pro snape #dividers by cafekitsune

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lots-of-pockets · 6 months

Text

Taken

Chapter: 1

Words: 3077

Warnings: kidnapping, dark Natasha, diapers and a brief mention of throwing up. Let know if I need to add anymore!

Summary: Deep deep down, Natasha knew this was wrong. Taking someone against their own free will was borderline psychotic, let alone very much illegal. But she couldn't help it. After months upon months of watching your every move, she'd become convinced that you were only person perfect enough to become her daughter. She would do whatever it takes to have you, no matter the consequence.

Natasha stares into the fire. It crackles and glows with a radiant gold flame, the smell of burning wood filling her senses. In her hand was a glass of her favourite red wine, the rich liquid velvety on her tongue.

The outside was piercing in contrast to the heat before her. The empty skies were a dull white, and freshly fallen snow was covering all the eye could see. Everything was quiet, muffled, the atmosphere holding a sense of serenity the summer months did not have. It was peaceful and calming, a cherished few moments Natasha allows herself to have in the evenings after a hot bath full of bubbles and her favourite music.

The dancing flames of the fire could be seen in Natasha's eyes as she finishes her wine, setting the class down onto the coffee table with a soft, barely audible thump. She sits back against the couch and tightens the grey, fluffy blanket around her shoulders, eyes drifting to the clock in the corner of the room.

11:35

It was nearly time.

The busy street was quietened by a large blanket of snow, a carpet of cotton batting falling everywhere you looked. As you walk your usual journey to work, it crunches loudly beneath your feet. Your fingers and toes feel numb and are beginning to ache, and you could see the misty fog escaping your lips with each exhale. The trees were rocking back and forth, creaking and groaning just like the sound of an old rocking chair.

One positive about rising this early in the morning was being able to hear the birds on the street. They fill your ears with soft chirps, and you find it almost impossible not to smile at the sound.

Behind you, you hear the sound of a vehicle approaching. Your senses were almost immediately on red alert. The road you were on was almost always deserted. It was narrow and only one way, and you knew there was no reason for anyone to be coming this way this early, especially in a car when the snow plow hadn't even been through.

Your breathing accelerates, and you feel yourself begin to sweat despite the freezing temperature. You try your best not to outwardly react and continue on your way, but the car behind you slows the closer it gets, and you feel yourself become almost paralysed with fear.

You close your eyes for a second and practically force a deep breath into your lungs. You then speed up your pace, knowing that even if the person in the car means no harm, it was better to be safe than sorry.

When you hear the car door open and shut, the fear becomes a tangible, living force that creeps over you like some hungry beast, and it immobilises you, raising the fine hairs on the back of your neck. Your legs pick up on their own accord, but it was no use.

Someone grabs you, and the scream of pure terror that escapes your lips was muffled by a large, cold hand. You flail your body; you kick, you scratch, but your attacker was stronger, larger, and it was evident you stood no chance.

The hand was soon replaced by a cloth, and your senses almost immediately become a blur. Your eyes become heavy, your body becomes a deadweight, and despite the last ditch effort to escape, everything fades into nothing.

When you come to, your disoriented brain takes a few moments to catch up with the events that had just concurred.

You notice you were no longer outside. You were on a bed, and the mattress beneath you was soft and comfortable. The jeans and coat you had on were no longer, replaced by a pair of pyjamas much like a toddler would wear.

Your eyes flicker almost subconsciously around the room. The only light came from a slit between the curtains at the window, the feeble brightness barely enough for you to make out anything.

You did, however, note that the room was of medium size, adorned with white furniture. You couldn't make out any sort of decorations, but the door held a single lock with a touch screen pad.

You stare at it for a moment, and something in your brain seems to click bringing your subconscious to the realisation of what had happened. You'd been kidnapped, someone had taken you.

An immediate feeling of dread creeps up from the pit of your stomach, and your pulse beats in your ears blocking out all other sound.

You could feel your fight or flight responses kick in, increasing your heart rate and flooding you with added adrenaline. You try to sit up, but something was pinning your wrists down. It tugs at your skin uncomfortably, and when you look up, you see that you'd been handcuffed, each metal circle attached to the wooden headboard of the bed.

At the sight, your fear only grows more. You try to scream, but when you open your mouth, you come to find that even words had deserted you. It leaves you to release a choked sob, and you feel hot wet fluid begin to dribble down your legs, a bastion of warm comfort in a moment of primal terror.

The door opposite beeps in warning before it opens, and you feel your stomach grip in protest as a women comes into view. She was tall, and her pose screamed power. Her broad shoulders were held high, but her eyes, a soft green in colour, were gentle, and full of warmth.

The stark difference would have confused you if it wasn't for the sense of overwhelming dread.

"Hi little one. I'm glad to see you're finally awake," The woman speaks in greeting as she locks the door behind her, "I was beginning to grow a little worried." She adds as she flickers on the small night light that was plugged in near the bed before easing herself down next to you.

It bathes the room in a soft glow finally allowing you to finally take in your surroundings.

You couldn't help but tremble in complete and utter terror as your eyes burn with the familiar sensation of tears.

"It's okay," the woman soothes in a soft coo as she reaches for something to your left. "I know you must be scared, and I'm sorry about that." Her hand returns into view holding a tissue, and you flinch almost violently as the woman makes gentle work of drying your cheeks.

She doesn't outwardly react to it, but her features soften and her touch gentles further. You still shift uncomfortably, and it prompts the woman's eyes to flicker down towards the lower half of your body.

When they take in the large wet spot beneath you, your skin prickles with the fear of the unknown. But the woman simply shakes her head, a playful, yet gentle glint in her eyes.

"We'll fix that," was all she says as she disposes of the soiled tissue, grabbing a small bottle of hand sanitizer from seemingly nowhere and squeezing a small amount out onto her hands, "my names Natasha, but you may only call me mama. I'm going to be looking after you from now on."

You simply stare, trying to mask your emotions and pretend like you weren't mere seconds away from emptying your stomach in complete disgust.

"And you're Y/n, right?" Natasha continues, staring at you with a look that tells you she was expecting an answer.

You manage a mere nod, not wanting to upset the woman by defying her. Right now, you had no idea what Natasha was capable of, and you didn't want to provoke her in any kind of way by disobeying.

Natasha smiles in satisfaction as she rises from the bed and heads over to the white dresser placed in the corner of the room, "You were out for a while, so I suspect you must be pretty hungry. I have dinner made, and you may have it once we have you nice and clean." When she turns, you see she was holding a familiar rectangle of padded cotton.

Your cheeks burn, but you soon come to the daunting realisation that the woman must have already seen you naked due to the unfamiliar pair of pyjamas you were currently adorned in.

The bile in your throat worsens when you realise that Natasha could have done absolutely anything to you, and you feel yourself begin to gag in both fear and absolute dread.

Your vision becomes blurry, and as you try your best to keep your last meal down, you distinctly feel one of your hands become free if it's confines. Your body was then turned sideways just in time for you to vomit up absolutely everything in your stomach.

"There there, I've got you. You're okay." A muffled voice fills your ears as a hand gently grazes up and down your back, and having those hands on you only furthers your disgust and you find yourself puking once again.

You want to tell Natasha to get the hell off of you. That how dare she touch you after what she'd done, but there were no more words left in you. You could barely find it in within you to remain conscious, and you deem that more important right now. You had to stay awake. You had to try and protect yourself.

"Are you done?" The voice questions, and you nod ever so slightly. You feel a soft hand grasp your own and raise it once again to rest above your head, the cold cuffs once again circling your wrist.

Through your blurry vision, you see Natasha leave the room, and you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes and get yourself together.

When the women returns, you note she was wearing different clothes. You internally smile in victory when you realise you must have puked on her.

Serves her right.

"Okay, let's get you changed." Natasha sits herself down at the end of the bed, and it was only then do you notice that your feet were tied up too.

"I'm going to untie your feet, but if you even so think about kicking me or harming my furniture, I'm going to leave you in your wet clothes for the rest of the night, do you understand?" Natasha's hand rests on the rope tied securely around your ankle, and though the eyes staring at you were still the same soft ones as before, this time, they held a look of warning.

A warning you did not want to test. Not right now when you were still in such a vulnerable position where this woman could so absolutely anything to you and you'd be powerless to stop it.

And so you nod, despite everything in you telling you to fight with all you could.

Your heart races as Natasha unties your feet, legs subconsciously moving of their own accord and rising to a bent position where your thighs were pressed against your stomach.

The woman allows this, and when her hands reach for the waistband of your pyjama pants, your fight or flight instincts break.

You begin to flail your body as much as you could, the woman's prior warnings dissipating into the back of your mind. You had to get out. You couldn't let Natasha do this to you.

Despite your attempts, the woman gets your pants off anyway.

"No!" You finally find your voice, and it comes out hoarse, trembling with fear, "no! Let me go. Let me go!" You cry out as your stomach heaves with sobs.

"Hush now," the woman lightly scolds as she successfully manages to slide the diaper beneath your squirming figure, "There is no need for you to get so upset. I am not hurting you, so I suggest you calm down before I keep my promise and put you right back into your wet pants."

You still at the threat, but you continue to sob. Tears flow down your cheeks, blurring your vision and soaking your hair. Gut-wrenching sobs that tear through your chest fill the otherwise quiet room, and you want nothing more than for all of this to just stop.

You want to go home. You want to be curled up on the couch with your mom watching your favourite movie.

Not here. Not here where you're being emotionally tormented with all the things you no longer have; where you no longer have your independence and would be subjected to the unknown.

"There, all done." You hear, and you once again feel your legs being secured into their former positions. The sheet beneath you was pulled off next, replaced by a dry one with quick and efficient ease despite your presence on the mattress.

Natasha then shifts up the bed slightly, her weight tipping the mattress as her hand comes up to cup your cheek and wipe away the tears.

You flinch, but allow it to happen. The woman obviously knows what she wants, and it was becoming evident nothing you did would stop her.

"No more tears now," another soft coo as a gentle thumb continues to trail over your skin, "you're okay little one. Deep breaths."

You shake your head, "I want...I want to...go home. Please...let me...go home!" You cry as you extraneously squirm to get out of your confines.

Through your blurred vision, you see Natasha shake her head, and your body was wracked with another onslaught of sobs, complete hopelessness converted into tears that pour down your face at lightning speed.

"I know that must be upsetting for you to hear, but you'll get used to it. I'm going to get your dinner. I expect you to be fully calm by time I get back." Natasha once again wipes off your cheeks, the material of the tissue rough against your skin.

You try your best to comply with the woman's wishes, your throat tightening in dismay when you force back the sob that so desperately wants to escape.

Natasha smiles as she gives your leg a soft pat before rising to her feet, "Good girl."

You say nothing, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. She disappears from the room and returns a short while later carrying a tray that held a glass full of water and a bowl of what appears to be soup.

"You haven't earned the right to feed yourself just yet, so I'm going to do it for you." The woman explains as she sets the tray down onto the nightstand, picking up the bowl along with a plastic spoon.

Soon, said spoon was being held to your mouth, the plastic warm against your lips.

You stare at the woman for only a short moment before reluctantly allowing your lips to part, and Natasha smiles as she places the spoon into your mouth. It was soup, but due to your blocked nose, you couldn't tell which kind it was.

You don't particularly care however, because you weren't in the slightest bit hungry after throwing your guts up just a few moments ago.

"Good girl. Is that yummy?" Natasha coos as she refills the spoon and once again holds it to your lips.

It wasn't, but you nod anyway as you open your mouth and allow yourself to be fed. You were scared if you told the woman any different, you'd be punished and tied up for longer. If you couldn't get away from Natasha, you at least wanted out of these stupid cuffs.

Natasha smiles happily, "I'm glad. Mama worked hard and there's lots more if you're still hungry."

Your stomach churns in disgust at the woman calling herself that, but you nod along, fear constricting you from acting upon your thoughts.

Soon, the bowl was empty, and you watch as Natasha sets it down and picks up the glass of water. You go rigid when Natasha places her hand on the back of your neck to elevate your head, hating the feeling of her touching you.

"Drink." Natasha prompts, and you quickly down over half of the water in the glass.

The woman sets the glass back next to the bowl and reaches for the blanket that was folded and placed over the footboard of the bed, "It's late. Time for bed." She shakes it out and lays it over your body.

"There's a baby monitor placed on the shelf up there, and it can see and hear you. If you need anything, I want you to call for me. I can't help you if I don't know anything is wrong." She brushes the hair saturated with tears out of your face before tucking it behind your ear.

You force yourself to nod.

Natasha smiles and gives your cheek one last gentle touch before rising to her feet, picking up the tray before heading towards the door, "Goodnight little one." She calls softly before leaving the room.

You don't reply.

Sleep does not come easy.

Fear prickles at the base of your spine each time you feels yourself beginning to drift off, a terrible sense of anxiety creeping over you at every little sound you hear.

The light thud of footsteps, the branches of the trees outside hitting the glass windows. Even the sounds of the house settling were unnerving, and no matter what you did, the subconscious of dreamland just didn't want to come.

A part of you wonders if anyone had realised you were missing. You keep to yourself mostly. Didn't have many friends or acquaintances. The only person you did have was your mom, and it had been nearly six months since the effort had been made for a visit. You decide that no, no one would have noticed, and because of your tendency to stay locked up in your apartment for weeks on end, no one would for a while leaving you to Natasha's mercy.

A part of you wants to call out for her. You want to beg her to be un-cuffed so you could at least try and get comfortable. But fear prevents you from doing so. It prevents you from even opening her mouth, so all you could do was lay here until morning comes.

A brand new day would greet you, and your nightmare would continue.

Your thoughts would be appreciated! ♥️

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #marvel agere #age regression #natasha romanoff x little!reader #tw kidnapping #stockhom syndrome #mommy natasha romanoff #dark natasha romanoff #natasha x y/n #black widow #marvel #fluff

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cyberslvts · 9 months

Text

FORGIVE ME NOT || w.maximoff

Summary: As your relationship with Wanda progresses, things take a turn when you uncover the secret shes been struggling to keep from you.

WC: 5.6k

Warnings: angst, arguing , hints to smut, cunty wanda (my fav),

Read part 1 here!

Partnering up with Wanda had turned out to be a whirlwind of intensity. From the moment the decision was made to merge your engineering companies, the dynamics of your work life underwent a significant shift.

The initial days were marked by long hours of brainstorming, heated debates, and passionate discussions. You found yourselves challenging each other's viewpoints, pushing the boundaries of what you believed was possible, and refining your ideas until they were razor-sharp. Wanda's ability to think outside the box and approach problems from unconventional angles injected fresh energy into your projects.

What surprised you the most was the undeniable chemistry between the two of you. Despite your competitive history, your partnership unfolded with a sense of balance and harmony. Wanda's passion was infectious, igniting your own drive to achieve greatness. The moments of friction were offset by her unwavering determination and the genuine respect she showed for your skills

As for the other side of your relationship with Wanda, the two of you continued your secret hookups, during the late hours of the night when everyone had gone home, the only sounds that were to be heard in the building were moans and gasps of pleasure emitting from your office nestled on the uppermost floor.

This went on for a while. On certain evenings you showed up at her apartment after a grueling day of work looking to release stress. On other days wanda would simply barge into your office and take you right there on the desk, most of the time happening after her more frustrating phone calls.

The both of you brushing these encounters off as a way to relieve the stress from your highly demanding jobs. It became routine for the two of you. Once Wanda had wrapped up her work for the night she would make her way across the street to your office building, the glow of your still-lit workspace visible from the street below. timing it just as you signed off, she'd join you, and then the two of you would make your way to her place, On Occasion picking up takeout from that bistro on 42nd street if the mood struck you two. Arriving at her apartment, the memories would blur into a haze of red hair and fiery hands all over your body, the outside world fading away.

Once done with your rendezvous for the night you would slip out into the darkened city, with a wrinkled shirt and purple marks painted down your neck, only to repeat the same thing the very next day.

Soon the Nature of your relationship changed into something beyond physical desire.

Post-sex, you found yourself yearning for more than just a fleeting encounter. a desire to remain close to her in the aftermath of your passionate moments. It was you who took the initiative, reaching out for a deeper connection.

Wordlessly, your arm would drape over her waist, and you'd nuzzle your face into the comforting haven of her chest. This act of tenderness caught Wanda by surprise at first, yet she soon melted into the embrace, finding solace and warmth in your arms. The nights became more intimate, the two of you would stay up late in each other's arms sharing your secrets and fears, and dreams for the future. The dynamic between you and wanda changing into something more gentle and domestic.

Wanda was usually the first to fall asleep after the two of you had finished your activities for the night. Wrapping an arm around your waist and Snuggling her face into the warmth of your neck became a familiar routine for Wanda. Some nights, when sleep had yet to take over you, and the world was at rest, you spent your time observing the features of her face, being able to see her up close in such a relaxed and personal state was a privilege you were grateful to have.

During those nights. you took the opportunity to express the feelings you were too afraid to share when she was awake. With whispers of love and vulnerability, you spoke into the softness of her hair, letting your emotions flow freely in the silent embrace.

In your relationship with Wanda, she was often the one to express affection and openness, while you tended to be more reserved and hesitant. Love and relationships were something you weren't familiar with, which left you feeling intimidated and afraid of these feelings you had for Wanda. However, her endless patience and kindness were always there to remind you that there was no need to be hurried when Your presence alone would always be enough for her.

Some nights you didn't have sex at all. Wanda would whisk you away for a different kind of experience. She'd lead you to a charming dinner spot. The city lights would dance around you as you engaged in conversations that ranged from work to dreams, And although the night might not end in the same heated passion, the bond between you two only seemed to deepen with each moment spent in her presence.

After more stressful and exhausting days at the office, Instead of ripping each other clothes off the moment the door shut behind you two, you would take the time to unwind with each other. Having a glass of wine on the couch with your feet in Wanda's lap, her fingers tracing patterns into your skin as you listened to her tales about her work day. Together, you'd venture to the kitchen. Wanda's arms would wrap themselves around your waist, her chin on your shoulder watching your hands as they danced around the pots and pans.

Wanda was determined to create an environment where you felt truly at home. Wanting to provide you with a space where you felt comfortable and at ease. She stocked her bathroom with copies of your skincare products, she kept her fridge full of the food you liked and ridding the ones you didn't, and cleared out the nightstand on the left side of her bed so you could fill it with your items. subtle but meaningful gestures that made your heart swell.

It was unspoken. You and Wanda's devotion and loyalty to each other was something that didn't need affirmation. What you and Wanda felt for each other was something that didn't need to be addressed, or announced, Or shouted from the rooftops. It was just there. It was something intimate and private, an inevitable bond that simply was. It belonged solely to the two of you, existing in the moments you shared in your apartment or in Wanda's office during the late hours of the night. There was no need to flaunt it or make it known to the world; it was a precious and personal connection that only the two of you understood and cherished.

—---------

The plan was perfect. Every detail and calculation was refined to perfection.

When Tony Stark approached Wanda on that misty September morning she knew her fate was already sealed.

"Think about it, Wanda. You can't withstand her for much longer," Tony's gaze bore into Wanda's, unwavering. "Her upcoming A.I. release next month will overwhelm your sales. Before you realize it, you'll be plummeting down the rankings."

Wanda listened, her thoughts racing as Tony's words sank in. She had always been fiercely competitive, determined to maintain her position at the top. But the reality of the situation was starting to dawn on her. Her rivalry with you had reached a critical juncture, and the consequences of losing seemed more dire than ever. As Tony continued to lay out his proposal, Wanda found herself grappling with a difficult decision, torn between her ambition and the mounting pressure of the business world.

“So you want me to Seduce y/n into a partnership and pursue a relationship with her so that we can secretly steal information from her company?” Wanda raised her eyebrows in disbelief at Tony's ridiculous plan.

“Precisely!” He smiled, smugly leaning back into the chair with one leg crossed over the other

“And once we have all the information we need the two of us will take her down and well secure our spot as the top engineering company in America” Tony finished, Proudly

Wanda narrowed her eyes at the man sitting across from her, adjusting herself so one elbow was placed on the arm of her chair. “And how do you expect this plan to work?”

“Because I did the same thing to Bruce Banner.”

Wanda's jaw clenched as she recalled the events from the previous year. Tony had cunningly sent in one of his assistants, an unfamiliar face to everyone. They had met a few times, She was captivating, intelligent, and calculating much like Wanda herself. she had seamlessly integrated herself into Bruce's inner circle. For a time, Bruce's company thrived under her influence. However, that facade shattered when Tony unveiled a new invention that seemed to have drawn direct inspiration from ideas and innovations that originally belonged to Bruce.

Over the course of the year, Bruce's company suffered a devastating decline.A company that had once held such promise was now struggling, all because of Tony Stark. It was cruel and vicious and completely Unfair.

But it was also successful, after that incident Tony was able to rise tremendoulsy throught the ranks, his buisness flourished. He was brining in triple the amound of money he had before and was becoming an A-level threat in the industry.

Wanda sucked on the inside of her cheek, considering the weight of his plan. A rush of excitement built up within her at the idea of this succeeding

“Your the only line we have to y/n, Wanda” Tony persisted, his voice laced with persuasion.

Wanda knew this was a complete violation of her basic morals. She knew this was a sick and twisted act that you would never forgive her for.

Yet, the tantalizing prospect of emerging victorious, finally ending the prolonged feud, and toppling you for good. Well. The offer was just too enticing to ignore.

Thus, a plan was crafted, woven from a web of secrecy and deceit. Wanda found herself entangled in a sinister dance with Tony Stark, each step taken dragging her deeper into the abyss of betrayal. Late-night meetings in dimly lit corners became the norm, their hushed conversations shrouded in the darkness of their shared ambition

As the months rolled on, the plan took shape like an intricate puzzle. Wanda's role was to discreetly gather crucial information about your company's groundbreaking AI technology and innovative designs. Her position provided her access to your most guarded secrets, allowing her to siphon off precious data bit by bit.

Everything was going accordingly. You were as unsuspecting as ever, completely unaware of the intricate web of deception that had been woven around you. Wanda played her part well, maintaining the facade of a loyal business partner while secretly funneling information to Tony Stark and Maximoff Industries. There was nothing stopping her. She could pratically see her success unfolding right before her eyes.

Everything was perfect.

Except there was one major miscalculation.

She had fallen in love with you.

she had fallen so deeply and irrevocably in love with you.

This was certainly not apart of the plan. Wanda didn't know when or how it happened. What was supposed to be a relationship built on a base of lies and betrayal in order to receive the upper hand, had evolved into something entirely different.

She had always sensed a intangible connection between the two fo you. Initially, she dismissed it as was pure chemical attraction and lust. Yet, as time passed she found herself becoming more drawn to you. It was like an unstoppable force, completely defying the boundaries of her carefully constructed plan.

She tried to push aside these feelings, to remind herself that this was all a means to an end. But the more she resisted, the stronger her emotions grew. It was in the way you looked at her, with tenderness and understanding. It was in the moments of vulnerability you shared, the quiet conversations that revealed the depths of your souls.

Wanda was surprised by the change in her emotions, and she struggled to comprehend how the lines between rivals and something more had blurred so effortlessly. The more time she spent with you, the more she uncovered the layers of your personality, and she found herself captivated by the person you were beneath the surface

Your profound gentleness was something that took her by surprise. You had gotten a bad rap in the industry, being painted as a heartless, ruthless competitor. Yet, the more time Wanda spent with you, the more she realized that those portrayals couldn't be further from the truth.

In moments of vulnerability, you were a steady anchor for her, providing the support and understanding she needed. Nights when work became too much for Wanda and everything felt like an overwhelming mess. You were there. Holding her head against the warmth of your chest as she poured out her fears, frustrations, and worries. The way you looked at her with such patience and tenderness created an indescribable feeling of belonging inside of her. There was no judgment or impatience in your gaze, only genuine concern and a willingness to be there for her.

She grew to find peace in your quietness, the simplicity of being able to just sit in the same room together in silence, without a need for words. Was something Wanda cherished, the intimacy and connection that she built with you was something she didn't know she had been craving for all these years.

Wanda's love for you felt overwhelming at times. Throughout the day, she often found herself entranced by the simplest of moments – watching you do mundane tasks like putting on makeup or answering emails. To her, you were a living work of art, and she couldn't help but wonder how a person could be so perfect

In your presence, Wanda felt like the luckiest person in the world. Your beauty, intelligence, grace, and talent left her in awe, and she felt incredibly privileged to be a part of your life. The way you carried yourself with confidence and poise, the way your laughter filled the room with warmth, and the way you effortlessly excelled in everything you put your mind to – it was all a marvel to her.

So how could she possibly tell you about the unforgivable acts she had committed over the past seven months? The betrayal gnawed at her heart, making it almost impossible to face you. The mere thought of losing you created a overwhelming sense of panic and dread inside her. Wanda knew that if you were to ever find out what she has been doing you'd be gone in an instant. This thought alone was enough to keep her from confessing the truth.

—---------------

Wanda's hands were hot on your waist, your feet stumbling behind you in an attempt to keep from falling backward. You felt yourself being propelled into her office, the door slamming shut with a swift kick from her foot. In one fluid motion, she spun you around, and your back made forceful contact with the hardwood material of her office door.

She brought her lips back to yours, reconnecting you into a bruising kiss. Your hands wrapped around her neck until they tangled themselves in her hair, pulling her face closer to yours. She moaned into your mouth, moving her hips until they were pressed right against yours, trapping you between her and the door.

Both of you being more desperate than usual after being trapped in endless meetings all week, barely having enough time to exchange pleasantries with each other.

“I missed you so much” she sighed against your lips, beginning to lose herself in the heated kiss, Wanda's hand moved to firmly squeeze the flesh of your ass, eliciting a gasp from you, which she took advantage of to slip her tongue into your mouth. Her lips then trailed down to your jaw, leaving wet kisses all the way down to your neck.

Her hands and lips were all over you, sending jolts of warmth straight to that spot in between your thighs. When she forced your thighs apart with her leg, her knee coming into straight contact with your pussy, you had to force yourself to pull away. Knowing where this exchange was headed,

“No, Wanda, not here," you protested, though her lips continued their journey, making it difficult for you to resist. When she pressed her lips against that spot behind your ear you had to exert self-control and gently push her away. "Someone will see," you tried to reason with her.

Wanda hummed, clearly not paying attention to anything that you were saying. “and plus, you have a meeting in” you glazed at your wrist watch “8 minutes!”

“Perfect, that's plenty of time” she smirked, clearly not concerned about the time constraints

“Wanda, I'm serious” you firmly spoke. Wanting to avoid any potential consequences.

“Okay okay” she finally relented stepping back in defeat, and you felt a sudden chill, immediately missing the warmth of her body “God, I'm so sick of all these board meetings” she grumbled in frustration.

“I know, it's been overwhelming lately” you responded with the same frustration as her, these past few weeks have been hell, leading up to the release of you and Wanda's newest project. the two of you spending almost every hour of the day locked in conference rooms with endless waves of snobby investors, reviewing contracts, and going over every last detail of the project. The pressure was immense, but the two of you were determined to make it a success. Long days turned into even longer nights, and exhaustion began to take its toll.

"I can't even remember the last time we had a proper date," you added with a hint of exhaustion in your voice, knowing that Wanda could relate. "But at least this is your last one for today. Who did you say it was with again?"

"No one important," she responded rather quickly, trying to downplay the significance of the meeting. But you could tell there was something more to it from the way she avoided making eye contact.

"Come on, Wanda, don't shut me out," you gently encouraged, reaching out to tilt her chin up so that she had to meet your gaze. "If it's bothering you, I want to know."

Wanda sighed, her guard slowly crumbling under your caring gaze. "It's just another potential investor," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "They've been hounding me for weeks, and I finally agreed to meet them today. But honestly, I don't have a good feeling about it."

You squeezed her hand reassuringly, understanding the pressure she was under. "you're an incredible businesswoman, and our company is doing amazing things. If this investor can't see that, it's their loss," you said, offering her a small smile

Wanda's lips curled up slightly. "You always know how to make me feel better," she said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Come by my apartment later?” her hands returned to your waist, softer this time “I want to see you.”

"I'll be there before you get home from work" you confirmed, caressing her cheek with your thumb. "I could use some time with you too."

Wanda's eyes glimmered with affection, and she leaned in to plant another tender kiss on your lips. "I can't wait," she whispered, her voice filled with eager anticipation. Reluctantly, you pulled away, playfully nudging her shoulder. "Okay, go. You can't be late."

“Yes ma’am” Wanda replied with a playful grin, giving your lips one last peck before quickly gathering her things and disappearing down the hallway.

—-------------------------

The night air was warm, and the streetlights cast a soft, golden hue on the sidewalk as you stepped out of your car, securing it with a click of the lock. Your gaze was drawn upwards to the towering black building that housed Wanda's apartment complex.

Amidst the sounds of speeding cars, the sidewalk remained sparsely populated, with only a few people making their way home from work. You strode into the building, warmly greeted by the opulence of the lobby—bright white lights and exquisite furnishings welcomed you. You exchanged a friendly smile with Liam, the receptionist, whom you had gotten to know quite well after numerous late nights spent sneaking out of Wanda's room, makeup slightly smudged with a pair of heels in your hand.

Once inside the elevator, you pressed the button for the top floor where Wanda's apartment awaited. Stepping out onto her floor, you walked down the dimly lit hall, reaching into your purse to retrieve the spare key she had given you.

Opening and closing the door with a click you were met with the darkness of Wanda's house. Placing your keys on the welcoming table next to the door you flicked on the lights to reveal the dark hardwood floors and pristine white countertops of Wanda's kitchen.

The air was scented with a hint of fresh flowers and the subtle fragrance of high-end perfumes,. You felt yourself relax into the familiar scent of Wanda. The apartment's interior boasted contemporary furnishings, luxurious fabrics, and tastefully arranged art pieces, creating a space that exuded both comfort and style. The night skyline, visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painted a mesmerizing scene as the city lights illuminated the room. The attached balcony provided a captivating view of the bustling city below while providing a comforting distance from its energetic pace.

You pulled at the collar of your shirt, the tight scratchiness of your work clothes made you cringe, quickly kicking off your heels you made a beeline to Wanda's room, heading straight for her closet. You shifted through her endless collection of expensive, pants, coats, blouses, and suits until you reached the drawer that housed her comfortable clothes.

Just as you were about to slip on a pair of her soft sweatpants, the loud sound of your phone ringing echoed throughout the empty apartment, startling you. Picking up your phone you were met with a notification from your reminders app

Send final draft to Natasha - due 12 pm

You groan at the thought of having to do any more work for the night, the idea of even opening your laptop made you want to cry. Deciding to just get it over with, You reached inside your purse, expecting to be met with the hard material of your laptop. instead, feeling the large emptiness of your purse. You sighed in frustration, you must have left it on your desk back at the office.

The exhaustion was taking its toll on you, and you knew you couldn't put off the task any longer. With a heavy heart, You made your way out of Wanda's room and down the hall to the doors of her home office. A wave of relief washed over you once you saw her laptop already hooked up to her two larger monitors. You had used Wanda's office a number of times, settling down into her large swivel chairs you moved around the mouse, the dark room being lit up by the bright light of the screen. The screen opened up to reveal the inbox of Wanda's emails. Realizing she must have forgotten to sign out you immediately moved your mouse to the corner of the screen heading for the switch accounts button, not wanting to invade her privacy.

However, your movements stopped when you noticed an email Chain between Wanda and Tony Stark. You paused. Why was she emailing Tony, one of your top competitors? You know you shouldn't have. You should have respected her privacy and clicked off. But curiosity got the best of you and you clicked on the most recent email.

Wanda,

It's been weeks now and you haven't given us any new information regarding Y/n L/ns newest designs, you were supposed to give us the blueprint to her A.I Robot last month. What is going on?

Tony Stark, Stark Industries

Sent today, 9:27 am

A cold sensation ran through your body, No. This wasn't what it looked like. Wanda would never do something like this. There had to be some sort of explanation for this. Your hands trembled as you scrolled through the email chain, desperately seeking some clarification or context that could explain why Wanda had shared your company's confidential information with Tony Stark. The more you read, the more your suspicions about wanda were confirmed.

The emails were filled with discussions about your latest projects, strategies, and even your upcoming releases. It was clear that Wanda had been feeding Stark Industries information about your company, and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. The trust you had in her was shattered, and you couldn't fathom why she would betray you in such a way.

As you continued to read, you noticed that there were times when Tony had pushed for even more sensitive information, and Wanda seemed hesitant and conflicted in her responses. It appeared as though she had some reservations about what she was doing, but she still continued the exchanges.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you read the emails, feeling like the ground beneath you was crumbling away. Wanda had been sharing your company's confidential information with Tony Stark, your biggest competitor. she had betrayed your trust and jeopardized everything you had worked so hard for.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, hurt, confusion, and sadness. You knew you needed to confront Wanda about this.

—------

Wanda's back throbbed with exhaustion, and her eyelids struggled to remain lifted as she wearily navigated down the hallway toward her penthouse. The meeting with potential investors had stretched far beyond her expectations, leaving her drained beyond her belief. She lazily fumbled with her keys and eagerly swung open the door ready to drop everything and crawl into bed with you.

Wanda nearly dropped her bag in shock when she flicked on the lights to reveal your figure seated in her kitchen, your limbs crossed, wearing an unreadable expression on your face.

“Jesus, y/n. You nearly gave me a heart attack” She sighed in relief, her hand dropping from its previous place on her chest. Her bag found its place on the floor, and she balanced on one foot, steadying herself on the wall as she undid the straps of her heels.“What are you doing still up? I thought you'd be asleep”

“Couldn't sleep,” your monotone reply cut through the air, your gaze drilling into Wanda's form.

Once she got her shoes off she moved closer to you ready to find out whatever was bothering you, but her movements faltered when she noticed a sea of spread-out papers covering her kitchen island, When she moved in closer to inspect them her face went pale.

There in front of her were dozens of printed-out copies of emails and documents between her and Tony. Stone cold undeniable evidence.

“Y/n. I can explain” Wanda's voice wavered, her gaze lifting from the incriminating evidence to meet your eyes,

"Explain?" you retorted, a mix of disbelief and anger coloring your tone. "How do you even begin to explain going behind my back for months, taking our confidential information, and then willingly giving it to our main competitor?

"It was never meant to go this far," Wanda pleaded, desperation lacing her voice. She knew this was bad. Nothing about this situation was justifiable. She had completely shattered your trust and violated the sanctity of your company.

"It's over. I stopped sending him information weeks ago," she continued, her voice quivering with remorse.

You stood up from your seat, putting distance between the two of you as you paced around the kitchen island. The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air.

"Like that's supposed to make me feel better," you retorted. You began to pick up the scattered papers, each one a painful reminder of the breach of trust

Your heart ached as you revisited the documents. You had spent countless hours, pouring your soul into those blueprints and designs. They were a connection to your father, a legacy you held dear

"All of my work," you muttered, flipping through the papers with a mix of disbelief and anguish. Memories of the nights you had dedicated to perfecting your craft flooded your mind. Your father's legacy, his hard work and dedication, all of it felt tarnished by this revelation.

“My blueprints, my designs…My Father's designs!” you practically growled, slamming the documents onto the table. The sound echoed throughout the room. Your eyes welled with hot tears that threatened to spill out at any moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to figure out how she could have done this. Wanda. Your wanda. Your sweet, gentle Wanda who would never have even dreamed of hurting you, could do something so cruel.

“Y/n, im sorry. Im so sorry” Wanda's voice cracked, her own eyes brimming with tears as she met your gaze.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing emotions. "Sorry? Sorry doesn't even begin to cover it, Wanda," you said, your voice a mixture of hurt and anger. "You've not only betrayed me, but you've tarnished my father's legacy. How could you do this to me?"

Wanda's shoulders slumped, the weight of her actions bearing down on her. "I never meant for any of this to happen," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I never thought it would spiral out of control like this.”

"You thought you could just play both sides and not face the consequences?" you shot back, your frustration boiling over. "And with Tony Stark of all people? Do you realize what you've done?"

Wanda reached out tentatively, her hand hovering in the air before she let it drop to her side. "I know I messed up, y/n. I know I hurt you” she said, her voice heavy with remorse.

"I-I wasnt thinking" she stuttered, her panic beginning to skin into her words. "And I let my own desperation cloud my judgment."

"You've completely shattered the trust I had in you," you said moving your face to the side away from Wandas. "I can't even look at you right now"

Wanda's tears finally spilled over, her hands shaking as she let out a choked sob. “Please y/n, I am so sorry” Wanda felt her heart begin to break. “I'll do whatever it takes to make this right. I swear to you”

As you looked at her, your anger began to fade, replaced by a profound sense of sorrow and loss. The weight of the situation bore down on you both, a heavy silence enveloping the room.

“Was it all a lie?” Your voice barely above a whisper, tiptoeing around the subject that had been an unspoken weight between you. The subject that neither of you had dared to address until this moment.

“No. Y/n, No” Wanda immediately responded, knowing exactly what you were referring to.

She swiftly closed the distance, her steps moved in sync around the kitchen island to stand before you. Her trembling hands reached out, an unspoken plea in her eyes as she gently took hold of your hands, her fingers brushing against yours.

“What I feel for you, the way you make me feel. It was never a lie.” The honesty and desperation poured into her words. Wanda's love for you was sacred to her. Something that grew to become a part of her. Something that she would never lie to you about.

“And how do you expect me to believe that.” you fired back at her.

Wanda felt a lump forming in her throat, struggling to find the words to bridge the gap between you. You were right, how could you believe her when the past 6 months had been nothing but a lie “Please. Y/n, Please”

“How long have you been doing this? When did it start?” you interrogated her, your demeanor completely shifting from hurt to anger “And I swear to god, don't you dare lie to me.”

Wanda's eyes dropped to the floor, the weight of her actions heavy on her shoulders. Her grip on your hand loosened, her fingers sliding back to her sides as if she felt unworthy of your touch. Her voice was a quiet murmur, laden with shame. “That first night in the conference room. Right after we had sex.”

Once you heard that piece of information it felt like something died inside you, all your fears and doubts being confirmed in an instant. Your expression went dark as you turned your head away from Wanda and began to collect your things.

“I'm going to contact my lawyer to work out a lawsuit against you and stark industries” you stated firmly. Not looking up from where you were pilling your belongings into your bag. “And after that, I never want to see you again.”

With your bag securely packed you turned to make your exit, brushing past Wanda, completely ignoring her gaze refusing to be swayed by any emotions that might try to cloud your judgment.

Wanda's eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. "Wait, y/n, please. Don't do this" she begged, reaching out to you, her hand trembling slightly as if trying to hold onto something slipping through her fingers.

“Please. I love you.” Wanda's words hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions wash over you.

You paused for a moment, screwing your eyes shut as your back remained face to Wanda.

The two of you have never said those words before. Mainly because there was no need. You both felt it. You both knew it was there. But hearing it out loud. now. under these circumstances, made it feel like someone was tearing your heart into two.

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, leaving Wanda behind in a silence so loud she felt it might consume her.

Taglist: @reginassweetheart @psychickryptonitebouquet @marvelwomen-simp @lesbianpizza @ilovetlcc @dracarys8287 @kittnii

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #fanfic #fluff

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romanticintheory · 6 days

Note

HI I JUST READ YOUR "SIMON BETRAY YOU" AND YOU KNOW WHATTTT IT HURTS SOO GOOD OMG THANKS FOR MAKING THATT SJWISHWBSHSJSBWJSBWBS

...

and.. maybe can you write for a part two? pleaseee🥺

HIII TYSM IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! here's a pt 2! i am very sick at the moment, though, so this might be a bunch of gibberish (i sincerely apologize if so). hope you like it <3

simon riley betrays you pt. 2

simon "ghost" riley x reader || pt. 1 || masterlist

☆ ☆ ☆

-miraculously, they let you go.

-you half expected someone to drag you out of the car with the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple with the intent to fire, but no. after a few excruciatingly long hours alone with your arms and legs bound, someone new came to cut your ties and let you loose.

-maybe they were just bad at their job, you thought. after all, why would they let you, essentially a witness, go free without any repercussions?

-a few years pass. you try to move on, but its impossible when your entire world was shattered in one night.

-you never heard back from your father since then, but that wasn't the thing that hurt the most. you couldn't go a single day without thinking about the sting of betrayal. any happy moment you had was spent comparing the time you felt that same feeling with him, before anything in the world was wrong to you.

-what's worse, there was something telling you that you shouldn't tell anyone about it even if you wanted to. a voice in your head kept telling you that maybe, maybe they're keeping you on a leash. maybe someone was watching you at this very moment ready to take you out the moment you spilled your experiences.

-in a way, your fears are confirmed when you meet simon again miles away from the last place you lived. you had moved for this exact reason; you never wanted to see his face for as long as you lived.

-it happens when you're walking alone in the street. you moved to this area specifically because you heard it was quieter and, more importantly, safer. but how much of that could you escape, really?

-your attacker approaches you as you're making your walk home from work, a kind of confidence on his face that makes the common individual want to roll their eyes.

-"what's a sweet thing like you doing out alone at night, huh?" he asks, his footsteps staggered like he's had one too many drinks.

-you give him the usual speel of, "oh, my friends are waiting for me... yeah, i've got a boyfriend. haha, i'm okay, no need to accompany me, thanks."

-your soft attempts at rejection only seem to agitate him, because next thing you know he's stepping toward you and putting a hand on your arm with a bone-crushing grip.

-"c'mon jus' let me-"

-his voice is cut off by the sound of a loud thud and the stranger's yelp of pain. it takes you a second, but you realize the defense on your behalf came from beside you.

-oh, thank god.

-you and your now injured attacker now adjust your gazes to sit on the silent newcomer. just like that, your settled sense of dread has come back and increased tenfold.

-there he was, with that stupid mask over his face and his hands curled into fists for preparation of what he was going to do next if the man didn't scurry off.

-"you'll leave," he says darkly under subtle pants, as if he ran before coming to your rescue. "if you know what's good for you."

-the stranger wastes no time in running off into the night, leaving you with your worst nightmare.

-for a while, you both stare at each other like you can't believe the other is real. it takes everything in you not to cry or beg him for answers. no, after everything you worked for, you're not going to throw away everything you built in the past few years to recover from him just to throw it all away now... right?

-"why are you here?" you ask coldly. "come to finish the job?"

-although your eyes were icy and your questions came with a rigid tone, there was genuine fear in your question. what if the soldier that untied you wasn't supposed to? what if you were supposed to be dead all those years ago?

-"no. never."

-even though he knows the reason why, his heart still hurts at the thought of you believing he'd just up and kill you like that.

-"really? that's rich," you scoff, except you're terrible at hiding the tremble in your breath and the tremors traveling through your body.

-spotting your growing fear, he scrambles for something, anything, to make you fear him less.

-"i was worried, that's all. after that night," he pauses, eventually deciding to skip the details of what he did to your father. "i didn't know where you went. thought i could just get over it, but i guess i just knew i needed to check in on you just in case."

-you resist the urge to roll you eyes. "right. you're back again to 'check in on me'? to come back and meddle in my life again?" you're struggling to keep your tears back as they form in your eyes. "you've already taken so much. how selfish can you be?"

-he stares at you for a moment before slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out a gold watch that belonged to your dad.

-"i'm sorry about your father, but you have to understand that he-"

-"not that, simon. it was never that," you push his hand away and the offer that came with it. his eyes became confused. "i mean you. it's always been you. you just come into my life telling me you love me, that you want to be with me so much and then just take that all away? and you never even bothered to tell me it was a lie, just let me get tied up by some stranger to be left alone and scared!"

-there's a new look in simon's eyes at your words, but it's hard to decipher them from behind the mask.

-"it wasn't a lie," he says slowly, lowering the hand with the watch in it back to his side.

-"oh, please." the trembling has not died down in the slightest. "i bet you're still mad that worker of yours took pity on me and let me leave before you could do anything about it. like i said, back to finish the job."

-your eyes are now trained on the ground. there was a conflicted feeling in your body at the moment. on one hand, this was the man that let you get tied up and left in a car while he "handled" your father. on the other, this was the man you loved. the one who was kind to your ever desire, who always understood you in ways you never knew possible.

-"i told them to let you go," he finally manages.

-"what?"

"i..." he hesitates. "i told my captain that if i was going to give them your father's location, they were to let you go no questions asked when the whole ordeal was over with." and it was true. he hated even imagining poor you, being interrogated by his colleagues in an isolated, barren room. you had been through enough.

-and even if you had been a part of your father's scheme, there was a part of simon that loved you too much to care (though he'd never admit it to himself).

-it was a good thing price trusted his judgment. he didn't know what he would've done had he said no.

-the tears are now streaming down your face and you can do nothing to stop it. it all felt like so much. you were so, so confused. if he did love you, why did you feel this way? how much of this could you trust?

-cautiously, he goes to wipe the tears away from your face, murmuring a quiet, "hate it when you cry." for a second, it was a familiar feeling. you felt like you were back in your shared flat with simon while having a breakdown over life's struggles. in moments like those, you never would have expectated that life's struggles could take the form of simon himself.

-you can't help but lean into his touch. maybe you were insane for allowing him to touch you like this, but you wanted nothing more than to let him into your life again. the resolve you worked so hard to build was crumbling away the longer you spent with him.

-"the reason it took so long for me to find you..." he's holding your face in his hands, now. "for so long, i thought i ought to leave you alone. i know i should. i wasn't lying about when i said i was worried if you were still alive, but," he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. "i also miss you. 'nd i know, 's incredibly selfish of me after everything i've done to you, but i can't help it."

-one of his hands leaves your face to slide the mask and balaclava off his face. there he was again, his aged brown eyes and soft jawline, the sides of his face littered with small scars you still remember to this day.

-"i'll make it up to you," he whispers. "anything you ask, i'll answer. about my past, your father, anything. you ask me to get you something, i'll have it for you wrapped all nice 'nd pretty. hell, i'll get on my knees and pray to you if you order me to, love."

-it was like your nightmare turned into a fantasy, having him here begging for your forgiveness.

-"anything you want, i want to give to you. jus' let me be a little selfish, too."

-you bite your lip as you think it over. you know the correct answer would be a clear, hard no, but you can't bring yourself to do it. not after all those nights wishing he was encasing you in his arms again, whispering all the things he adored about you as you drifted off into sleep.

-as much as you shouldn't be believing him, you do.

-"...anything?" you ask hesitantly, and it takes everything in simon not to pull you in close and never let go.

-again. no, he needs to be sure he won't scare you off again.

-"anything," he promises, fingertips tracing the edge of your jawline.

-"okay," you agree, the tears finally having stopped flowing. happiness does not even begin to describe what simon was feeling. "for starters, you can walk me home."

-with the watch long forgotten and broken on the edge of the sidewalk, he holds your face for a bit longer before letting go. eventually, he offers his arm to you and you take it.

-there's a part of him that mourns the years lost that he could've had with you. maybe, if he came to you sooner, he wouldn't have to be so careful about being around you, now. but, no, these were the consequences of his actions.

-at the very least, you were still giving him a second chance, and he was intent on not fucking it up this time.

#call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod imagine #cod mw x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x you #cod angst #call of duty angst #simon riley angst #ghost angst #rarawrites

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pennyellee · 1 month

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings (preview only): minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, incision wound, blood, suicide attempt, strong language, mentions of God, ...

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 583

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

author's note: well, yall, life is getting in my way, it's certainly keeping me from finishing this chapter, but it shouldn't be that long before I actually do. I wanted to drop a little preview before the sacred day I was born, which is tomorrow, 1-2-3 birthday depression. Enjoy the preview and stay tuned for the chapter. I'll be also answering some asks tomorrow, yes, i see them, and i love you all so so so so much, I just have very little of free time lately. See ya soon! lots of love, p. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡🫧

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII

Time seemed to slow as Yoongi lunged forward, reaching out to stop her, but it was too late. The blade sliced through her skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as pain seared through her, her vision swimming with darkness. She felt Yoongi’s hands on her, his panicked voice calling out to her, but it was distant as if coming from a faraway place.

“Seokjin?!!” he shouted, his voice raw with desperation.

He cradled her in his arms, his hands trembling as he pressed against the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood.

The sound of loud footsteps echoed in the corridor as others rushed forward to reach the doctor, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. But amidst the chaos, Y/N’s empty gaze remained fixed on Yoongi, her eyes still burning with flames.

“Stay with me, baby. Don’t leave me please.” Yoongi whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He pressed his lips to her forehead, willing her to hold on, to fight for her life.

But as he looked down at her pale, lifeless face, he knew that the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges. For now, all he could do was pray that she would survive, that she would find the strength to forgive him and that they would someday find their way back to each other.

“Please don’t take her away from me, my Lord.”

Yoongi prayed that it was not too late to save her from the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

One thing remained clear in Yoongi’s mind: he would do whatever it took to save her, to make amends for the pain he had caused, and to prove to her that his love was worth fighting for.

Yoongi’s voice cut through the turmoil, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness. He begged for her to forgive him, to give him another chance to make things right. No more secrets, no more lies. No more pain. He was willing to rebuild their relationship from the ground up, on a foundation of honesty and trust.

The metallic scent of blood mingled with the tang of fear, thickening the air with a palpable sense of impending doom. He ripped one of his sleeves a while ago, pressing the roughly crimpled fabric to the wound, praying that Seokjin was near. Or did anyone hear him scream frantically enough to relay the message?

“You can’t leave me, baby, please. I promise we’ll work everything through.”

He kissed and caressed her hair with his free hand which was covered with her blood. Tears blurred his vision as his hand trembled at the sight. A blood he never wished to shed.

“Please, Y/N, you have to forgive me.” The weight of his actions pressed down on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with the weight of his mistakes.

“Fucking goddammit Yoongi!”

—

Y/N set the plates on the table, pouring the hot water into a kettle of green tea as he joined her at the table. They exchanged smiles, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the kitchen and the windows providing a magnificent view of the sea.

“I’ve been thinking,-” she said with a smile on her face while she set the seaweed salad down in front of him. He hummed in response, reading today’s paper.

“About opening my practice.” He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

“Thought you wanted to wait until the babe arrives?”

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

PS: accounts highlighted in pink cannot be tagged, so if you want to be in the tag list, please make sure you have it allowed in your settings. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts @seonghwaexile

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writingoddess1125 · 8 months

Text

I am your Biggest Fan~ Pt. 2

WARNINGS: NON-Con, $mut, Face-Fuck, Spit as Lube, Hair Pulling, Dom!Buggy, Unprotected sex, DEAD-DOVE, Tsundare Buggy

Dirty Nasty $mut is below. Be warned ⚠️

I may have went overboard with the length- Also my first time writing $mut! Please tell me how I did and what you'd like to see next!

Buggy the Clown x GN Reader

Part 1: Biggest Fan Pt. 1

Buggy grinned as he stared down at (Y/N) keeping barely any space between the two of them as he bit up and down their neck. Listening to the mild hisses in pain and whimpers of fear- It was too sexy for him and made him want more.

"Captian!" A loud voice sounded making he growl and turn to see Cabaji. Holding his blades with some blood smeared on his face and costume.

"What do you want!?" Buggy Hissed in irritation.

"Sir, We have almost finished with the village. The Marines are sure to be informed" Ah right- this was a small village it wouldn't haven't taken long to pillage the place.

Buggy opened his mouth to speak but ended up getting a hard hit to his mouth as (Y/N) Slipped under his arms and tried to run. Buggy grabbing them by their hair with lightning fast reflexes yanking them back towards him- ignoring their cry for pain. Buggy growled at this as he glared down at (Y/N) before sighing-

"We set sail then, Get a move on!

He yelled at his first mate who nodded and dashed away to echo orders. Buggy gave a low chuckle at the performer, gripping their hair harder.

"Ill let you get that one for free since youre so damn cute Doll~ But looks like we are gonna have to rush our little act back to the Red Top~!"

He said cheerfully, her personality like a rubber ball constantly changing as he harshly flung them to the floor. Watching them trying to scramble for a quick second before he placed his boot on their back to pin them before looking around to for something to restrain them with. His eyes landing on the satin ribbons from the show. Snatching them quickly.

"Oh don't you love the irony~"

He grinned as he overpowered them with ease and tied the satin ribbons tightly around their hands and ankles.

"Let me go! YOU CANT DONT THIS YOU DIRTY PIR- MMHPH!"

They squealed as he shoved one of their lace fabrics into their mouth. Smirking at the sight and fluffing himself as a job well done. Quickly at the sound of the fire he grabbed the performer and tossed them over his shoulder, making sure to give their exposed ass a nice hard smack. Which earned him a angry squeal, before he took off.

Running out of the blood soaked bar and to the streets- It looked like what sidewalks in hell must. Blood, broken glass, fire and bodies- bodies of those who wouldn't be able to handle the long road of the show biz or audience left like animals on the street. (Y/N) screams muffled through the lace gag as they witnessed the carnage. Buggy laughing maniacally as he ran through those streets, sliding in the blood comically like this was another one of his performances. Seeing his crew rip the jewelry from the necks of people before either killing them or tightening harsh shackles to them.

Buggy skipped down the street till he reached his ship, Watching the new group of audience members being herded in like cattle to their final resting spots their seats. (Y/N) at this point sobbing as they were hauled away from the horror down to the Captian's room and tossed roughly on the large bed.

"Whoo! Just what I needed to get my Mojo back in seemed- Really got a full house this time!~"

He laughed, Taking off his hat and kicking his bloody boots off. Looking to (Y/N) and their pathetic form on his bed, shaking and with tears running down their cheeks

"Awww~ Baby No, No crying. I wanted to run that mascara a different way... tsk.. So messy"

The Captian grumbled, Grabbing his own little makeup bag and a hanky. He smiled down at them as he crawled towards them on the bed, Sitting before them making sure they were pinned with his legs as he chuckled at the sight of them under him. 'So cute'

He hummed as he wiped their tears away before opening the makeup bag.

"Now if you keep crying, I'm gonna have to keep doing your makeup all over again! And that's really gonna piss me off- So lets stop thay crying~"

Buggy said the last part darkly, (Y/N) staring up at Jim with pure terror as he smirked at the sight but nodded shakily. Sniffling through the lace gag as they tried to stop the tears from flowing.

"Good~ Very good sweetheart"

Carefully he reapplied the mascara and touched up the eyeshadow with what he owned which wasn't much. He pulled the lace gag from their lips and held their cheeks tightly with one hand and a firm grip

"Now stay still for this~"

He hummed, pulling out his favorite red and painted their lips perfectly. A wide grin playing as he saw his finished work, Placing another love bite to his newest toys neck but this time sinking deeper then before making (Y/N) cry out in pain as he broke skin. Pulling back to lick the blood from his teeth as he saw the mark.

"P-Please let me go- I don-"

He grabbed their face again (Y/N) flinching from his touch as he reached forward to fix their hair so they looked perfect.

"I-I don't want this- Please let me go- I'm begging"

Buggy almost rolled his eyes- if it wasn't for how adorable they were he would have slit their throat for how pathetic they sounded.

"Listen, Just so we are clear~ I am letting you live as MY plaything it's either this or I slit your throat and throw you overboard and I reeaalllyyy like you so I'd rather not waste such a pretty face"

He said with a smirk, watching the gears in the performers face as they realized the situation they were in. Giggling at the sight of realizing they didn't really have a choice, which was perfect. Reaching down to pull at the ankle restraints, tossing one peice of the satin ribbons to the side. However keeping the wrist one.

"Now nod if you understand-"

(Y/N) left their stomach sink- This was it... they either be this manic clowns play toy or end up like the poor villagers- in those shackles or worse.. They nodded shakily, Trying to hold back the want of breaking into sobs. Buggy clapped his hand happily and smiled brightly, those watercolor eyes swimming with pure joy at them understanding and in his mind agreeing- He kisses their cheek at this like a mock lovers and ran his hands down their form with a excited glee.

"You're perfect, I knew you were from the moment I laid eyes on you- So pretty and talented. And best of all you haven't even stared at my nose! I hate it when people do that, yet you never did... My name is Buggy.. Captian Buggy. I wanna hear you say it-"

He said happily, locking eyes with them again with his twisted smile. A unnatural yet beautiful smile on his lips as he stared at them.

"B-Buggy.. Captian Buggy"

They whispered back which earned another kiss to the cheek. His eyes racking their form as they sat there, one pasty on their chest, the remains of their costume with the added satin ribbons. He couldn't help but get aroused by their appearance again, chuckling darkly as he stared at them. Without saying a word he grabbed them roughly by the shoulders and pulled them off the bed, Setting them on their knees as he sat infront of.

(Y/N) Looked up at him with wide eyes, noticing the large tenting in his pants as he sat infront of her. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he wanted.. Buggy chuckled as he admired (Y/N) for a moment longer before undoing his pants- Cackling as his as his cock sprung out of his pants like a spring.

"Pop Goes the Weasal~!"

Buggy cock like the rest of him was large and unruly, the head a deep pink with a base of deep blue curls. (Y/N) looked up at Buggy again, seeing him smirking at their expression of seeing this part of him.

"Don't be shy now~"

(Y/N) nodded softly, giving a small tug on the restraints for a second of hope however there was no give so that was that- Leaning forward they parted their lips and took Buggy fully into their mouth.

Their nose brushing against the unkempt blue curls as they carefully ran their tongue over the organ. Buggy grumbling out gentle moans as he stared down at them, his pupils blown up with desire as he watched them. Laying kitten licks down his cock and coming back up to gently suck on the tip of his cock, While it felt delightful Buggy was greedy and of course- Wanted more~

Grabbing their hair harshly and smiling as he slammed them down fully on his dick, feeling them squeak and gag in shock. Setting his own pace as he roughly forced their head to bob at unnatural speeds, Moaning out roughly as he did so. His hips starting to thrust into (Y/N) mouth, enjoying the sound of the mild gagging and noises escaping (Y/N).

He looked down and saw with joy the beautiful mess he had created- (Y/N) face was red with tears, messy mascara running down their cheeks and their hair a tangled mess in his gloved hands- But it was their mouth. Oh those dirty lips wrapped around his cock staining it red with lipstick that damn near made his cum right then and there.

Yanking them off his dick he watched them struggle to catch their breath, a delicate mix of his precum laying on their tongue and mix. While (Y/N) looked up at him with those watery eyes that made him burn. In his eyes they looked like a masterpiece.

"Fuck~ I don't think I can last long with you looking like that~ Guess we gotta rush the performance Baby!~"

He cackled as he quickly pulled them up to their feet by their hair smiling at the sob that broke through them. Quickly he pushed bent them over the mattress, Smirking as he made sure to tighten the satin wrist restraints and smiled.

(Y/N) panted hard, they felt their face pressed into the plush bedding of the mattress and their eyes widened as the peices started to fall into place. Glancing back as they saw Buggy undoing his shirt fully and Tossing it to the side, As well as taking off the bandana that held his hair up. Letting it fall lose down his back with a relaxed sigh before meeting the gaze of (Y/N) again with a crooked smile.

Like the survival instincts kicked back in they scrambled against the bed trying to squirm away and kicked their legs wildly. Buggy cackled and presses his lower half against their ass essentially pinning them- Using his legs to trap their own against the wooden bed frame.

"N-NO! Wait-t!"

They sobbed out but Buggy was quick in grabbing their hair again and yanking their head back.

"Now Now Now let's not make a fuss!~ I do think we've already crossed the line of no return"

He said with a laugh, using his free hand to grab their ass and pulled to give himself a nice view an access. Forgetting he hadn't removed the thong from them yet- however no matter!~ he used his thumb to move the fabric aside and grinned, 'So smart!' Ignoring the squirming from the performer begging and trying to escape he spit at the open hole before him with a grin before positioning himself.

"Good enough~"

Purring as he started to inch his way in. (Y/N) choked back a cry as they left him inch his way in, He was too large- Unfairly so! It felt like they were being split in half. That toe curling pain that borders on pleasure shot through their body as air seemed to evade their lungs.

"That's it... Fuck"

Buggy growled out from above them, Grunting as he slammed the last of himself into them having grown inpatient to wait anymore. His hands left their hair, instead positioning themselves on their hips, feeling the dig of his gloved hands into the soft bruised flesh. With barely any time to fully adjust he started to move-

A deep growl rumbled through his chest as he started to speed up the time of his thrust, (Y/N) felt hot like liquid fire was being drawed from their core from the forced pleasure pulling our rugged breathless moans as if they had been made for that sole purpose. A broken chores of moans and groans leaving their bruised lips at Buggys ruthless pace, Buggy moaned out loudly as he felt them tightening around him his hips starting to shudder.

(Y/N) babbling out incoherent moans and whimpers at the harshness of the thrust and the feeling of a orgasm so close to breaking through them.

"F-Fuck Fuck!"

He roared out, Slamming himself harder into them with a thundering speed. Pressing his chest against their back as he panted in their ear, his blue locks edged with sweat sticking to his forehead and fanning around (Y/N) as they screamed out moans- fresh tears running down their cheeks staining the mattress below as a forced orgasm ripped through their form- their body quaking from the force of the orgasm that shot through their body- Buggy grunting loudly as he slammed himself into them fully and came.

Buggy panted hard afterwards, Releasing their bruised hip and pushing how blue locks from his face. A series of panted curses leaving his lips as he pulled out of (Y/N) marveling at the damage he had done. Seeing them limp and barely functioning he scooped them up and placed them fully on the bed, Spreading their ass again to marvel at his claim.

(Y/N) laid there panting, The ache between their legs making it impossible to get comforble especially with Buggy's rough fingers rubbing against their abused hole. The world started to fade to black from the exhaustion from the day but Buggy's voice echoed around them with his twisted chuckle.

"I can't wait for tomorrow's show (Y/N)~"

Tag List-

@honey-eyed-munson

#buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #captain buggy #x reader #one peice x reader #one peice live action #one peice #buggy one piece #gn reader #dead dove fic

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backtothefanfiction · 7 months

Text

I’ve got you | tasm!peter

Warnings: fear of heights, (this is just fluff)

Word Count: Definitely under 1k (I just wrote this in app so don’t know for sure)

A/N: literally just a quick little imagine that’s in my head before I sleep. Enjoy.

You held your eyes shut tight. You could feel his hands still tentatively braced on your hip and lower back as the wind whipped around the two of you.

You knew you were high just from the fact that the sound of the traffic logged streets of New York below you, sounded so far away.

“Baby, open your eyes.” He encouraged.

You shook your head. “No.”

“I promise I got you. Just open your eyes and look at the view.” You shook your head again and his hands grew firmer. “I promise I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall.” He said in a more serious tone. But your butt wobbled, your legs felt like jelly, toes dangling off the very edge of the building you both stood atop.

Your hand flailed about in the air, looking for his and he quickly raced to put his gloved hand in yours. Your fingers gripped tight to the familiar fabric, thumb brushing soothingly across the ribbed web texture over his fingers. You breathed deeply, counting to ten in your head. ‘You can do this. Peter’s Spider-Man, you’re safe. He does this every day. You can do this.’ You repeated in your head.

As if he could tell you were trying to psych yourself up, to finally bite the bullet and open your eyes, his voice came softly in your ear. “I’m gonna count to three okay and on three you’re gonna-“

“Open my eyes.” You finish.

“That’s my girl. Come on… Ready?” You gave a small nod, your other hand moving to hold his hand around your waist steady, making sure he wasn’t gonna let you go, just in case. “1…2…3!”

You forced yourself to open your eyes. You wobbled as you let out a little gasp but he held you steady.

“Look out, not down.” He advised and you silently nodded. You may now have use of your eyes, but it came at the cost of your voice. “You okay?” He asked. You slowly nodded, your lips held tightly together. “You wanna get down?” He asked, taking in the look of terror on your face. You nodded harder. He chuckled. “Okay. Hold tight Spider Monkey.” He said as he wrapped his arm tightly around you, your own arms holding firmly around his neck as you screwed your eyes up tight.

When he set you back down on the floor 30 seconds later, you struggled to let go.

“Was it really that bad?” He asked.

“Mhmm.” You nodded as you began to pry yourself off him. “Yeah, no. Nope, I don’t wanna do that again.”

“But you like swing?” He questioned.

“I like the feeling, don’t like looking.” You confirmed.

“Okay.” He noted. “So… do you wanna go get some ice cream?” He asked.

“Yeessss!” You sighed with relief, eager to put the experience behind you and replace it with something good. “But can we walk, I think I’ve had enough of being… up there, for the day” you say pointing upwards at the surrounding skyscrapers.

“Yeah, okay.” He sighs but you know he’s smiling under his mask.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #one shot #imagine #Spider-Man imagine

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freesia-writes · 11 days

Text

Pets4Vets: Jesse (1/4)

Chapter 1 of 4 Word Count: 3.2k Jesse x Fem Reader

“Thanks for dinner,” she said quietly, shifting her eyes from her plate to his and crossing one arm across herself to rub the outside of the other.

“Yeah baby,” Jesse purred with a cocky grin. “I mean, I got the dinner but you brought the dessert.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a treat,” he said with a wag of his eyebrows. “Want to take the party back to your place?”

“Oh, um. I’ve got to work early, so I think that’s all I’ve got time for now. But thanks again,” she offered, trying to mask the cringe on her face with a disingenuous smile.

“Alright, your loss… heheh…”

“Yeah…”

They made their way to the door of the restaurant, Jesse holding it open for her as she shuffled awkwardly past him. She hesitated on the sidewalk, turning back to face him with that same feeble grin. Another thanks for dinner. An offer to walk her home. Declined. A question about another date. After a long, uneasy pause, that was also declined.

Jesse kept up his best face, chest puffed and confidence set firmly in place, until she disappeared around the corner, then he slumped, turning to begin his own walk home. A glance at the chrono reminded him that he wasn’t allowed back in the apartment he shared with Kix for another hour and a half… The cramped flat they rented together didn’t allow for much privacy, and his roommate had been excited to take advantage of the alone time with his partner from Right to Love, a matchmaking service for clones wanting to live as freely as they were able since the war had ended and they were released from service.

The endless flashing lights of the Coruscant streets were oppressively bright as he plodded aimlessly, unsure of where to go. A deep sense of resentment was growing within, and he didn’t realize he was muttering under his breath until a few strange looks from passersby clued him in. Many of his brothers had found immediate success with Right to Love, now experiencing the joys of a relationship in ways they’d never thought possible when they’d been nothing more than property their entire lives. And yet here he was, having tried to connect with five different people now, each one entirely put off by the end of the first date. His assigned case manager at Right to Love had assured him that matches weren’t always perfect the first time around, and sometimes the process took a little longer to ensure the ideal fit.

Doubt was growing in the pit of his stomach as he walked. What was it about him that was getting in the way? He was throwing himself wholeheartedly into this pursuit, and yet each attempt seemed to be less encouraging than the last. The resentment began to coil in his chest, heating up into anger, and he leaned into it. Anger was familiar. Anger, he could deal with. It made him feel powerful and in control, pushing aside any tendrils of fear or sadness that lay at its core. A sign up his head caught his eye, and he turned abruptly to barge through the door.

Music thumped inside, the small crowd on the dance floor moving as one to the beat, and he jostled his way around the edge to find a seat at the bar. He waited for a while, watching the bartender help customer after customer, including those that had arrived after him. When the man began polishing some glasses, Jesse finally called out, eyebrows furrowed.

“Can I get some service here?”

The bartender slowly finished wiping his glass, sidling down to the end and resting his palms on the counter with no attempt to hide the disdain on his face.

“Did your giant face tattoo block you from seeing the sign on the door?” he drawled. “No clones. Go back to your own district.”

“You’re living in the past,” Jesse growled, the snake in his chest twisting and hissing. “Credits are credits. What does it matter who they come from?”

“Just get out,” exhorted a Zabrak on the stool beside him who’d had his back firmly turned to him from the start. “Before we make you.”

He’d had enough.

“Go ahead and try,” he snarled, smacking a fist on the counter and rising to his feet. The Zabrak was in his face immediately, flanked by a nat-born and a Weequay who looked far too excited to throw hands.

“Know your place,” the nat-born taunted, leaping forward to throw a swing, which Jesse dodged and countered with one of his own, sinking a fist into the man’s stomach and earning a satisfying grunt of pain. The brawl exploded, quickly changing the three-on-one situation into an entire mob set on teaching the clone a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. The ARC trooper held his own, ducking and swinging, using leverage to toss one body into another, but the blows were coming from every direction. A foot to the back of his knee knocked him off balance, right into someone else’s fist.

The next thing he knew, he was unceremoniously thrown onto the sidewalk among a litany of curses and insults, and he scrambled to his feet, body throbbing with numerous bruises from the punches and kicks that had landed as he’d tried to hold them all off. His nose was bleeding, and he wiped it on his sleeve before pinching it hard, stalking toward his building in a tornado of rage.

He sat outside on the stoop for the remaining hour, ruminating on the sheer injustice of it all. But eventually, the hot indignation quieted, and in the stillness, he fought to stuff down the disappointment that whispered judgment and failure in its place.

* * *

“Come on, give it a try.” Kix straightened his scrubs as Jesse slouched against his bedroom doorway. “It’ll be a different dynamic. Might be helpful.”

“I don’t need help,” Jesse scoffed, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“I know,” Kix affirmed quickly, “But the food carts in the square are delicious. So bring your next date and just come along for that.” He smoothed a hand over his neatly-cut hair and tilted his head at his mirror, checking that the first few letters of his head tattoo were hidden as much as possible by his dark locks. The medical clinic he worked at had some fairly strict rules around personal appearance, and considering how difficult it was to find clone-friendly jobs, no matter how qualified they were, he wasn’t about to risk losing his placement over something as trivial as that.

“Fine,” Jesse huffed. “I’m doing this for the ronto wraps, you know.”

Kix grinned, clapping him on the back and squeezing his shoulder as he headed for the front door. “You’ve been doing too much upper-body, vod. Have a leg day.”

“Hah. Go clean some crusty old geezers, di’kut.”

“Oh please. I’m saving lives out there,” Kix threw over his shoulder as the door closed behind him. Jesse sighed. That did seem like a much better purpose than his own job as a personal trainer at a local gym, where most of his clients were flaky hopefuls who wanted to get into shape without putting in the time and work that it required. It paid well enough, though, and gave him an outlet for a sense of purpose as well as a place to exercise. If he were honest, he’d hoped he’d meet someone there, figuring they’d be more aligned with his interests and lifestyle, but after months upon months of dismal prospects, he’d gone ahead and applied at Right to Love. He sighed, turning to rummage in the cooling chamber until it was time for work.

* * *

Days of work and leisure blended together, and Jesse found himself spending more time at the gym, adding cardio sessions on top of his bodybuilding regimen as a way to blow off steam. He finally got another match from Right to Love and agreed to go on the double date with Kix and his partner, laboring a disproportionate amount of time over what to wear. He didn’t want to admit it, but with each date he felt increasingly desperate. Desperate to prove that there wasn’t something wrong with him. Desperate to feel like he had access to the whole variety of options for a “normal” life. Desperate to enjoy the care, intimacy, and connection that some of his brothers had found.

He straightened the long-sleeved henley shirt and rolled up the sleeves a little. Ladies loved the forearms, right? Slipping a wallet into his back pocket, he checked his reflection one last time and ventured into the living room where Kix was waiting for him.

“Here goes nothing,” he grumbled.

“That’s the spirit,” Kix nodded sagely, a fond smirk on his face.

The square had a weekly event where all the food carts in the vicinity would gather to offer their delectable delicacies, and there really was something for everyone, making it a very popular attraction. Jesse swaggered beside his date, Kix and his partner bringing up the rear, and shared stories of valor and bravery as she nodded and made small sounds of agreement here and there. The four of them had shared some snacks from a variety of vendors and were now walking it off along the city streets.

Coming to a somewhat scenic overlook of a steep dropoff with many Coruscant levels stretching down below, the four of them sat on a couple of benches. Kix stretched his arm across his partner’s shoulders, and they nestled into his side with an affectionate gaze. Jesse shifted awkwardly beside his date, a beautiful redhead that made his mouth go dry when he tried to talk. Yet he’d pushed past it with bravado and confidence, he felt simultaneously certain and completely unsure of her interest. Kix was murmuring in his date’s ear, bringing a demure smile to their face, and Jesse turned to look at the redhead beside him.

“So… You mentioned some adventures in the jungle… Did I tell you about our campaign on Felucia?” he asked, launching into the story before she was able to respond. He wove an exhilarating tale of their encounter with both Separatist forces and the Commerce Guild, finishing with a flourish and grinning proudly.

“Sounds like the war was wild,” she offered.

“You’re karking right it was,” he laughed, attempting to slip his arm around her shoulder as well, but she stood up quickly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I… I’m gonna go.”

Jesse watched her leave, speechless, then was flooded with embarrassment as he felt the eyes of Kix and his partner on his back. He slowly turned to face them, and the empathetic looks on their faces added insult to the injury.

“See you at home,” he muttered to his brother, nodding to Kix’s partner and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he trudged back to their apartment. Kix watched him for a long time, nodding at the murmured condolences from his partner, who was incredibly kind and gentle, both admiring and strong in their own right, and he was regularly blown away at the fact that he’d been able to find them. Their compassion only served to deepen his own hope that his brother could find whatever it was he was looking for.

* * *

The next morning, a much-needed day off of work for both of them, Jesse was sprawled on the couch with a lazy hand resting on the steaming mug of caf on the nearby side table. Kix was scrambling some eggs in the kitchen, casting the occasional glance over the counter at his brother’s dejected slump. He was torn; Jesse was notoriously stubborn, but Kix also knew him better than most anyone else, and if he kept continuing in the same pattern, he would likely keep getting the same result. He flipped the eggs one more time and turned off the burner, scattering some shredded cheese over the top of them and putting a lid over the pan to melt it all together.

“You… uh… seemed different last night,” he ventured, picking up his own caf, now mostly cold, and sitting in the armchair across from the downcast clone.

“Mmm,” was the only response.

“Does it always go that way?”

“Mmm.”

“What’s… What’s with the swagger stuff?” Kix asked, abandoning the subtlety. Jesse cast a hard look at him, but he caught the quickly-concealed flicker of hurt beneath the tattooed face.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just doesn’t really seem like you. Did you answer the questionnaire honestly?”

“Yes!” Jesse said defensively, furrowing his brow.

“Well… then that might be why the dates aren’t going so well, if they’re expecting you to act… normal. You’re smart and pretty down-to-earth most of the time. Last night it felt more like you were trying to prove yourself somehow.”

His words stung, and Jesse balked at the feeling of being perceived so accurately. But a sense of resignation had settled in again, and he shrugged, attempting a nonchalant facade.

“I’m just gonna get a pet. That’ll have to lo–... to put up with me, right?”

“Sure,” Kix sighed. “I’ve heard good things about P4V.”

“Look, di’kut, I know I can’t even get a second date, let alone some bedroom action, but I don’t think I have the credits for a sex worker… At least not a good one.”

“Classy as always,” Kix rolled his eyes. “It’s not a brothel, it’s called Pets 4 Vets. They have a variety of service animals to help with the difficult aspects of adjusting to civilian life.”

“I want a good-sized Massiff, not some fluffy little Loth-rat to lick me when I have ‘big feelings’,” Jesse snorted.

“Kriff, you are thick sometimes.”

“Just these thighs.”

“Right. Just try it.”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

You stroked a hand down the bogling's back, running fingers along the soft fur of its fluffy tail. It leaned into your touch with a contented noise, and you closed the cage behind it, watching it begin delicately eating its food before moving to the next kennel. You’d been working at Pets 4 Vets for a while now, and you felt thoroughly at home amid a great group of coworkers and an even better assortment of animals from every corner of the galaxy. They were all either in the process or finished with their training to be emotional support animals for the veterans who had served the Republic so well. You’d been a little unsure around the clones at first, not having spent any time with them before this, but they’d grown on you quite a bit and you’d been amazed at the complexity and individuality of each one. You’d also developed a knack for pairing them with animals, although it still took a few tries at times.

“Good morning, tookas,” you said warmly as you slid the food bowl into the next crate, watching the two loth-cats eye it lazily from where they were curled around each other in the corner. They were a bonded pair, and last summer they had surprised the entire staff with a full litter of the most adorable babies you’d ever seen, who had since grown and been placed into loving homes. None of you had been too eager to see the parents leave, however, and it just so happened that none of the troopers so far had been the ideal match for them. The two of them roamed the clinic during the day, curling up near computer terminals or gracing guests in the lobby with their tails high in the air. At night, all the animals were tucked into their cozy kennels until morning, when they’d be fed and let out into their various programs for the day. Some had hours of training, others enjoyed free time inside or out, and some simply spent as much time as possible shadowing the clinic staff.

“I wish I got breakfast in bed,” you murmured as you closed their door, watching the loth-cats yawn and nuzzle one another. You felt a deep sense of longing in your chest, and moved to the next cage to try to keep your mind from continuing on its current trajectory. But it was a lost cause. “Wish I had someone to wake up next to as well,” you continued. The dating scene hadn’t been kind to you, and if you were honest, you’d pretty much given up. Your friends urged you to keep the dream alive, to go on double dates with them and to meet the various eligible bachelors they knew, but nothing felt like a good fit. You assumed the problem was with you. And that was alright. You were happy enough on your own…you said. The clinic staff was a tightly-knit group, for the most part, and you authentically loved the animals. You felt fulfilled by the unconditional love you shared with each one, and you were so proud at the growth you got to witness as they went through training.

The horde was fed, each one was released to its daily duty, and you began to clean all of the kennels, wondering if you should take your friend up on her offer to check out 79s. It felt completely out of your comfort zone, however. Not because of the clones, but you just generally weren’t a fan of loud, raucous environments, and you weren’t much of a drinker… So it didn’t seem like a very attractive prospect. As much as you were mocked for it, you weren’t really keen on one night stands, nor were you good at “keeping it casual”. You wanted a relationship with depth and longevity. Sometimes you wondered if the taunts about you were correct, that you had in fact watched too many cheesy holofilms and now had an unrealistic view of romance.

Whatever.

A few hours of cleaning were followed by an hour or so at your computer, reviewing and categorizing the new applications. You didn’t realize you’d been completely hunched the entire time, your back rounded as you tapped away at the keys, and would have remained blissfully unaware if the receptionist hadn’t commented on it as soon as she popped in.

“Geez, you look like a shrimp,” she laughed, dropping a data card on your desk.

“You’re a bit of a cod yourself,” you teased, and she giggled, swatting your arm. “What’s this?”

“A new app. I was gonna bring him back here in person but he said he had lots of ‘big important stuff’ to do.” She rolled her eyes. “Quite the cocky one. He didn’t want to go through the interview process because he ‘knew what he wanted and it was a big dog’.” A chuckle followed the words as they both nodded. They were familiar with the type.

“Did you tell him he has to do an interview if he wants anything at all?”

“Yup. Said you’d contact him.”

“Lucky me.”

“Thought you might like a challenge. It’s been quiet for you lately,” she grinned.

“Considerate as always,” you smiled right back.

“Have some fun with him. He could use someone taking him down a peg or two. Although I thought I could see the remnant of a black eye, so maybe someone already tried. He’s a big boy, too.” A suggestive wink.

“Oh boy. Can’t wait.”

Next Chapter

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sbdskate · 8 months

Text

Laws Of Attraction (Part 7) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): fluff, language, slight angst, alcohol consumption, hangovers, sexual themes, self-pleasure, references to sexual activities, NSFW

Word Count: 5,209

A/N: Thank you for your patience while I took a bit of a break. Hopefully it won’t be as long while I finish up *the last part (*hopefully but no promises - iykyk). I hope you enjoy, please don’t be a ghost reader! Constructive criticism is always welcome <3

Daniel woke up the next morning feeling like an anvil dropped on his head. He cursed the alarm but was thankful he had the foresight to set one. It was a tall order trying to sort through the details of the night before. He had his phone, keys, and wallet, so that was a win at least. What time had he gotten back to the hotel? He recounted the most peculiar dream that you had been in his room at one point – he reminded himself to lay off the melatonin, it always made his subconscious mind run wild. It took every ounce of energy to push himself upright, swinging his legs to the side of the bed at a glacial pace. Fighting the throbbing in his head, he almost missed the pills and water on the nightstand and a trash bin next to him on the floor. Drunk Daniel had never been so thoughtful or organized. Maybe it wasn’t melatonin after all. Those familiar butterflies he felt every time he thought of you fluttered away.

On second thought, definitely not butterflies.

After unceremoniously emptying the contents of his stomach, he gladly consumed the gifts you had left for him. He took a much longer shower than usual, doing his best to wash away the anxiety brought on by his hangover. He was going into the last race weekend of the year (maybe two) feeling like absolute shit. The thought of you putting him to bed initially made him giddy but it was overshadowed by fear of the unknown. His memory of the night before was fuzzy at best and but for the physical evidence you left behind, he would have gone on believing the kiss in Brazil was the last time the two of you interacted. Fuck, he had made such a fool of himself. What else had he inadvertently said or done last night? If you had walls up before, you probably now also had a moat, barbed wire, and trained militia on guard. In his efforts to get closer to you, you ended up pushing him away. You were the sun and he was Icarus.

But clearly all was not lost if you had helped him in his hour of need. If he could trust his “dream,” you had called him your friend. You had worn his clothes. You insinuated there would be a world where the two of you would be alone in a bedroom again. If all true, the culmination of those things did not add up to a person who wanted to completely shut him out. Then again, maybe that was you simply being you – that is, a good person who would show the same compassion to anyone whether they were your lover, friend, or stranger on the street.

He hadn’t had this lack of confidence picking up girls since he was an awkward teenager. From the beginning you had been a puzzle. You did not immediately fawn over him and fall victim to his charms. He sensed you may have even disliked him upon your first meeting, though he couldn’t blame you – he had severely underestimated you. Thereafter, every one of your laughs was hard earned which made them all the more sweet. You were accomplished in your own right and impressing you was a tall order, but when he succeeded it felt as though he had won Monaco a million times over.

He thought back to Austin. So much had gone wrong, but so much had gone oh so right. There was an ease about you that weekend that he had only previously been privy to in staccato bursts. Whatever internal struggle you had been fighting seemingly slowed, allowing him to peel back all your layers. Even in that sad corridor, he could’ve sat next to you in silence for all of eternity and he would have been happy.

Then there was that pesky elephant in the room. In just a few days, he technically wouldn’t be your client anymore. He could get lost in all the tempting possibilities, but he had to stay focused. He’d cross that bridge later. Until then, all he had to do was stay in your good graces.

When the day came for your first client meeting in Abu Dhabi, you weren’t sure what version of Daniel you were going to get. You wouldn’t be surprised if he froze you out again like he did after Austin. It would be disappointing but understandable. You had explained yourself more than enough at this point though, and the position you found yourselves in wasn’t your fault. Nobody could have predicted that your client would fall for you when you were selected as counsel for the driver. You couldn’t control his response, and if you reasserting your boundaries made him that upset then so be it.

No, there were no nerves this time but there was still an underlying anxiety that caused your heart to race. The partner was waiting at the offsite dinner location when you arrived. It was an elegant restaurant, so you had selected a pretty but conservative wrap dress for the occasion.

“Y/n, so glad you could make it,” he said as he extended his arms for a small hug.

“Me? I’ve been at every race weekend, not sure where you’ve been,” you teased.

“I know, I know, it’s been busy. I appreciate all your hard work through this. I’ve told the managing partner about your efforts, we’re all very impressed.” You couldn’t help the growing smile on your face, but you did your best to hide the absolute giddiness swelling in you. That bonus was yours to lose at this point and if this trajectory continued, you could make partner by the time you were 35.

“Thank you for the recognition, but I’m just doing my job,” you feigned in modesty. You knew how many hours of sleep you’d lost over the course of the last few months between the work itself and the constant travel. You knew how much you missed your friends and family during this time, and the other countless sacrifices you’d made along the way. But you would do it all over again for the once in a lifetime opportunity. And you never would have met Daniel - that certainly counted for something. Maybe after last week your relationship wouldn’t be the same going forward, but his companionship until now had offered you an unexpected fulfillment that felt foreign.

Then, as if someone had read your mind:

“She’s being modest,” you heard behind you, a hand resting on your shoulder. You turned to see him in nice slacks, a crisp white t-shirt, and sport coat. For someone that was probably fighting for their life this morning and suffered through a long media day, he cleaned up very nicely. You did your best not to openly ogle, though he caught the quickened rise and fall of your chest. You couldn’t help but smile back when he gave you his signature grin.

“Daniel, great to see you,” Joe said as he extended his arm past you to shake his hand.

“Likewise, nice of you to finally show up.” His tone and features were so pleasant that he could pass off the genuine dig as jest. Either way, the partner was unphased.

“Well, that’s why I brought in my very best associate to help me out as back up.”

“I suppose I should consider myself lucky then,” he said, smiling back at you. “Though, I don’t think I would call her ‘back up’by any means.”

The familiar heat rose to your cheeks as you bit your lip to unsuccessfully suppress your bashful smile. You gently elbowed him to convey your thanks. Both for defending you but also for the normalcy of the interaction.

You anticipated a level of awkwardness after your nondescript rejection in Brazil, thinking he would try to distance himself as he had after Austin. You wouldn’t fault him if he sat next to Joe, but he plopped down right next to you as though nothing had happened. An unexpected wave of relief washed over you. It seemed clear that you were “good”, whatever that meant. Sure, it helped to have Joe there as a buffer, but the two of you would have probably been fine on your own. The thought gave you solace.

The uneventful meal concluded with a plan of action in place for the rest of the weekend. The three of you made your way out of the restaurant towards the valet.

“I hope the two of you will enjoy the weekend at least until we complete the signing on Monday? Consider it a thank you.” It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that line before, but it felt different this time.

“I’ll have to take some calls here and there, but sure, why not,” Joe responded, oblivious to the fact that the message was hardly meant for him.

“Good, I’ll make sure you guys have your paddock passes for the next few days.”

Of course as if on cue the partner’s phone went off as you exited the restaurant.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this. But hey, great dinner. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yep, have a good night,” you trailed off as he walked away, smiling through gritted teeth. You watched as he got into the corporate car by himself already focused on something else entirely, even though you were all going back to the same place.

“Typical.” You turned to Daniel, surprised at his observation.

“Could you tell?”

“Seems like we both have bosses who abandon us.” You smiled.

“What an unfortunate bonding experience.”

It was a heavy conversation, but the air was light. You both giggled at your misfortunes. When it died down, he broke the silence.

“Uh, thanks for making sure I was… accounted for last night.”

“Oh,” your cheeks dusted pink. You had such high hopes he wouldn’t remember. Maybe there was still a chance, perhaps Lando had simply filled him in. “Sure, no biggie. It happens to the best of us.”

“I didn’t do or say anything embarrassing, right?” Daniel tested the waters, partially playing dumb. His memory may be fuzzy, but he knew enough. You pursed your lips together.

“Nothing more than usual,” you said with a smile, playing it off. He felt slightly disappointed. He wished you would admit to the kiss along with the hopes you’d bestowed upon him – but maybe it was just in his head after all. Either way, you didn’t seem entirely comfortable with the conversation and that was a clear enough message to him. He knew what he needed to do.

“Can I just say,” he paused. He might need to go back inside for another drink. “- that I’m sorry. For everything. You’re just here trying to do your job, and I’m not making it easier for you. You’ve said no, and I keep trying dumb shit. I should have stopped.”

Your chest tightened. The apology was somehow welcome, appreciated, and warranted. But you also found it endearing which made you like him even more. And it also probably meant that he had lost interest and that last part didn’t make you feel great either. You wanted to tell him everything but doing so would only complicate things. Instead you bit your tongue and gave a polite smile.

“Thank you. Apology accepted.”

“No, thank you. I’ve made an ass of myself over and over again and you put up with it.”

“Well. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from my first celebrity client, but ‘ass’ was certainly in the realm of possibility,” you said cheekily. “Nothing I wasn’t prepared for.” The lie slipped easily through your teeth.

“So you assumed I was going to be an ass?” he asked with a laugh.

“What did Drive to Survive call you guys? ‘Talented, rich, and cocky’?” He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, but his face was still warm and welcoming.

“Don’t tell me you watch that garbage.”

“For research purposes, obviously,” you said sarcastically.

He watched your eyes twinkle and the sly grin that graced your features as the desert wind gently blew your hair around your face, framing it perfectly. You fixed the strand he so badly wanted to tuck behind your ear yourself. Your wrap dress fluttered just so, allowing him to catch a quick glimpse of your upper thigh, contrasting the otherwise modest outfit. He wondered what it would be like to tug at the delicate bow at the side of your waist that kept the whole ensemble together. He caught himself in the middle of his thoughts.

“Since your boss left you stranded, can I give you a ride back?” You looked around, a serious look on your face. You whispered in a low voice.

“Is that… appropriate? I know men and women aren’t supposed to be alone together here.” He wanted to laugh but didn’t want to make you feel bad. Of course the lawyer wanted to follow everything to a T. He knew from experience that the morality laws were loosely enforced at best, but he wasn’t sure how much of that was attributed to his own privilege.

“If it makes you feel any better, I could pretend to be your chauffeur.” The line earned him a laugh.

“An F1 driver as a chauffeur. That’s rich.” He smiled, satisfied with his efforts to put you at ease.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yeah, but the expectations are pretty high.”

“You’ll have to let me know if I have a backup career as a personal driver if this whole F1 thing doesn’t work out.”

The valet pulled around an unassuming black SUV with tinted windows. Without skipping a beat, he opened the back passenger’s seat door waiting for you with an extended hand dipping into an exaggerated bow.

“Your chariot, m’lady.”

“Oh my, what service,” you contrived dramatics with a hand over your heart. Your other hand graciously accepted his while getting into the car. The familiar pulsating electricity coursed through the touch and lingered as you watched him close the door.

“Home Jeffrey,” you said, donning the worst British accent you could muster when he settled in the drivers seat. He peered at you in the reflection of the rearview mirror. You looked relaxed and happy, and that was enough for him. Your eyes locked, and you caught a glimpse of those dimples that could melt polar ice caps.

It was a comfortable ride back to the hotel, a little small talk here and there. He tossed the keys to the valet and helped you out of the car, again trying to memorize the feeling of your palm in his before reluctantly letting go.

He pressed for his floor in the elevator. He looked at you when you didn’t follow suit, wondering for a moment whether he forgot his manners.

“Uh, what floor are you?” he asked politely, hovering over the buttons.

“Oh… I actually ended up down the hall from you.”

“Oh.” A loud silence fell. It was unclear whether the arrangement was fortuitous or simply torture for both parties, the other so close but just out of reach.

The doors opened and you tried to hide a sheepish look as you started walking in the same direction.

“Are you following me now?” he joked. “I don’t need help getting into bed this time, promise.”

You stammered a bit, trying to find the right words but decided to keep your mouth shut. You had begged the concierge to find you any other room but she insisted the hotel was fully booked and there were no other options. But you realized in that moment it would only be weird if you made it weird. Humor was always the best deflection so you decided to lean into it. Your ability to hide your growing smile began to falter. Looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, you didn’t say a word as you walked past him when he finally stopped in front of his door. Only looking back in his direction to wave when you stopped in front of yours which happened to be the room over. You both snorted before dissolving into laughter over the absurdity of it all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to throw any ragers,” you said between fits of giggles.

“You mean I wouldn’t be invited?” he asked in faux disbelief.

“You know you’re always welcome, what’s a party without thee Daniel Ricciardo? I just wouldn’t want to disrupt your ‘high performance athlete’ routine before race day.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“If you threw a ‘rager’, everyone would be sitting in a circle doing face masks with Celine Dion playing in the background like some kind of selfcare séance. And it would be over by 10pm.” The laughter that had finally started to slow picked up again. His heart skipped a beat seeing your nose scrunch.

“Hey now, you forgot the scented candles. That open flame is a safety hazard.”

“You are just too wild and crazy.”

“You know me so well. I’ll do my best to keep it down, no promises though.” The laughter slowed again, but the wide grins remained.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow… neighbor.” You smiled, liking the way it sounded coming from him.

“I guess so, good night neighbor.”

You closed your respective doors, each acutely aware of the one wall that separated you.

Daniel rubbed the sleep out of his eyes the next morning, aimlessly palming his nightstand to turn off his alarm. He made his way to the bathroom, slowly shaking away his slumber. He was washing his hands when he realized there was more noise than what was coming from the faucet. He turned the water off and listened. He picked out the sound of running water. There may have been music playing from a phone, but it was drowned out by a muffled, unmistakable, offkey voice he could pick out anywhere.

Cuz when the night faaaaallls

My loneliness calls

Boo doo boo DOOP

Ohhhhh I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the HEAT with somebody

yeaAHH I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me

He smiled to himself listening to you try to do lead, backup vocals, and instrumentals of the Whitney Houston classic, reminiscing back to your performance with Lando in Japan. The warmth that spread from his chest to his toes woke him up, suddenly feeling a renewed sense of optimism for the practice sessions ahead.

As he left to head to the paddock, he heard another door close. His timing was meticulous and he counted his blessings that he should be so fortunate to share more time with you. He couldn’t help the giant smile that grew on his face at the sight of you, immediately imagining you singing in the shower. You double checked for something in your bag before you looked up to meet his gaze. You looked behind you to make sure his dimples weren’t reserved for someone else.

“Hi?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Hi.” He knew he looked dumb, but he didn’t care. He was allowed to smile at you, right?

“You’re awfully happy to see me this morning.” The corners of your mouth turned upward, marked with a cautious skepticism.

“Yeah, h-” He stopped himself. How was your sold out stadium tour in the shower? But if this was a ritual of yours, he didn’t want to miss out on future performances – he did still have three more days with you. “I’m just excited for the practice session.”

Your smile relaxed somewhat. “I’m glad you’re feeling confident. Do you wanna walk over together?”

“Oh, you’re going there too?” He mentally smacked himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Where else would you be going?

“Well yeah. You invited Joe and I, remember?”

“Right. Wasn’t sure if you were off to do lawyer things.”

“I mean I am, but the track is a lot more fun than the hotel lobby. Y’know?”

He did. And the walk there was much nicer with your company. He enjoyed this new morning routine and would be sure to make it happen the rest of the weekend. On his own he may have felt the gravity of the situation more, may have simply gone through the motions to get it all over with, the weight on his shoulders too much to bear. But your presence invigorated him. Helped him believe that there were better things on the horizon. He just needed to clear this one last hurdle and he had the strength to do it. He was consistent in the Friday practice sessions, and your shower version of “Pocketful of Sunshine” the next morning helped him place P10 for qualifying.

You too found this morning pattern soothing. You were pleasantly surprise that you enjoyed your new neighbor more than you thought you would, and happy that what you thought would be a source of stress and awkwardness brought you peace and comfort. When race day rolled around, you had no reason to believe it would be any different than practice or qualifying, other than the fact it was a night race. So you caught up on work in the morning before you got yourself ready as usual. You decided it was a Celine Dion day, happily belting “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now,” unbeknownst to you that you had an audience. In another pleasant turn of events, Joe had given you the ok to leave the work at home, granting full permission to enjoy the race. You initially went for your yellow midi dress, but it triggered flashbacks to Austin. It was best to put it away, no need to risk the bad juju. You struggled to pick something else, changing no less than five times. Somehow you needed to be modest, but in something where you wouldn’t overheat, but it would cool down once the sun set, but it also had to be stylish because you were again going to be surrounded by A-listers across an array of disciplines who looked like they just walked off the runway in Milan. For once you wished you had the ease of just throwing on a suit and being done with the whole ordeal. But the thought got your creative juices flowing, and you settled on a sleek black blazer dress. You threw on the Louboutins you bought with your first Big Law pay check that only came out on special occasions, and topped off the outfit with some big gold hoops for good measure. You could always fake confidence with red bottoms, red lips, and gold hoops.

Even though you had no work with you this time, you had grown accustomed to arriving fashionably early to these events to coincide with Daniel. You gave a friendly knock on his door, expecting him to be ready at the same time as you as he had the last two days. But nothing could have prepared you for coming face to face with the Australian and his Adonis-like figure on full display. Of course he would have no shame answering the door in just a smile and a towel, though with a body like that it was amazing he wore clothes ever.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I. Uh. Um. I-” You continued to stutter as you tried to figure out where to look. You feebly tried to avert your gaze but his beautifully tan muscles demanded attention, from his shoulders, to his pecs, to his abs. You wanted to study and write a dissertation on the tattoos on his arms. You definitely wanted to memorize the line of the towel that hung just so on his hips. But you also didn’t want to make it obvious that you were staring. So your eyes darted from the ceiling, to his body, to the floor, then back to his body, in a chaotic loop.

“My eyes are up here.” His voice dripped with smugness. You definitely couldn’t look there. But you obliged, only to be met with the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen in your life. Your entire body was on fire, and the arrogant twinkle in his eye only stoked it. You knew he was hot. God knew he was hot. Everyone knew he was hot. And he knew it too. And he was having the best time seeing you flustered.

“When you’re done having a stroke, care to tell me why you’re here?”

“You have to be there in less than an hour, I thought you’d be ready to go and we could head down together!” Your tone came off as frustrated. And you were, for more reasons than one. He rolled his eyes.

“We aren’t that far and I don’t take that long to get ready. Give me a few minutes, I’ll be right out.”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be in my room,” you said curtly, and spared no time practically running back.

Daniel laughed to himself as he closed the door to continue getting ready. Seeing you lose any measure of control had become one of his favorite things, a stark contrast to your usual moda operendi. He paused though when an unfamiliar sound came from the wall you shared. He stood in front of it for a moment trying to decipher what it was. It sounded like an electric shaver, but why would you need one of those? His eyes widened and the blood rushed to his cheeks and crotch as it dawned on him.

Your hands were almost shaking as you got the door open. You rummaged through your bag to find your vibrator, practically ransacking your room in the process. You definitely had time to rub one out before he would be ready. The picture of his muscly tattooed thighs pressing on the back of yours flooded your brain, back bowed for him with his name falling off your tongue. Your body ached for it to be a reality, one that was so close yet so far. You fell on the bed and pressed the toy where you needed it, eyes squeezed shut, desperately wishing it was the appendage of your friendly neighbor.

Daniel had never gotten ready so fast in his entire life. No doubt, what he just witnessed was the epitome of sexual frustration. Knowing you, you would be quick and efficient about it – he could imagine you splayed on the bed with the hem of your dress bunched up. You probably didn’t even take off your underwear. An internal battle waged within him – whether to rub one out himself or rush to catch you in your immediate post orgasm bliss, the latter ultimately winning. He would have plenty of time later to take care of himself.

You were so close, when your phone went off.

DR: I’m outside your door.

The disturbance in your momentum should have thrown you off. But the idea that he was basically right there while you touched yourself pushed you right to the edge. Another fantasy intruded your thoughts, imagining what it might be like if he were to come inside and watch you. Your phone dinged again a second later.

DR: Come.

And you did.

You barely had time to come down from your orgasm as you smoothed out your skirt and grabbed your bag again.

“Hi sorry I’m ready,” you said breathlessly as you strode past him.

Daniel chewed the inside of his cheek. He didn’t miss the bright pink flush or the light sheen that graced your features. Your obvious glow matched the flyaways that now stuck out from your otherwise perfectly coiffed hair that made him want to drag you into his room and put that silly little imagination of yours to shame. Demand to know whether your dreams were as good as the real thing with a fistful of your hair in his hand as he buried himself deep inside you. Demand to know whether that stupid toy made you feel like half the woman he did. And that dress. That beautiful dress that hugged your body in all the right places, that showed off its peaks and valleys, that teased just the tip of your cleavage before sealing your tits away like a cruel riddle. He would ruin it. The stiffness in his pants pestered him, and he pushed the impossible thoughts away. He settled on tucking one of the out-of-place strands behind your ear, not missing the opportunity to tease you even if only a little.

“Everything ok? You’re all flushed.”

You bit back a whimper as the tip of your ear fired signals to your core and you suddenly wished your hair follicles had tactile sensors. You would’ve been blushing if your face wasn’t already red.

“Yeah… I, uh, realized I lost an earring. So I had to find it.”

“Did you?” The way his warm brown eyes bore into yours made your stomach do cartwheels.

“Yeah.” Why were you suddenly panting?

“Good. I’m glad you, uh… found your earring.” If you blinked you would’ve missed it, but you could’ve sworn you saw the flash of a smirk cross his face before it was gone. Were you still talking about earrings?

You continued to make your way to the paddock together, you stayed just a pace ahead still hesitant to make eye contact with the driver. You whipped around though when you heard a distinct *click* only to find him with his camera still aimed at you. Another *click*, the flash blinding you momentarily.

“Daniel!” The blush that had finally started to fade came back with a vengeance. He had tried to take pictures of you before, eager to practice his new hobby, and you had politely reminded him that it would pose a risk to your attorney-client privilege (it was mostly a lie, but he didn’t need to know that). But now he lowered the camera, revealing a ghost of a smirk.

“I figured it’s ok since you’re not working. Just want to remember everything from my last race day.”

“We’re in the hallway of a hotel,” you deadpanned.

“You’re right, I’ll take better pictures when we’re outside.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Natural lighting is so much better anyways.” You sighed, reluctantly granting your approval and he internally cheered. You didn’t need to know there was no way in the world he would delete the ones he already took though, that perfectly captured the curve of your backside and your beautiful, bambi eyes looking over your shoulder.

He could’ve gotten lost in his thoughts of you and he would do so happily, but he needed to get in the zone. He tried, but surprisingly the feeling never came. He found he wasn’t really nervous either. After basically processing the five stages of grief over the last few months over his career, there was nothing left for him to prove or fight for. That thought once brought him deep shame, but now it was freeing. Maybe the weight of everything would hit him later, but for now he simply wanted to be in the moment wherever the day led him. At this particular moment, that meant walking to the paddock with you at his side.

Tags: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233 @thatchickwiththecamera

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berriweb · 11 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ FOR ME? ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. johnathan ohnn (the spot) x gn! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. attempted robbery (don’t steal atms kids), cursing

: ̗̀➛ note. i can’t resist writing for the silly little guy

Ring ring ring.

“Hey, Y/N, when you get a chance do you think you could look over some of the papers? If you’re not busy or anything.”

“Of course!”

Buzz. Buzz.

1 unread message. 1 new voicemail.

“You think you could be a dear and help out with my reports? I’m a little behind and you know how the boss can be…”

“It’s fine, I can help you.”

Ring ring ring.

2 new voicemails.

“Y/N, if you don’t mind-”

“Just leave it on my desk.”

“You’re the best!”

Between the insistent notifications going off on your phone and your coworkers/supervisors approaching you what seemed like every 5 minutes, it was nearly impossible to keep your head on long enough to get everything done.

After the aftermath of the whole disaster with Alchemax, your job seemed to become increasingly more difficult to manage on your own. Less people to help meant more work for you and less time to yourself, on top of the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to any employee that wanted to take advantage of your willingness to take on any assignment the other didn’t feel like finishing. Surely most of your team had caught onto that by now.

You were worked to the bone nearly every day, which was surprising enough considering you weren’t even on a high enough level to be working on any of the big projects, not to say your skills as a scientist were mediocre, but compared to other geniuses you weren’t much of a competition. Your job however, stressful as it was, was the only thing keeping you from ending up homeless on the street, so despite the exhaustion and anxiety-inducing environment, you pushed on. No need to add any more stress to the plate by trying to find someplace else to work.

And to top it all off, there was Johnny.

Letting out a breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding, you practically collapsed into your chair and wheeled yourself to your desk to drop all of the piles of unnecessarily complicated documents you’d need to get done. The moment you allowed yourself to get your shit together before you were back to working like a dog was likely the only chance you’d get to relax, so you took the opportunity to check your phone that had been consistently alerting you for the last 15 minutes.

7 missed calls from J 😘

5 unread messages from J 😘

2 voicemails from J 😘

Your face fell as you scrolled through your notifications bar, a mixture of guit and worry creeping up your neck.

Ever since the accident, you felt an extra need to be there for the man when he showed up late one night at your door, or rather halfway through it (damn those uncontrollable holes) crying that he had nowhere else to go. At least you assumed he would’ve been crying if he had a face to do so, but the tone of his voice was more than enough of an indicator. Prior to the incident, you two had a solid relationship going for years after meeting in the workplace, and to say that you were worried for him after hearing the news of what had happened while sitting at home waiting for him to return that night was an understatement.

He was gone for weeks, and just when you were starting to assume the worst he popped back up in your life in a completely new form. Your heart broke for him when he explained how everyone else had cast him out and how he’d been afraid to return to you out of fear that you’d do the same, and while you admit that seeing him like this took some getting used to, you weren’t going to abandon him too.

Ever since he’s mostly been hiding out in your apartment relying on you for all of his needs, as the few attempts to go out in public in a decent enough disguise didn’t go well, to say the least. You had noticed how he’d become far more reliant on you and clingy as a result, meaning multiple texts and calls a day whenever you were out of the house and he was left alone to his own devices. You tried to be as responsive as you could to avoid making him feel more alone (and because you knew he’d started to harbor some guilt for “leeching” off of you and being part of the reason you had to work more often and pay rent on your own), but sometimes your work duties got the better of you.

You opened the messages first.

J😘: Are you going to be working late again today? I want to plan something for you.

J😘: What do you think of the name, “The Spot”? That sounds menacing enough, right? I’m coming up with something big right now.

J😘: “Holeman” just doesn’t sound as cool, you know? I’ll work on it.

J😘: Sorry I know I’m texting a lot, are you busy?

J😘: I’m going out, might not be home when you make it.

That uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach only intensified, and while the messages themselves weren’t exactly that worrying, something was telling you he was up to no good. And where was he going?

Your thumbs hovered over the screen for what felt like forever before you went to tap on the unopened voicemails.

“Hey babe, I know this is kind of out of the blue but I know how hard you’ve been working at Alchemax for us and I want to do something to repay you for it- just a way to say thank you I guess? I know what you said about not feeling guilty and everything but I really want to do this for you, you know I can’t keep living off of you and staying cooped up in that apartment forever- n-not that I’m ungrateful or anything! You do a lot for us, you did a lot for me and I’ll never be able to repay you for showing me that kindness when nobody else would.”

“I really needed that and I really need you. You’re sort of the only one I really have left, can’t risk losing that by leeching off of you forever, y’know? A-anyway, I saw that figure you’ve been eyeing from those ads, the really expensive one from that series you like? There’s that one gas station around the corner I used to go to that has an ATM, please don’t be mad, technically it’s bank money anyway and the government has plenty so I’m not really stealing from the gas station! I’m testing out my powers today. I’m getting the money for your figure today to surprise you with it! Wait- shit, it’s not a surprise if I’m telling you- oh god I’m rambling again, is there a way to delete this voicemail?! Hold on, wait-” Click.

Staring at your screen, you were unable to process the different emotions running your brain. You clicked the second voicemail.

“P.S., I love you Y/N~. I’ll talk to you later.”

You were left trying to decide whether to find the nearest bathroom before your coworkers caught you crying at the heartfelt message, frown at the idea of him still feeling as though he owes you when he, in fact doesn’t, or panicking when you realize that your boyfriend was about to attempt to rob a gas station for your sake. You chose the latter.

Jumping out of your seat, you went into a frenzy grabbing as many of your important belongings as you could and shoving them into a bag before you made a beeline for the doors and rushed out of your office, ignoring the concerned call outs from your coworkers asking where you were going and wondering whether or not you were going to finish your work for the day.

Alchemax became the least of your concerns, sending your manager a quick text letting her know you were leaving early on the account of an emergency as you raced down the speed walking faster than you probably ever had in his life.

‘Had he already left? What was he thinking?!’

Now it was your turn to spam him with call after call, silently begging the universe to make him pick up but to no avail.

Suddenly your apartment seemed 10 times farther than it normally did during your walks home from work despite your rush, managing to bump into multiple people as you pushed your way through the crowds, which was met by curses shouted at you, complaints, and a few threats that you could only hope would be tamed by the quick apologies you shouted in return.

You were probably mid journey home when your run came to a screeching halt as the tv stationed outside of a pawn shop caught your news. Spider-Man’s latest fight was being broadcasting through the few clips reporters were able to catch during the escapade, showing the many damages left behind and from the chaotic battle, but it wasn’t the iconic vigilante that caught your attention, it was the headline.

“Spider-Man’s latest battle against a new foe, ‘The Spot’, causes city-wide destruction! Who is this new villain on the streets and what’s his motive?”

Your mind seemed to pull you back to just minutes earlier when you were sitting in the lab, reading his messages.

“What do you think of the name, ‘The Spot’? That sounds menacing enough, right?”

Not only was Johnathan an idiot for trying to rob a gas station, he was stupid enough to get caught by Spider-Man!

If not for your unconditional love your your boyfriend and knowledge that he was once a brilliant scientist, you would’ve questioned how you ended up with such a clumsy fool.

This was further confirmed when you returned to racing to your apartment, only for your attention to be grabbed as a familiar black hole opened up above the street and citizens gasped as they caught sight of Spider-Man falling through the hole, followed up by the current criminal, and your boyfriend. His lack of facial features would argue against it, but you could swear that you made eye contact as his head turned to you and the gaping black hole where his face should be met your eyes before both men disappeared into the parallel hole that opened on the ground and it closed behind them. If looks could kill, Johnathan would be far more than six feet under.

For what felt like an eternity you stood there, the shock being enough to paralyze you and leave you glued to the sidewalk. When you snapped back into it, your palm came up to your face and you groaned in frustration, but wasted no time groveling over the situation. There was no point in trying to get home now, instead trying to figure out his location by what was being shown on the news. That was pretty hard to do, however, when he couldn’t control where the fight kept popping up in the city.

It wasn’t until a few minutes and about 50 missed calls later when the dial tone finally ceased and he picked up the phone, long after the news station seemingly lost track of the fight. You almost forgot to speak before the realization set it and you deeply inhaled.

“…before you get mad-”

“JOHNATHAN OHMMS I SWEAR TO GOD if you had ANY idea how much I want to strangle you right now-!”

“I know I know, I’m sorry, look-!”

“A gas station? ARE YOU INSANE?! You know better than this! How could you be so reckless! What were you thinking?!”

“-I wasn’t planning on getting caught-”

“And fighting Spider-Man?! You could’ve gone to jail, you could’ve gotten hurt, or worse! What was I going to do then?!”

“I get it! I’m sorry, I swear! It was a bad idea I screwed up, I’ve never robbed anyone before-”

“I’d hope not!”

Taking a second, you lowered your voice and ducked into an empty looking alley so no one could hear your fussing, pinching the bridge of your nose and forcing yourself to calm down. Clearly he already knew he screwed up and the guilt in his voice made your heartache, you weren’t going to keep chastising him for something he regretted when he’d already suffered the consequences. Wait-

“Hold on, Johnny, where are you? And why do you sound so far from your phone?”

You heard a nervous chuckle from the other end of the line, where the portal that had his hand with his phone floated at least a good 10 feet from his face.

“Okay, funny story right? You’re going to laugh, I haven’t been arrested yet-” oh god. “But Spider-Man may have left me in a bit of a tight spot.”

You swore listening to Johnathan explain how he’d been webbed up in a multitude of his own holes thanks to the webbed hero and describing the building in hopes you’d help it out made you swear you’d grow grey hairs in that very moment, but you couldn’t focus on the absurdity when your main concern was getting your boyfriend back.

“-and now I’m sort of stuck and can touch my head with my right foot.”

“Johnny.”

“…yes, Y/N?”

“You’re very lucky I love you.”

He made a noise equivalent to a sigh that was mixed with relief and guilt.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again. We’ll talk later, I’m on my way.”

“This why I love you~”

#across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #the spot #the spot x reader #johnathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader #spot x reader #spiderman atsv #atsv fanfiction

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