#her to that bullshit ???????? let her live her life for the love of god | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yveaart · 3 months

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how to lose a guy in 10 days — csc

choi seungcheol x reader

genre : fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, jealousy (?), fake relationship, bets (yk how the movie goes), profanities

synopsis : you had to prove to your friends that you could easily make a guy lose interest within a week, having no interest in indulging yourself in a relationship after your past ones. all those relationships led you to narrow down a list on how to make a guy sick of you. you had all the card in your hands and seems like you don’t get to play it.

warnings : mdni, proceed with causion bc this is my first actual svt fic it might be shitty. not proofread lol, reminder that this is my take on the plot and it will not flow the exact same plots in the movie

i do not feel so confident about this bc i wrote this with mind in shambles. literally me comforting myself with svt while i'm dying from my studies rn :') pls tell me if you like it bc i would most def appreciate it <3

it was another slow day at work when you sat down at your desk and sighed. all your work mates and friends seems to confide in your reaction but your circle knew that this sigh wasn’t a “damn-im-so-stressed-and-sick-of-work-sigh” for them it was more of a “wow-life-is-hectic-its-almost-making-me-want-a-man”

and just like clockwork their brains clicked and hovered over your cubicle. poor u so startled that you almost gagged on your coffee.

“what?” you shooted

“are we gonna meet boyfriend number 13?” karina said in a sing song voice

“more like fling number 17?” sakura retorted

“maybe a first situationship since she haven’t experienced one yet” yunjin said curiously

“jesus christ i’ve had that much men and i’m not gay yet?” you said surprised

“maybe you just need a new set up?” yunjin asked

“like what doggy style?” karina questioned

“not like that you idiot” sakura glared

“maybe i’m just meant to end up in a church and dedicate my life to holiness” you huffed

“please you would burn the moment you step in a cathedral” sakura laughed

“well i just know how every relationships end, it’s almost like completing all endings for a video game, its predictable and cliche” you sighed

“let’s welcome fling number 17 then” karina announced

“i’m too tired for just fucks you know? it won’t take long before i actually get infection and i turn into a zombie and bite you all from all these stupid ideas” you rolled your eyes at your friends.

right now you just actually need to see if theres a guy out there in the world who could actually commit and actually accept a persons flaws out of love.

all too cheesy but you would like to find a partner who would find no flaws in you and probably just call them your little unique antiques that they can live with.

you were so sick on seeing tutorials or manifestation hacks on the internet because does anyone genuinely love each other anymore? all these “how to become a maneater”, “how to make them dream of you”, “how to make him fall in love using a potion” bullshit got you sick of people now.

why did god even create men to accompany themselves if they’re preferences and expectations are for the deities taste themselves.

“OH MY GOD I GOT IT!” yunjin screamed making all your peers look over to your area

“what is it?” you asked dying for a solution

“what if you meet a guy and just unfling him?” she said as if there was a light bulb above her head

“yall need to make her stop doing overtime” sakura deadpanned

“NOO, like you’re talking all these commitment things all the time then what if you find a random guy and make him not fall in love with you and see if he stays?” she said

“so like i should go out being an annoying red flag and see if he stays?” you giggle but it all went away when all your friends kind of agreed because they’re also sick of u having these guy problems already.

“i guess thats not all bad” karina suggests

“you should wear your best outfit tonight because we will find your lucky target then y/nnie” sakura winked at you before discussing the plans with yunjin and karina

it was not long until the night came as you got ready, you scoffed on how stupid this bet is because it’s like you claimed “very predictable and cliche” to lose a guy.

it was then your friends picked you up and pulled up to the bar. a few shots came by as you hustled through the crowd searching for your so called the one. but as you surf through the tables everyone fell short to your friends standards as if it was a big serious thing.

you grew tired, what was the point, you knew your fate then you should probably accept it now.

you drank your last shot for tonight planning your weekend with whole lots of tubs of ice cream until you flinched by karina grabbing your arm.

“him” she said, audible enough for the three of you to hear. you faced the guy she was referring to as all the noice fade into the background blur hearing yunjin screech and them clapping happily, your time froze.

the most goddamn, drop dead gorgeous man came to sight.

“isn’t that choi seungcheol?” sakura stating a rhetorical question

“they said no one could ever bag him up” yunjin replied

“ooh sounds like one of y/n’s guys” karina giggled.

“are you up for it then?” sakura challenged you

“please this will probably come by a breeze, so? 100 bucks each?” you winked as the three of them agrees after a total chaos.

“choi seungcheol, let the games begin” you muttered

on the other side of the bar there was a crowded group of 13 people who were mindlessly taking shot over shot as they were crowned as the most obnoxiously loud people for the night.

most of them spitting out tipsy thoughts to one another as they joined forces on pinning and choosing choi seungcheol as the victim for tonight.

“here comes the virgin joseph for tonight, choi seungcheol!” dk hooted while hoshi was giggling to any phrases the latter would make out

“isn’t it mary though?” joshua pondered drunkly on the edge of the couch munching on the nuts hoping it would make him sober as it was too early to go home.

“whatever, we still get the point. so what’s with the anti-women behavior cheol?” jeonghan grinned. his smile too wide to seem oblivious of the answer.

“i think dating is now deemed predictable to me,every woman i dated either wants my money, my body, fame, or a father figure” cheol sighed deeply

“wait you’re a dad?” dino’s brows furrowed in deep confusion as cheol stood there with utter disbelief

“i thought we we’re supposed to have a fun hangout today, and now all of you are just looking like alcoholics with all these bottles in our table” seungcheol complained

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING ALCOHOLICS?!” mingyu exclaimed looking at the opposite direction of where cheol was.

“FUCKER I DIDNT CALL YOU ANYTHING” minghao retorted to a confused mingyu facing him causing cheol to place a palm over his forehead.

“how about you start charming women for who you truly are?” vernon continuing the passed topic.

cheol didnt know if he was thankful for vernon re entering a topic, all the “seemingly” sober people joined up on the topic. they soon somehow convinced cheol to meet new people and try making them fall in love with him.

kkuma needed a mom, maybe he did too (but not in a maternal sense

“i doubt scoups can make a girl fall in love with him” dino giggled in the verge of passing out.

“i sure can ! it’s like a walk in the park” seungcheol defended.

“not even within a month” jeonghan added

“not even a week” jun stared blankly.

seungcheol always had placed his pride on a pedestal, it’s the source of his cocky behavior.

“oh please, give me 10 days it would be like she’s under a love spell” cheol snickered blanketing his bruised ego.

“deal, i bet 20 that we’ll have another meeting on the 10th day having cheol drop dead drunk at thus exact spot” jeonghan screamed only standing for the first time for the night.

it was chaos after that, but the group was almost divided equally in the process of them making bets and weighing the odds of cheol’s fate.

seungcheol wished the ground opened its jaws and buried him six feet under

even he was lying to himself with his statement, but one thing about choi seungcheol— he always wins.

“i’m gonna head home now” cheol said, he wish he didn’t.

he somehow wished that they were all too drunk to force him into the grave he dug himself. mercy will be the end of their bond, so as fate has written cheol’s fortune.

“i guess cheol is accepting his pussy title” jeonghan sighed

“i am not a pussy” cheol responded

“then i guess you’ll have to prove that” joshua sighed blankly at him

“let’s start by choosing the lucky girl who’s gonna take cheol’s v card”

“i’m not even a virgin” cheol rebutted with a frown, the liquor making him submit to his true emotions.

“please you barely lost it” dk laughed

“well i barely felt it….” cheol muttered

“let’s do her” dino pointed at the wall as he stood quickly stumbling with his head spinning

“who’s he pointing at? did he shave his eyes as well?” woozi said laughing

“shut up pink panty guy, i’m talking about the girl that has red hair and wearing a black dress” dino said laying on the floor

“ooh, she looks hot like seungcheol’s type” jun teased

if he didn’t spot your bright auburn hair he would’ve sworn to himself that these guys we’re just throwing a hate crime at him, but god, you we’re his type.

“go on mr. choi, show us your charm” mingyu pushing cheol closer to your area in the bar

you were planning on stepping up, but you had to make one thing sure, so you turned around to your friends with burgundy rushing through your cheeks with the thrill throwing you into your pit of endless thoughts.

“makeup, and outfit : perfect” yunjin started with a wide grin

“hair : gorgeous and can easily make a ponytail” karina winked as you glared at her

“teeth clean and ready for sucking” sakura smiled

jesus christ you were asking for a reality check and they just simply can’t avoid adding scandalous statements as if that’s all you do.

you were ready

were?

are?

was?

fuck.

you backed up quickly as you saw a guy charging at your direction ready to barf up on you.

quick arms catches your moving physique, as your back became dependent on the person unbeknownst to you.

two groups filled your senses with squeals, laughing and cheering waking you up from your not so cute dilemma

you turned to the person behind you seeing the man of the night

choi seungcheol.

“you okay, sweetheart?” his voiced hush, you felt warm and you swore that is was just the buzz from the liquor

quickly you went to work

“omg thankyou o-oppa” you’re voice cracked because you simply cannot believe the words that escaped your lips.

there was terror in his eyes, the moment you saw it, it went away. a pretty grin was graced upon your lips because this will be one hell of a ride

he better be sure to keep his seatbelts on because you’re gonna totally rock his world.

day 1 : the tortoise and the hare

spoiler, the hare never wins

guys hate being speedy, if they’re looking for a woman they can take home to his mom it would definitely not be the woman who wants to be dicked down after the first date.

and this wasn’t even a date

he took you to his place after your so called friends left the both of you in the landmine

he only intended you to sober up, and you only wanted him to curse you off his life. but it would be no fun if you just did it in a day, wouldn’t it?

the sound of the collision of class and marble led to both of your eyes to be met.

“thank you, really, or what else i would’ve smelled like vodka and whatever the fuck that person just ate” you sighed in relief genuinely

“no worries, you don’t smell like barf or vodka…. maybe a little of tequila but you’re good” he smiled

fuck. he’s hot and he knows it, a part of you wished that he was some sort of narcissist so you could do this thing in a easier way.

his face sculpted and graced with beauty his eyes filled with wisdom and maturity, his lips full and shaded like cherries.

you we’re definitely down to have a fling with him, but according to you, you were planning to change your ways and test the purpose and ability of men.

“mhm, i’m tired let’s watch a movie?” you smiled with your forced high-pitched voice

you love how he would hide the way his face would wince when you talk or the way his jaw slacked on your statement.

you smiled at the thought of him trying to take you out of his multi-million mansion because you were pushing boundaries he built for you

“yeah.. sure, what do you wanna watch?” he assisted you by the waist as he brought you up the stairs.

you wanted to get out, you wouldn’t think that it would go like this. fuck the boys manual maybe it doesn’t work with hot rich guys

“the notebook, i LOVE that movie” you smiled and you could see how he expected that

as you laid in his sheets, which you felt deeply sorry for actually staining his pearly and silky shits with your outside clothes, but your pride held you high. if you fell from your pride or for him then maybe then you could wash his sheets.

the room was dimly lit, the ambience warm as he intended.

he sat next to you, with distance for respect according to cheol’s brain.

you couldn’t predict him, and maybe he sends mix signals, and that made you feel less guilty because you concluded that he’s a womanizer. he knew all of these antics a little too well.

“it’s getting hot” you sighed fanning your face adjusting your dress to the right extent, you held your hair exposing your neck to him making sure he saw it.

"really? my ac is so low right now" he was surely acting oblivious.

you may be frustrated at him for not taking your hits but you guess it would make a good build up, meanwhile he was there dumbfounded from all the tricks you pulled, he was slowly getting hard but that's another story.

he was thinking if he should drop it, it seemed like you just wanted a one night stand, but speaking of the devil (angel) jeonghan sent him a text showing him how much money he would be getting if he proved them wrong.

somehow in the end all of his friends were convinced that he would stay bitchless. there was a whole chapter within their groupchat making fun of what he said earlier at the bar.

truth be told, he didn't give a fuck about the money, he wanted his dignity and pride back.

"my body is so warm because of all the shots i took though" you reasoned out quickly.

"well my body is really cool right now" he faced you slowly pulling you close but you had other plans

you quickly kissed him as if you were desperate for it.

"mmm- i think we should slow down y/n" he rushed to tell you.

you wanted to grin so bad, victory laid on your side, but you had to put a sad face asking him if he no longer likes you repeatedly as he escorted you out of his house.

you quickly twirled and skipped across the road when you were sure he was inside already. he was there though, watching through his window.

maybe he had to step up.

day 2 : the in-laws

there was not a single text on cheols phone the next morning, soon learning your phone was inside the purse you left at his house.

he wanted to scan your purse thinking of a way to sweep you off your feet today. but a gentleman doesn't mess with a ladies purse.

after the the long chat you had last night, you exchanged your details to each other which now led cheol to your apartment building with flowers and a wide smile.

"hi i got these for you-"

"wait cheollie, say hi to your mom !" you cut him off with a smile

his face quickly shifting, you what?! he was slowly shaking on the inside quickly settling down your purse, flowers on your coffee table.

"h-hi mommm" he grinned as if his mom could see him.

"seungcheol i didn't raise you to hide your partners from me like this, i really like y/n you know, so when's the wedding?" his mom ushered

"a wedding?" you gasped and started screeching as if it was real

"we'll see mom haha.." he replied deranged from the situation made just 2 minutes ago. he quickly hung up before his mom could get any more ideas.

"well that was interesting, i didn't know that you knew my mom" he restrained himself from losing himself.

"well i have to meet your parents anyways right, cheollie?" you smiled at him

"yeah, but we just met yesterday" he deadpanned

"well, you don't think we're gonna work out" you started sobbing in front of him making small obnoxious hiccups

"well that's not what i meant baby" he hushed and spent the afternoon babying you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

day 3 : monday flings

"i seriously cannot fathom how much patience he has to reach day 3" you genuinely lay your opinion

"i was a complete total psycho, but he must be mental" you said to yourself

"that's fucking crazy because if i had to put up with that you would never hear from me again" sakura said bluntly which bruised and praised you at the same time

"i need a break from my alter ego as well, i hope he has no plans on asking me on anything anymore at least"

the day went as if you had never met choi seungcheol at all, which made you relieved for at least having a rest day, sure it was such a short time but god how tiring it was to be somebody else

"i just really realized how to fit in somebody else's shoes" you sighed as you and your friends exited the building together ready to go home and simply pass out.

"then don't fucking wear them" karina said

"but this is the whole point, being a stereotypical woman in a relationship"

you all soon parted in your own ways as you walked through the neighborhood near yours, you realized you just walked passed by seungcheol's house and this made you walk a bit faster and try to fabricate your distinguishable looks. but guess what

"aw baby don't hide from me" he coos slowly pulling you in his embrace.

"i was just looking for you" he smiled as he rushed you into his home

you somehow wished he could just stab you right now.

he led you to his living room filled with rose petals and candles dedicating a whole playlist of his vinyl records for you. you spent the evening sharing his home cooked dinner, which was actually delicious. and he soon brought out his photo albums from when he was a kid.

"do you think our children look just like you?' your sentence made you freak out but you supressed it wanting him to be affected by your vicious visions.

"how about we go back about the marriage thing for now" he faked out a laugh.

"i want this to be our family's house too" you sighed in content while scanning the architectural structure.

"if that's what you want" he smiled and pecked your forehead, which had caught you by a surprise.

"it is" you smiled, you didn't want to admit it but something formed within you when he said that.

"i'll be having a boys night tomorrow so i might not respond quickly to your texts"

"is it strictly 'boys only' ?" you asked forming an idea and swallowing these funny feelings that have bloomed within you.

"well it had always been"

day 4 : poker night

if fate was inevitable, they should you hit you up then.

you were in a cab with your hands filled with cheol's place in mind.

"cheol having a 4 day record is worth celebrating" jeonghan teased

"it's been that long?" mingyu asked actually impressed

"i've been in a lot of relationships since college, stop making it seem like im a loser" he sighed

"probably just in college" minghao retorted

"it's probably going well, maybe next year she could meet his parents" seungkwan noted

"please, she met them the second day we met" cheol answered scoffing at the thought

"now i know why girls are driven away from you" jun cringed at cheol

"she called them herself the day we met, she even said that our children will live here, and she tried to sleep with me the first day we met !" cheol finally shared his experience the past few days

"ooh feisty and a woman with a plan, that's so horanghae coded" hoshi smiled reaching his palms out and curling the ends of her fingers.

"you're going delusional again hamster" minghao smacked the back of hoshi's head causing the latter to relieve it by rubbing his head.

"maybe cheol could get laid now with her bold behavior, someone who can tame mr. pride-over-pants-down-choi-seungcheol over here" joshua said

"she's just a bet-"

the violent reactions that flashed through the faces of his group-mainly cheol when you came in the door in the middle of the game.

the guys quickly recovered teasing cheol for being so attached already calling her over for a boys night.

"hi guys!!" you said excitingly trying on your best cute expression you could muster up while hoshi replied to you with the horanghae pose as you quickly reciprocated it.

"i just thought i could put some of my stuff here so you could always remember me cheollie" your eyes twitching the moment your face was parallel with the wall

cheol was in awe with the first few vases you put out, until there were at lest 13 in his living room only. his house looking like he was out there selling urns

you were going around his place disrupting them, even changing their ambient music into some of britney spear's playlist

and even making very concerning screams around the kitchen just behind the living room.

"cheollie, can you get me some water" you whined when you heard them telling cheol it was his turn

he caught you reaching out unto the cupboards for a glass, he quickly got you what you requested and leaving you there

you were quick to grab onto his arm and grab the cigarette out of his mouth.

"you need to stop smoking" you tell him genuinely, his demeanor sensing your honesty his brows rested as he gave you a smile.

"i need to keep my lungs healthy for our children huh?" he teased you with a knowing smile

day 5 : ghosting

after his game with the boys, you two spent so much time together after.

he was being sulky after receiving his first losing game last night from all your disruptions last night.

but he never mentioned you being a nuisance, and just maybe because it was stored somewhere deep his chest the frustrations he held

but you stayed clingy to him filling him up with your presence even when you already went home flooding his texts until it was dawn

today you decided to stay low, you were lying in wait in this part of the plan

by doing so much the past few days today you decided to give ghosting a shot

"god i just wanna die if i need to go through this just to find a decent human being" you sighed frustrated at yourself

you wish you could stop now, there was 150 bucks on the line

or this is what you thought that hindered from you from stopping, you stared longingly on your laptop

quickly dialing his number you grinned at the sound of his voice

day 6 : a large iced diet coke and a kiss to go

today you planned on watching a knicks game with cheol, it was both your favorite thing to watch.

the stadium filled with cheers as you were shaking with thrill watching the tight game among your favorite team handling each other by the neck

most of the game went well according to cheol

during the break the venue managers continued to do the kiss cam.

you were interested looking at random people sharing affection through this stupid camera. but you didn't know it would face you.

you saw your face light up with surprise as the other guy next to you exposed on the kiss cam

you were looking at him

"i'm-" the guy was cut off when seungcheol grabbed you by the nape sealing your lips with his plush ones, the camera then panning to the both of you instead of you and the other guy.

"you weren't in the kiss cam" you said smiling- wait no don't.

"well i was just now" he said cockily

"i'm not gonna let you kiss him when i'm here" he said and that lit a fire within you

the final part of the game resumed as you both were cheering wildly through the crowds

it was time.

you asked cheol to bring you coke since you were extremely famished according to your words.

cheol quickly glanced at you, the bottom of the stadium, on the scoreboard, and back to your eyes.

he quickly ran getting you the drink that you wanted.

"i cant drink too much sugar though i need the diet one" his face turning into a distressed one jogging back up the long steep flights of stairs as he huffed to the vendor that you wanted the coke one, being only available to watch the game through the small monitor by the ceiling

there was about 3 minutes left, your team still having time to win over

he rushed back to you quickly handing you your coke, but there was another thing-

"i need ice cheollie" you whined at him, he groaned but still went over to do it

only a few moments left before the game ends the vendor still working on you precious drink, seungcheol staring at the monitor.

you felt bad, like actually. but you had to keep this up

you were enjoying the game until you were drowned in your thoughts on how you were ever gonna ask for his forgiveness after all this

you were a bitch and get over your act.

the crowd calling out through your ears realizing your favored team won, you had to force a smile especially a lovely one at cheol to make him think you were being a menace

maybe if you pushed him enough you could end this sooner, you can't admit that he was charming, handsome, and his behavior is no less than how a gentleman should act.

sorry coups.

the game ended, you were exiting the venue with cheol as his arm around your shoulder quickly calling you a cab home.

"thank you for this babe" you smiled passing him the cup, hoping you were rude enough for him to not call you up anymore

"no problem, you gave me your other ticket to watch with you anyway" he smiled pecking you before you left.

he crumpled the cup and threw it away.

day 7 : the revelation

you and cheol spent this day with a quick breakfast by the small cafe nearby, chatting through the busy streets of your city, he asked you to come to his event tomorrow which you accepted. after breakfast there were barely any interactions coming between the two of you.

why stay through this conditions?

well we bring you to the day 1

you were troubled writing your new article on the magazine company you were working for.

your boss expecting so much from you, you simply cannot write anything too political or anything controversial at all, so you stuck on to writing these stupid "how to" to articles which was a huge success for your company.

you were stuck, nothing to write, drafts filled with calling out peace for all countries experiencing genocide and territorial invasions or calling out to politicians who were legitimately caught only on scandalous events but never the seat of any meetings.

you were a writer a "how to girl", you swore you did it all and wrote them, how to talk your way out of a ticket, how to feng shui your apartment and even having those little tests you wrote printed by the magazine.

seungcheol was a lawyer, he stayed in his grandfathers law firm, his grandfather desperate for him to get wed and have a family who will take care of the firm and would take care of him as well.

seungcheol's grandfather knew his luck in love, so he prayed that even when he passes, his grandson will still have someone to be with.

day 8 : pride over love

cheol came over to your place at dusk seeing you with your flattering yellow dress with a backless cut on the back.

he was stunned by your beauty, his hand leading to his chest.

"my god" he whispered to himself as he paced closer to you

"you're gorgeous" he smiled as he kissed your temple

"you don't look to bad yourself" you grinned at him

you decided to stay in your apartment for a while as you settled a few of your stuff before you leave

he glanced over your record player and fidget over your albums then he finally sat down digesting the whole essence of your place, it was hard for him to stay still thinking that you were some dumb bet but he knew you were more than that, he knew you we're attractive but the breeze tonight was only revealing your true selves to each other.

you came in the room with your purse settling it by the coffee table as your favorite song came by, you couldn't help but singing along to it

and other girls dreamed that they'd be cheol's partner

they'd be cheol's partner and

you're so vain

you probably think this song is about you

and then you both exploded in to giggles proceeding to do silly dances before heading out.

you both arrive at an immaculately decorated building, you could already hear all the people chattering inside the building making a light buzz on your ears

"cheol, you should come meet our new stockholder" his coworker ushered him as he looked at you with slight worry

"i'll be fine you should go" you pushed him lightly and he just nodded at you making a phone call sign telling u to call him if anything happens

it was a while when you were just sitting by the bar drinking your nth drink for the night, it wasn't your intention to do so, but that was the only thing that can occupy you. you didn't want to bother cheol on his night so you stayed lowkey.

you weren't drunk but you rethink because you didn't know why seungcheol's grandfather ushering you to talk to him.

"so i heard that you have been seeing my grandson" he started

"oh yeah i am" you politely answered, guilt wrapping you up when you realized that you were only feigning everything.

"i'm glad that he told me about a girl he goes out with, he barely tells me anymore because they don't last long" he giggled

"oh really? i would expect him to be married by now actually" you joked with him

you felt comfortable around him, his friends, his relatives, and even his co workers, they really provided you with a nice environment.

"i'm happy that you stayed with him even after knowing that you just started as a bet-"

"excuse me?" you were violated.

"i mean please excuse me i need to get some fresh air"

there was regret in mr.choi's face but it also held worry, was it true? you were a bet? what did he win for you? for this? what did he mean that you started as a bet?

you were furious, you knew you were also doing him wrong, but you felt bad for all of it.

it wasn't helping that you had to admit to yourself that you did like him. even through the fucked up situations you had this week, it was all messed up, fake.

but even in all that chaos, he was consistent, he was there.

now you're doubting if that was his acting as well

because now you were burning everywhere, because you knew you crossed the fine line along the feigned adoration over real devotion.

you adore choi seungcheol.

but now that meant nothing.

quick and heavy foot steps were heard behind you

"y/n!" cheol managed out with huffed breaths

you faced him with disdain painting your face.

“wow, you’re gonna run away after you defy me?” he laughed sarcastically, his face sullen his eyes filled with fury

“defy you? what about you making me a bet?” it dawned on him realizing that you knew about his faults too.

it was true, you did defy him, not that it was your choice, you had to do it for your job, you wrote about him, one of your how-to blog and magazine experiments.

how to lose a guy in 10 days

this was your last project being a part of this magazine line. you swore you couldn’t keep on using people for an article, you planned on being a journalist after quitting, after making him your last.

because after all, you love him.

your article could also be called “how to stupidly fall in love and find a man in 10 days”

“it was a bet at first, then i fell, but you just played me” he looked at you as if you just stabbed him straight to the chest

“what?” you said confused

“leave. i don’t ever wanna see you anymore” he warned

“didn’t know you could stoop so low, and don’t worry i will”

“how to lose a guy in 10 days huh?” he started “lucky you y/n because you just lost him” he uttered walking away.

the night turned completely upside down, both of your chests swelled with guilt, shame and anger.

your heart dropped, but you just swallowed you pride and left.

day 9 : drive me out of town

quickly packing your things to leave, you won’t do any good here now that everything is tainted by the man you met just a little more than a week ago.

you spent your whole day just wallowing the sadness from your love life leaving your friends, your apartment.

you published that article about choi seungcheol to have income before you left your low life and start as a struggling journalist to do what you always wanted, to write about more important things

conventional, innovative, a cry of the oppressed.

but people seemed to worry if blondes were more fun than brunettes.

you truly regret using him, but you both did the wrong things to the write people, only fate knew that.

you rode your cab ready to leave this damned city to move to another identical one.

the familiar streets slowly blurred into the abyss of the distance as you called your friends and relatives one by one just catching up and telling them little life updates.

you were sad, but you knew that seungcheol is probably feeling a lot more than you were.

the darkness of the sky basked you a sense of comfort, there’s always a new day.

you wished him peace.

it was a fault writing about him and confessing about you felt at the same time, but he deserved the last bit if honesty left to your fake situationship.

a raging motorcycle suddenly honks at your vehicle endlessly. your cab giving way but it seemed like it wasn’t what the motor rider meant

“OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP” you told the cab driver when you realized it was cheol’s bike.

was he planning to run you over?

you got out displaying yourself in front of the man you loved.

“y/n, it was all true” he said taking his helmet off he huffed tiredly but not slowing down his pace to get close to you

“what are you saying?”

“i liked you that’s why i agreed with the bet, hoping you would like me back, even though your personality was hard to work with” he laughed to himself

“why are you saying this? why now?”

“maybe i flipped the page too quick not seeing that you loved me as well”

“love”

“what?”

“i still love you” you whispered

“you won your bet a little too well mr.choi seungcheol”

“i love you too, and i don’t care if you pull your annoying your girl antics i still love you”

“that wasn’t me” you laughed

“well there was a part of you who did it, and i love all of you” he smiled showing his gummy grin.

you couldn’t help but feel free, you weren’t stuck in that annoying girl’s body forcing the guy you love to hate you.

“kiss me, cheol” you teared up

he didn’t need to be told twice as he rushed to close the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing to yours savoring every inch of it. your head shifting in sync as you both connected not wanting to let go.

today’s day 1. the first day of making it real.

day 10 : my heart, it lies within yours.

passed 12 am

i guess you did actually lose your bet now with your friends. at day 10 choi seungcheol was plush against your skin his lips in yours, and your hands in his hair.

“i hate that you have me wrapped around your finger” he groaned onto your lips

“i hate that you actually won your stupid bet” you sighed

“i always win, and this feels so much better than winning” he said lifting you

your bags left on the floor the moment you reached his home, he told you to call it yours as well, from now on.

your silence didn’t last long when the both of you were longing for each other leading you up to this moment.

“hm so cocky huh?” you teased him as you started kissing down on his neck as he laid you on his bed.

you pulled down on his tie realizing he was so busy at work all day.

you kissed him once more and switching the positions that you were previously on as you climbed onto his lap and continued making out

your hands wandering on his hair and his hands on your ass.

your tongue interacting as he let you do whatever you want, his hands started wandering on your body leaving your skin burning for more.

your kiss being more needy as you started to grind on his hard on. he groaned onto your lips leaving you to grind harder.

you started to unbutton his clothes as he followed suit, removing yours as well.

he was pulling on his tie

“no” you stopped him

“keep it on love” you commanded

he could throw you and turn this around, but he didn’t. he enjoyed this a little too much, loving the feeling of being taken care of.

you both were left on your under garments except him having his tie on

he looked so hot having his tie rest on his smooth and hard muscles, his abs and pecs shining from the moonlight.

you continued grinding on him until he held your hips to stop.

“let me have you first please” he sighed as he laid you down on the bed as he knelt on the ground facing your crotch.

he looked at you as if he was asking if he could remove it and you nodded back at him.

his blonde hair a bit messy as you caressed it and tugging while he was removing your underwear

his face getting closer to your heat as he started kissing on your thighs slowly.

his lips then met with your clit as he sucked slowly then proceeding to lap on your entrance already making it soaking than it already was.

his tongue bending slightly when met with the entrance teasing it and slowly stretching it.

his right hand caressing around your waist as the left one kept it on your thigh refraining it from moving.

his fingers slowly worked his mouth as he slowly dipped one into your hole.

his finger was thick, 2 of your fingers were your frequently used ones, but his reached so much deeper, felt so fuller.

he hummed against your clit as vibrations flooded through your veins. he added another finger making you writhe and pull on his hair more.

you pulled him up kissing his plump lips before making him lay down on the bed.

you held his hands as you put it above his head, you weren’t intending to restrain them at all.

his biceps protruding so well when you raised it keeping it there as you licked and sucked on his neck slowly removing his boxers.

you wanted to cum with him tonight.

his eyes went dark seeing his large dick lining up to your entrance, he wanted you to ride him, he wanted to stare at your beautiful body while you felt pleasure because of him.

"no condom?" he asked heavily, he wanted it, he wanted this, but he also wants to make sure that you're doing what you desire, not wanting to make regrets again.

"i don't care, fill me up, make me pregnant" you said in a daze, but even without the lust you had right now, you still would say yes.

"fuck" he groaned hearing your words

his length standing tall, he was already so girthy, his tip leaking red.

he wanted to feel pleasure with you, not just sitting there like some fuck doll.

you lined the tip with your entrance as you slowly sunk down already feeling an enormous stretch.

"god your cock is so big" you moaned as you rested your head by his neck sucking there to distract yourself from the slight pain.

his hands went down to your waist as he pushed you further, taking him all in.

he was sent to paradise with your walls crashing to his length, engulfing it in its warmth

"your pussy was made just for me, love" he groaned as his hands guided your waist to ride him.

you were releasing moans as you rode him, it's as if he was still getting bigger inside you.

you then leaned back to your position staring at him with his tie, he looked so hot with his abs clenching every time you squeeze his dick, and how his sweat made it look like he was glowing.

he was laying back with the most drunk in lust face he got as he bit his lower lip just staring at you bouncing at him.

every curve of him filled you even more hitting the right spots that led you to your high in a few more moments.

you both released at the same time, but cheol was far from over with you

he flipped you around entering you in a missionary position, he was truly strong as he pumped himself in you with a new found energy hitting even deeper than before.

he caressed the bump his dick made deep on your stomach.

he made a guttural moan just by the thought of you being able to carry his children by the very belly he's fucking oblivion to.

you pulled onto his tie causing it to tighten a bit that he moaned. you kissed him sloppily as your saliva mixed and dripped to the side of your chin.

he went down leaving marks on your delicate skin, already having red marks on your neck, he made sure to give your tits some love.

he sucked onto your left one and massaged the one on your right, continuously flicking it. his other hand made its way to massage your clit, which made your back arch and scream his name.

"fuck seungcheol" you moaned

"seungcheol? i thought you called me cheollie" he smiled at you with a shit eating grin

you could barely even give a response, you were simply brain dead from all the pleasure you had.

his pace going faster and faster as massaged your clit to a higher intensity, you both were sent over the edge for the second time tonight.

he slowly removed his length, as your hole felt the emptiness you groaned. your mixed arousal slipping out of your pussy as cheol just stared at it.

he inserted two fingers fucking the cum back into her, you moaned at overstimulation, he continued fucking you with his fingers.

"aren't you doing too much mr. choi?" you glared at seungcheol.

"gonna make sure you keep all of it" he said as she shakes his head giggling.

you pulled him down onto the bed as you sat up stuffing your underwear in his mouth making him moan out loud.

"your turn?" you grinned.

i felt like i could do better :") im sorry if this is bad.

taglist <3

@luchiet @sebongmochi @yawnseu @christinewithluv @musingsofananxiouspotato @raggedypansexual @90s-belladonna @nerdycheol @xcynthiaaa @inexistent-bluemind @jenoxygen @i-dont-give-a-fok @nmosyne @sleepzyy @justanarchiveforfics @springdaybreaks @k07-1313 @dunixxd

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cdragons · 3 months

Text

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

Please comment and/or reblog your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

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flynnriderishot · 3 months

Note

sometimes I forget to take care of myself properly 😭- can I have a fic about random things vinnie does to take care of the reader

without you - v.h

a/n: this is literally me to a T lmao 😭 my sister stays having to remind me to eat because i genuinely just forget. this is really short but i hope you enjoy :) (it’s only two examples but lmk if you want more!)

you tended to forget that you were human and needed to do basic human things to survive. it wasn’t on purpose, you just genuinely forgot to do simple things that anyone else would consider routine.

if it wasn’t for your boyfriend, vinnie, there was no telling if you’d live the next couple months of your life.

vinnie didn’t mind reminding you of the things you needed to do, it made him feel appreciated in your relationship.

which is why when he walked into your shared bathroom after being gone at the gym, a smile formed on his face as he asked you a simple question,

“did you eat breakfast?”

you froze, eyes wide as the toothbrush in your mouth stilled.

“oh-“

“babe…”

your words were muffled due to the toothpaste in your mouth, but vinnie heard them clearly, “i forgot.”

“i figured.” he nodded with a soft chuckle, pushing himself off the wall, “what do you want?”

you shrugged, “doesn’t matter.”

vinnie knew that answer was bullshit.

you’ve been together long enough for him to understand that ‘doesn’t matter’ means something completely different.

based on your mood when he left you earlier this morning, you wouldn’t want something too big.

“fruit it is.” he nodded, exiting the bathroom to retrieve your meal.

“thank you! i love you!” you called as he left.

“i love you more, you’re welcome!”

•••

you were sat on the couch, hera sleeping in your lap as you watched a movie. you sniffled as you adjusted your position a bit.

“baby?”

you perked up at the sound of vinnie’s voice, turning in the direction it came from.

“yes?”

“can you come here, please?”

hera too seemed to jump up at the sound of her fathers voice, quickly hopping off your lap to follow you to the kitchen.

“yeah?” you spoke to his back as he seemed to be focused on something on the counter in front of him.

“take this.” he turned to you, a cap full of nyquil in his hand.

you furrowed your brows in both confusion and disgust. you weren’t a fan of nyquil at all, “why?”

“you have a cough, babe. it’s been keeping you up at night.” he stepped forward to press a hand to your forehead, “and you’re warm. my god.”

your eyes soften at his worry.

“vin…”

“and your voice is scratchy.” he shook his head jokingly, “we need to get you some tea or something.”

“are you aware of how much i love you?”

much to his frustration, you put the cap of medicine on the counter rather than taking it immediately.

“i’m aware and i love you as well.” he leant down to press a kiss to your head, “what would make me love you more is if you took that medicine so you could feel better.”

you quickly took the nyquil, scrunching up your face at the unsatisfying taste.

“what would i do without you, vin?”

“not take proper care of yourself, apparently.” he scoffed playfully, watching as you bent down to cradle hera in your arms. “let’s go cuddle to help you feel better, yeah?”

“i feel like maybe ice cream would—“

he cut you off as he grabbed your waist and lifted you up, careful not to possibly hurt hera in the process.

his heart fluttered as he spoke over the sound of your laughter, “ice cream is no good for the sick. but i love you enough to order your favorite food for dinner.”

you smiled brightly, “i’ll take it.”

#sturniolo triplets #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker x reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 5 months

Text

A Baby for Christmas

Hi guys ♥

This is a new style I'm trying so I hope you will like it. Please let me know what you think about it! It was very long to write so I'm really sorry if you still find mistakes in it.

Summary : How your baby comes in your life. (Worst summary ever)

Part 2 is here!

TW : Mention of miscarriage, pregnancy.

______________________________________________________________

December

When Leah looked you in the eye while you innocently drank your coke and said "I want a baby" the shock was such that you spit out your drink. I mean, of course you know perfectly well that the blonde has a desire to create a family, you both talked about it pretty early in your relationship. But you didn’t expect her to throw you this information while you are lying on your couch, dressed only in one of her t-shirts too big for you after activities not necessarily adapted to any public.

By the time you managed not to choke, the blonde had added "With you" which made you bow both eyebrows at the same time.

"Thank God" you answered, dropping your soda can on your coffee table.

Leah laughed and grabbed a tissue to wipe your chin, while taking again.

"I think we have everything we need to welcome a baby properly, don’t you think? We have a house, we both make a good living, and I know you’re the love of my life."

After confirming that she were yours (your two-year marriage could have been proof of that alone), you contacted clinics and took the first steps to the path of motherhood.

You had hoped that the test carried out a few days before Christmas would be positive, but that wasn't the case. Even if Leah hugged you tightly, saying you that's it's ok and you will try again, you can't drive away your melancholy.

The following days, you were eternally grateful for Leah’s efforts to change your mind, going out to different Christmas markets or offering different Christmas activities. She knows how much you love this holiday. And you have to admit that it worked and you probably fell in love with her again.

January

"This is bullshit" you complain suddenly, driving Leah's attention on you.

"Ok. But which one are you talking about?"

Leah's answer made you smile and rolling your eyes. You were walking in Hyde Park hand in hand, taking advantage of illuminations that have not yet been removed. In the early afternoon, many families still enjoy the ice rink and the various activities offered by Winter Wonderland. It's the last day of opening and many people seem to still want to enjoy it.

"Genetics"

All you have to do is take a look at Leah to see that she’s completely lost by what you’re saying. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t fully realize that Leah’s were thousands years away from yours.

"Care to explain?" asks the blonde, frowning.

You sighed and stop walking, without letting Leah's hand go.

"I want our baby to look like you. Not me."

Leah’s smile is tinged with a hint of sadness. It's obvious that your child will not be able to have your both features and you find this completely unfair. Aside from the fact that he would just be perfect, when you imagined having kids with Leah, you always imagined them looking like her.

"It’s sad and cute at the same time" Leah comments, releasing your hand to put her arm around your waist.

You pout and sigh softly, letting yourself go against her. You’re not a professional sportsman and Leah is going to make her big comeback on the football fields in two weeks. It made sense that you were carrying your child for both of us.

"There is a way to make it possible. To make him look like you" you add, once again crossing her questioning gaze.

"Babygirl I love you but I swear if you prepare to mention my brother in any way…"

"Ew no, what the hell?"

You frown with cringe while looking at her. She shrug and bite her lip before answering to you.

"Well one of the gynecologists we visited mentioned me the idea, but I’m glad to hear you don’t like it"

"I mean Jacob is cute because he looks like you, but not in this way"

Leah has a satisfied and superior smile that makes you laugh softly and you note in a corner of your head to ask her the name of the gynecologist to go and stick an one star in her Google reviews. But you’d rather go back to the present.

"So, what I was saying before you try Lannister-ed us (Leah rolls her eyes) is that I saw on the Internet that there is another possibility. I can take one of your eggs and take care of the pregnancy. But in the end it will look like you."

"Just to be sure" Leah says with her special accent "You want to take one egg from me (she put her index on her) to put it here (she put her index on your belly) and make the baby grow so he looks like me (she put herself again)?"

"Yes?"

"I like this idea a little to much" Leah smirks.

February

You’ve always hated needles since you were little. Vaccines have always been your hell on earth and despite all the persuasion of your mother, you have never been able to donate your blood. Fortunately, you have never had an operation, otherwise you sincerely don't know how you would have done. When you told Leah about this little detail, she thought you were exaggerating and laughed. But that was before you had to have an injection every night for the goods of your treatment and that possibly you could have a baby in a few months.

"Baby, it’s time!"

You look up from the television to see your wife leaning against a piece of furniture in your living room, a mischievous smile on her face and a syringe in her hands.

"Oh no" you whine

"Oh yes."

Without giving Leah time to react, you jump off the couch and run into the bedroom. That doesn’t stop you from hearing your wife’s voice sigh.

"Seriously?"

You’ve only been on this treatment for a few days, but every day is worse than the last. Leah is doing her best and she is particularly sweet and delicate, but your belly is covered with bruises and it has clearly become your most hated moment of the day.

"Y/N I swear to god!" makes Leah when she realise that you hide yourself in the cupboard. Again.

"Leave me alone you creep"

But Leah doesn’t listen to you and opens the closet door on the fly. You try to escape, but it was not counting Leah’s sporting reflexes that tackle you on your bed. Sitting on your legs, she knows you have no chance to escape.

"Baby please, can we talk about this?"

"Stop acting" Leah laughs softly as she lifts your shirt.

Knowing that you cannot escape it any longer, you close your eyes and take a great aspiration.

"Finished"

You open your eyes to see the satisfied face of Leah, who in the meantime put the needle on her bedside table.

"I have to admit you’re getting better and better at it" you whisper reluctantly.

In truth, you didn’t even feel anything. But you quickly spot the glow that shines in Leah’s eyes when she looks at you.

"I must admit that I particularly like this position" she whispers as she leans over you, putting her lips on yours.

March

"I think I’ll throw up" you nervously say.

"Actually, I think you were supposed to pee on it" your wife objects with sarcasm.

Despite yourself you let go of a nervous little laugh, rising from the edge of the bathtub on which you had settled. Today is the famous day of the pregnancy test and you are so stressed that you wonder if you will fall out, vomit or simply end up rolled into a ball on the floor of your bathroom.

"5 minutes" Leah grumbles after a few seconds, looking at the timer on her phone. "Who makes these tests?"

"Certainly people who love neither women nor children"

It’s Leah’s turn to giggle a little, but the tension is still there. To pass the time, you sing from memory Good Caroline in your head several times, until the timer rings in the room. Leah jumps so much that she drops her phone on the ground.

You exchange a look and you talk first.

"You’re watching. I don’t have the courage."

Leah sighs softly but gets up from the toilet bowl, nervously approaching the two tests you've done. You preferred to be sure of the result so as not to have false hopes, just in case. With trembling hands, Leah takes a deep breath before taking both tests in her hands. Her nervous face becomes unreadable and you will certainly die of stress in a few seconds.

"So what? Lee?"

After a few seconds, Leah puts her attention back on you, her gaze still unfathomable.

"My Love, I swear…" you begin, ready to threaten her if she remains silent one more second.

"Positive."

"What?"

She seems so incredulous that you think you misunderstood. But a big smile appears on her face and she jumps into your arms.

"Positive! We will be Parents!"

April

Lying in your bed, Leah is scrolling on her phone while you have opted for a more traditional way of doing things, using a book. You’ve been thinking about a name for a few weeks without really finding your happiness. Despite the fact that you still go the time, you fear that you arrive at the birth before making a choice. Not wanting to know if the baby is a girl or a boy complicates your task, but it's time to assume this choice until the end.

"What do you think of Alistair?" you ask while raising the nose of your book.

"Of course, if you want him to be able to join the royal family later, it will be perfect" mocks Leah and you roll your eyes.

"I know!" exclaims your blonde seconds later with a victorious smile. "William!"

"William Williamson? Really?"

"Well, yes!"

Your sarcastic tone and arched eyebrow seem to amuse Leah more than reason since she laughs, proud of her discovery. And seeing her happy face, you can’t help but smile softly.

"Harry?" you suggest, a few minutes later.

"No."

Leah’s clear and almost cold answer surprises you and you raise your nose from your book to look at her. Her eyebrows are raised and you don’t understand why. Does she have a hatred you didn’t know about Harry Potter?

"Why?"

"Because Harry Kane and there's no fucking way that my son is named after a Tottenham player."

Leah threatens you with her finger and you hold back with a smile, realizing that the subject is burning for your wife.

"Oh man…" you whisper softly as you resume your reading.

Some time passes and the silence settles, interrupted only by the rain that strikes against the windows of your house. You take advantage of this silence to snuggle up against Leah and you smile as you feel her cheek pressed against the top of your skull.

"Magnus?" you suggest after a few minutes.

Leah raises her head and thinks a few seconds before nodding.

"I like it. You can add it to the list."

With a satisfied smile, you add Magnus to Cameron’s suite after taking the time to trace William. The innocent look that Leah takes when you look at her while doing it amuses you and you rest your pen.

"We’re only looking for a boy’s name, but what if it’s a girl?"

Looking up at you, Leah puts her phone on her thigh and you see her hesitant to speak again. The way she sways slightly on the mattress makes you think about what she does when she stands up and has to tell you something. Fortunately, this was never a serious confession.

"Well… there’s a name I like, since I was a teenager"

"Okay?"

"I’m afraid you don’t like her"

You smile softly, passing your legs over hers. Your curiosity is driven by the fact that Leah doesn’t seem to want to tell you. Taking her hand in yours, you intertwine your fingers and look into her eyes.

"Come on Leah, just tell me" you whines.

"Charlie?"

"Charlie Williamson" you try the first and last name several times on your tong, under the inquisitive eye of Leah, before giving her a big smile. "I really like it."

May

"I'm scared" you mumble against Leah's neck, where you're hiding your face.

You both were in the gynaecologist’s office that follows you during your pregnancy. This is the first ultrasound you will have for your baby. After taking a blood test after a month of pregnancy and confirming that you were pregnant, you considered it unnecessary to specify that you did a test almost every other day. This all sounds almost too good to be true. You feel like something terrible is going to happen to you.

"I’m sure it’s going to be all right" Leah replies with her deep, calm voice, kissing the top of your head.

In truth, she is at least as stressed as you and doesn't pay any attention to the magazine she's reading. She is also the first to get up when you are called, even if she gently reaches out to you to help you do the same.

The gynecologist asks you about your state of health, but you rather want to shake her so that she hurries to put you on the observation table. You want, need, to know that everything is fine.

After a few minutes it is finally the case and you find yourself nervously attached to Leah’s hand.

"We may not hear the heartbeat well, since the fetus is still small" it informs you, which does not help your stress to decrease.

You answer nothing, focused on the images that scroll on the screen in front of you. You look at Leah when she explains to both of you where the baby is, which you would have been unable to see on your own. These white spots are inexplicable to you. But your wife’s wet eyes are enough to make you smile.

"Come on, let’s try to listen to his heart now."

You swallow and close your eyes, expecting to hear a very slight sound after the doctor’s explanations. But it’s actually a fast and loud drumming that sounds in the room, making you quickly open your eyes. The sensations you feel when hearing this melody are indescribable and you only realize that you are crying when Leah gently wipes your tears with her thumb.

"It looks like this baby is in great shape. Congratulations. I’ll let you get dressed and we’ll make an appointment for the next check."

You nod and can’t get your eyes off the frozen screen where the proof is that this baby really exists.

"We’re gonna be parents."

Leah’s sentence, the same one she uttered when discovering the positive tests, seems more like an achievement this time. But you understand her feeling. It seems to be much more real.

"You’re not gonna knock out, are you?"

The look lost in Leah’s gaze becomes clear again when it lands on you and you address her a mocking smile.

"Of course not. Kiss me rather than tell nonsense."

Smiling again, you stand up and put your arms around her neck to kiss her tenderly. You let go of her when she kisses your cheek and neck, enjoying the moment. You’re going to be parents. And most importantly, your baby is healthy.

June

The good weather being back, it's with a little more motivation that you go to Leah's football matches. Even if you haven’t missed one in or around London, not having to cover yourself with layers of clothing is nice. Summer is coming and the end of the season too. Arsenal is pretty well placed in the standings, but it's a FA Cup's match that is being played today. And not just any since it’s the final and Arsenal is playing against Chelsea.

You find yourself in the ranks of families and friends, surrounded by the Williamsons and other family members of different players. The friends are also present since Ella Toone is also part of the ranks, just like Mary Earps and other international players that you have already met several times thanks to Leah.

You're wearing a jersey with Williamson print on your back, Leah's Arsenal cap and you bought yourself a scarf at the booth, which you put on your shoulders. The proud look your wife gave you when she saw you was worth it.

The match is tight and it's with a blank score that the half is whistled. Leah looks for you and addresses you a smirk before entering the tunnel to return to the changing rooms, which you answer obviously.

"Would you like something to drink, darling?" asks your mother-in-law affectionately and you think for a few moments.

Quench your thirst and know that you will run to the toilet a few minutes later and definitely miss part of the game? Or wait for a few more minutes? You end up opting for the second option and given the following of events, you are quite right. If you’d missed that moment, you’d probably have found yourself with a divorce paper under your nose.

60th minute, a corner for Arsenal is played right in the box. The ball is taken from the head by Alessia but ends on the crossbar. However, it’s not over since Lia managed to intercept it and pass it back to Leah who sends a cannon ball to the bottom of the nets.

You expected Leah to rush to her teammates to celebrate, but instead you see her positioning her arms as if she was carrying an imaginary baby and she started rocking it. There’s a big smile on your face when you realize what she’s doing. You haven’t made your pregnancy public yet, fearing you’ll have to announce bad news if things go wrong. It must also be said that the fact that you are not famous and that your belly grew during the winter allowed you not to have too much effort to put in place for this.

Playful smiles on their faces, Leah’s teammates finally reach her height to congratulate her for this goal. These hugs finished, Leah looks for you again among the crowd and you send her a kiss with your hand.

Thirty minutes later, the referee’s whistle rang through the stadium, sealing Arsenal’s victory. You find yourself jumping on the spot with excitement too, cuddling all the people you can reach. You know how important this game was for Leah, who wants to get back to her old level as soon as possible.

It’s only after the cup has been lifted by the whole team that Leah makes her way to you, but you’re happy to see her enjoying these moments with her friends. You smile when you see her running towards you and get as close as possible to the edge of the field. The height of the bleachers doesn't seem to bother Leah who climbs it simply to get to your height.

"I’m so proud of you, Leah" you smile as you stretch out your arms at her.

A big smile on her face, Leah hugs you with pleasure, putting a tender kiss on your lips.

"Did you see my goal?"

"Was it you? I could have sworn it was Cloé who scored that fantastic goal"

Leah snorts and you smirk at her, taking her face in your both hands.

"Have you seen my celebration too?"

"I did Baby. You're such a dork" you smile when Leah laughs and kiss her once again, forgetting the world around you, making you believing that you are all alone.

But you weren't.

"Hum. Mind if I hug my sister, too?"

September

Leah’s flirtatious nature is known in the football world and it never changed when you guys got together. You know perfectly well that there is nothing behind, you saw the way she flirted "for real" when she became interested in you. However, as you often tell her, it's not necessarily as easy to understand for the person in front of her. Because of her sexual orientation, they are very often girls.

But then again, you never gave her a fit of jealousy because she never exceeded the limits you set and because she always proved to you that you could have a blind and total trust in her. Apart from her sharp, chaotic, unpredictable and sometimes stubborn character, Leah knows how to be affectionate, attentive, romantic and tender. You think some people won’t believe you, but you don’t care. That part of Leah is only for you and that’s perfect.

But tonight, you feel your hormones bubbling. Leah asked you to join her in the karaoke bar she used to go to with her teammates. Tonight there’s Alessia, Lia, Alex, Katie and Caitlin. After breaking everyone’s ears on an Adele song, Katie was forced to sit down for the end of the evening and sulks in her corner. Alessia and Leah went back for drinks while Alex started a song with Caitlin.

Lia is installed at your side, but you must admit that you're paying any attention to your discussion. Your interest is entirely focused on the waitress who flirts without the slightest embarrassment with your wife.

"You’re not listening to me at all" Lia laughs softly, making you finally turn your head in her direction.

"No, I’m sorry."

You make a grimace but she addresses you a smile, apparently not in the least vindictive. You like the Swiss girl, you know she had a little fling with Leah before you met, but her behavior towards you has always been impeccable. You can’t tell if feelings are completely erased from her side, but she’s a loyal friend to Leah and who would you blame for someone having stifled feelings for the perfect woman that is Leah?

Speaking of the blonde, you shift your attention to her to see that she is still in full discussion with the waitress. Even Alessia seems to find time long, her gaze navigates between Leah and the table. Noticing that you observe the scene with coldness, she taps on Leah’s shoulder with a discreet nod in your direction.

Your eyes cross the baby blue of Leah who seems to realize the situation immediately. So she easily emerges from the grip of the waitress who had literally grabbed her arm to come back to you.

"A little song Less?" quickly offers Lia when she feels the tension emanating from your body.

Alessia vaguely answers a "Yes please" letting her desire to flee the possible dispute that point the tip of her nose, which would surely have amused you another day.

"You okay Babe?" asks Leah, putting a hand on your leg.

"Don’t Babe me, Leah." You said coldly with an eyebrow arched.

"Come on, Baby, it was nothing. We were just talking."

"Normal people don’t talk to others by sticking their breasts under their noses."

Leah rolls her eyes and you push her hand back from your leg, but the blonde does not let go and passes the same hand around your shoulders to squeeze you against her. You try to escape, but your big belly is holding you back. Now the baby’s on Leah’s side.

"Leah" you try to push her away despite the gust of kisses she puts all over your face.

"Leah" you repeat once again, feeling your anger wither.

"I love it when you say my name" your wife whispers mischievously in your ear.

"Stop it. It’s not funny"

Despite this, Leah has a smile on her face when she resumes speaking, your chin delicately trapped between her thumb and index finger.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it bothered you that much. You know I only see you. It doesn’t bother you so much usually, what changes this time?"

You shrug your shoulders in perfect bad faith. You know why, but you’re not sure you want to talk about it. When it goes like this before, you have a nice time sticking to Leah and making out with her to make your rivals understand that she's yours.

"Dunno" you mumble before you finish your soda.

"You’re lying" Leah whispers in your ear, laying a kiss on the corner of your jaw.

"What do you want me to say?" you sigh softly "she is younger, prettier and she can certainly offer free drinks to whoever she wants."

The end of your sentence was mostly meant to distract Leah from the rest, but it obviously didn’t work. The blonde straightens a little, frowning.

"No one is prettier than you"

"Oh please, Leah, I appreciate your support but I have already gained more than ten kilos. Be realistic. I am. And I don’t like it when women prettier than me flirt with my wife."

But Leah doesn't seem to hear it from this ear since your face always between her fingers is putting closer to hers. Her eyebrows are frowned, much more than usual.

"Nobody’s prettier than you. I’m serious."

You have trouble supporting the intensity of her gaze and you find yourself blushing like you did when she complimented you at the beginning of your relationship. The blonde finally releases your face, but only to tighten you against her, with two arms this time.

"You are my wife. No one is prettier than you."

October

In half a sleep, Leah turns around in your bed to get on her stomach, expecting to be able to curl up against you. Except that it's only the void that receives her, making her frown. Still without opening her eyes, she taps the mattress in search of your body, without success. It's only then that she opens her eyes and rises slightly on the mattress to note your absence at her side.

"Y/N?"

When the silence answers her, Leah ends up getting up and looking for you. She walks through the different rooms of the house starting with the bathroom and ending with your garden, without success. Gradually, the blonde feels panic invading her, especially when she realizes that your pajamas are wisely folded on a chair in your room and that you left with her purse but without your phone or your car.

It's with trembling hands and fingers that your wife grabs her phone to call the first number that comes to her mind in an emergency.

"What’s up Baba?" makes the sleepy voice of Amanda Williamson, awakened at 3am by her daughter.

"Y/N is missing."

********

When you return home, you are surprised to see that an additional car is in your driveway, apparently parked in a hurry. You don’t understand why your mother-in-law’s car is here, or why all the lights in the house are on.

So it’s puzzling that you go to the door, your food bag in your hand. People had warned you that you would have strange cravings, but you didn’t expect to want cinnamon rolls and Beef Jerky in the middle of the night. Unable to go back to sleep and not having it at home, you simply decided to go to the supermarket open 24/24 in your neighborhood to do some shopping.

If you were perplexed when you arrived at home, you have the impression that question marks grow on your head when you pass the front door. Leah is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands and your stepmother in a bathrobe over her nightgown on the phone with someone. Hearing the front door, Leah abruptly raises her head and before you realize it you find yourself pressed against her with blond hair obstructing your vision.

"Okay, she’s here. Yes … thank you very much" you hear Amanda saying before she hangs up.

"Where the hell were you? Are you okay? What happened?"

Leah releases you a little and holds you at arm’s length, letting her gaze slide over every inch of your body to check that you have no wound anywhere.

"I’m fine! I - I was hungry so I went to buy food"

"At 3 in the morning?!" Leah half-scream

"Yes?"

"Without taking your phone?"

"I forgot it."

"For God’s sake, have you lost your mind?! If anything had happened to you, what would you have done? We were calling the cops and -"

"Leah."

Amanda’s voice sounds and you realize at this moment that she has taken a few steps to get closer to you both. Laying a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she draws her attention with her calm, smoothing voice. It seems to work since Leah turns directly in her direction.

"She’s fine. You were afraid, but everything’s fine now"

The inspiration that Leah takes to calm down is audible throughout the room and you take advantage of this moment of calm to say in a small voice

"I'm so sorry"

The blue eyes of the footballer refer to you and the embrace that you exchange this time is more made to comfort her for once. Over her shoulder, you give your mother-in-law an apology smile.

"Sorry for pulling you out of bed in the middle of the night"

"No worries. But I’m going back now."

She winks at you and kisses you both before leaving the house. Leah is still in your arms and you gently stroke her back with your fingertips, following her spine. Her face is hidden in your neck and you kiss her hair before you speak again.

"Shall we go back to bed too?"

Leah answers you with a grunt and grabs your hand to train you in your bedroom, taking care to turn off the lights of the house in passing.

"Don’t ever do that to me again" Leah mutters and clings to you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear again.

"I’m sorry" you say again. "I know how tired you are with the games and the training. I just wanted to let you rest."

"I don’t care if I’m tired. If you need anything and I sleep, you wake me up. If anything happens to you and I’m gone, you call me. I won’t accept any excuses."

"At your command, Captain" you smile tenderly before kissing her.

"I’m not kidding, Williamson."

"I know, Williamson."

November

"Y/N Y/S/N Williamson, will you please come down that ladder, right now?"

Hearing the voice both panicked and commanding of your wife, you smile and roll your eyes. Leah’s over-protective behavior is growing day by day and you will surely not be allowed to lift any pencil soon.

"Leah, I’m not risking anything" you say, turning in her direction.

"No! Don't move! You will fall!"

Letting the panic prevail, Leah rushes towards you, throwing her football bag and her boots to makes you come down the ladder by carrying you in her arms like a bride. Smiling, you put your arms around her neck and put your lips on hers.

"You’re so strong" you coo tenderly before deposing other kisses along her jaw and into her neck.

You feel her shiver, so you continue your kisses. Leah was away all the morning and the beginning of the afternoon for training and you were getting bored. So you decided to install the Christmas decoration, going up the boxes from the cellar and setting up your Christmas tree. Without decorating it, knowing that Leah would do it with you. You also had time to decorate the windows with stickers and fake snow and you were finishing installing the lights above your windows.

"Oh no, I know exactly what you’re doing" laughs Leah as you, gently resting you on the floor.

"What?" you ask maliciously.

"You’re trying to distract me from your foolishness"

"I will only speak in the presence of my lawyer"

Leah laughs and you can’t help but smile when you hear your favorite sound. Putting yourself on tiptoe, you deposit a new kiss on her lips to which the blonde responds without hesitation.

"How is my baby?"

Her hand gently settles on your belly and you smile again feeling her do.

"He’s in great shape, he’s been kicking me all day"

"Believe me, there is a future talented footballer in there"

"A striker most certainly" you smirk

"No way. He's going to be a defender"

"Or a keeper"

"Who in the world would want to be a goalkeeper, except Mary’s children?"

You know that Leah is joking and that she will be happy no matter what path your child chooses. But if he could enjoy football and become an Arsenal fan, it would probably be a big plus for her. As if to confirm this words, you feel the baby give a new kick, exactly where Leah’s hand is.

"Well hello to you too Buba" Leah says tenderly before bending over to lay a kiss on your belly.

"How was training baby?" You ask, picking up the stuff Leah threw on the floor a few minutes ago.

"Leave it, I’ll take care of it" intervenes the blonde, grabbing you by the hand. "It was ok, but training in the cold begins to become painful"

You smile at her and decide to take her with you in the kitchen.

"How about a nice hot chocolate?"

"I think it’s the best idea of your day. Way above climbing a ladder and being eight months pregnant."

December

Leah is in the training room, surrounded by her teammates when her phone starts ringing. By habit, in case you have an emergency, she leaves it under general so you can contact her anytime. She gave you a special ring, allowing her to recognize your calls compared to others.

"Lee, phone" shouts Alessia across the room.

"Can you look who’s calling me please?"

The blonde does it willingly, rummaging through spare clothes and cereal boxes.

"It's your mother."

Leah sighs and walks across the room to grab her phone and hang up. However, Leah barely has time to rest it that it starts ringing again, making Leah frown.

"She knows I’m training, why is she insisting like that?"

The question is said aloud, but it could just as well be pronounced in his head. However, this would not have allowed Katie to respond.

"Maybe an emergency?"

"Didn’t you tell me Y/N was with her this morning?" intervenes Lia.

The captain’s face breaks down a little and she quickly picks up at this welcome reminder of her friend.

"Mom?"

"Baba don’t freak out, but we’re at the hospital. Y/N’s water just broke."

"I’m… I’m coming"

Just after hanging up, panic seizes Leah who gathers her belongings by embarking half of those belonging to Viv in passing. Miraculously her teammates manage to understand what she explains to them and Lia intervenes quickly, with all the calm and sweetness that characterizes her.

"I’m driving you, there's no way you’re driving in this state."

After refusing that the entire team accompanies them ("It’s a birth, not a summer camp"), it's finally with Alessia and Katie that Lia accompanies Leah to the right hospital. It's finally a good thing that the Swiss woman decided to accompany Leah, she would surely have managed to go to the wrong maternity.

"Leah breathe" Katie says from the back seat.

"Easy to say! If things go wrong? In addition, the baby is early! What if he doesn't survive this?"

"Wasn't the expected delivery date the December 12?" asks Lia, bowing her eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Leah, we’re the 7" Alessia gently intervened.

"So what?"

"I swear to God that if this child inherits your drama rate, I’ll get him enrolled in drama classes" says Katie, sighing at length.

In the room you’re in, time seems long without Leah. Amanda keeps you company until your wife gets here, but between the pain and the stress, you don’t look too good.

"You’re doing very well darling" your mother-in-law gently makes you, to whom you address a smile-grimace.

Fortunately, a few minutes later Leah finally makes her appearance, dressed in a sky blue outfit that you saw a thousand times in Grey’s Anatomy. The relief is so great when you see her come that tears rise to your eyes. Focused on Leah, you don’t even realize that Amanda is taking the powder.

"My Love" whispers Leah as she lays a kiss on your forehead.

Leah tenderly caresses your face while listening to the nurse’s information and you relax as much as possible. You didn’t hesitate for a second when you were asked if you wanted peridulral. You willingly let other women be brave, but you, no thanks.

The hours pass, both slow and fast. Leah does her best to relieve, relax or change your mind. She’s perfect, once again.

It's only around 2am that your baby’s cry finally sounds in the delivery room, after long hours of labor. You can’t tell which of the three of you cried the most when your little miracle is lying on your chest, Leah sitting next to you in bed.

A little blonde hair down, quickly covered with a hat, and baby blue piercing eyes as light as Leah's are the first features you discover in your perfect baby. Just like you hopped.

"So, what will you call this little angel?" the nurse ask you.

"Charlie. Her name is Charlie" Leah mumble, a big smile on her face. "Charlie Amanda Williamson."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader

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writer-room · 4 months

Text

Listen when people say they want Percy to go on a villain arc most times I see it as they want him to go dark, want him to start murdering, maiming, going full Luke, etc. And I support that. If anyone deserves to kill people it's this kid.

However, let us be realistic for a moment, because I quite like the other alternative. Villain arc Percy usually entails "he's finally had enough of the Gods bullshit & will do things his own way". Let us think on this. What would Percy most likely do in this situation? Would it really be murder right off the bat?

I think he'd be the pettiest, annoying little shit there is. And because one can't usually threaten the Gods in a way that truly matters, but they can make them sweat really hard.

This goes beyond ignoring their calls and leaving them on read. He refuses to give food offerings unless it's the nastiest shit known to man. Bribes the cyclops into hucking huge objects up Mount Olympus before they all scurry off. Finds the olive tree Athena gave to Athens, and while he wouldn't have the heart to destroy it, he'd for sure rip off a branch & mail it to her (Annabeth nearly had to put them in witness protection).

Eventually it gets to the point he has Nico on speed-dial and offers him a shit ton of fast food & a 'get out of Percy's quest bullshit free' pass if he could hop into the Underworld and yoink up some annoying spirits or dead monsters to piss off the Gods. When the Gods get pissed at him Percy just silently pulls out some safe-for-demigods phone like "hang on I wanna see how many happy meals I owe Nico for bringing Typhon back up". They know he is not bluffing.

Could the Gods counteract him? Yeah, sure, Hera gave him amnesia and it was like 90% effective for a while. However, he kind of went off the rails, everyone else went off the rails, and then they had even more Roman nonsense to deal with. If anything it both solved but also made even more problems. And a much angrier Percy. So, frankly, they're very confident it could work, but they're a little worried about what the aftermath would be.

Ares suggests just killing him. Poseidon takes offense to this. Artemis scoffs and says even Ares couldn't beat him. Everyone stops for a moment. The question is not asked verbally. But it is seen in the darting eyes and shifting seats.

Can they kill Percy Jackson?

Well, sure, they must be able to. He's a powerful kid, no doubt, with powerful allies, but they are Gods. Of course they can kill him. So that's not the real question, they wouldn't dare really entertain such a thing to ever confirm if it was true, but this is rather the layer of frosting hiding the real atrocity of a cake underneath it.

What will they lose trying to kill Percy Jackson?

What will remain standing in the face of some 18-year-old who lived one of the hardest knocks of life, loves so much it makes them sick, is so completely unaware of his own strength not even they know its full extent, and currently has absolutely zero fucks to give about the end of a reign longer than he will ever understand?

They decide to quietly shut the lid on that whole fiasco and let Percy do whatever he wants.

Unfortunately, they can't exactly ignore everyone else. And everyone else is who Percy cares about the most. So, think of it more like leaving a grenade in a locked box in the attic. Just hope and pray you've moved out before something gets curious and starts rummaging around up there.

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #dark percy jackson #ideas #talk #text post #greek gods #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #typhon #pjo headcanon #to be entirely clear percy is still someone who did just like manipulate bob into murder #and poisoned Akhlys thru her tears fully intending to kill #among other things. hes still that person. however hes also the guy who helps leo make some weird machine #and they try to test its flight by riding it off a cliff over the lake w bamboleo by gipsy kings blasting #hes still totally that guy (under stress but i say that not as an excuse just as an 'he doesnt do it on a whim. but he still Can')#but hes also like. stupid. & u gotta get him at the right Vibe before he starts to get like Really concerningly murderous about things #usually hes the regular amount of murderous like most halfbloods are bc they deal w too much on a regular basis #i think that a percy turning 'dark' would b him looking the gods in the eye & saying 'no lol. also u suck. L + ratio.'#& then when they try to fight him on it only THEN does he while still holding eye contact begin to make the ocean levels rise #specifically targeting important places to those gods & havin his ocean buddies destroy the place #u wanna dance god boys? he will spare humanity on some rock but he Will destroy everything else #he is one-shotting monsters bc hes not dealing w this. some bs happens & he just grabs some monster by the throat & makes them spill #if that doesnt work he just walks into olympus w pandoras box 2.0 & starts to open it until the gods will talk to him. they start talkin #bs again. he slowly opens it again. they talk. he shuts it. they spew more bs. he opens it a little faster. they give in #dark percy to me is someone who doesnt DEFAULT to violence but who realized 'oh i can just do whatever i want' & found that gods react #best when its violent. he only does this w gods & monsters bc he chooses fastest route to get what he wants. but he recognizes violence Bad #so he just looks for the most receptive response. & then he abuses it relentlessly. but he also hates the gods. come stop him btch u wont

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simpjaes · 5 months

Note

i try to not indulge in the idea of stepcest cause it feels so wrong but i need to admit to someone that it’s just so…mmmm. it’s a guilty pleasure soooo let me send this ask before u go crazy heehee

stepbro jay would be one of those guys whose so respectful and nice to everyone but really he’s the worst. during your first family dinner after you and your mom move in with him and his dad, he sits right next to you and keeps his hand on your thighs while laughing with his dad and your mom. later on in the night he comes to your room pretending he wants to talk to you but he actually has you face down ass up, with your face shoved in a pillow so your moans and screams are muffled. he’s so arrogant and mean to you because you’re just an easy access fucktoy for him 🤭

sorry this is being answered so late! anyway, i get that you feel like it's wrong but here on this blog, we support fiction being like, yknow, not fuckin' real.

wc: 1.6k

note: jay and reader are in college living with their good ol' very in love parents. warnings: stepcest, jay is kinda rough lol, use of the word slut

step bro jay appearing like the perfect son and the perfect brother for you?? Your mom always thought you needed some type of male energy in your life that didn't involve boyfriends or her failed boyfriends, and she was really happy to learn how much he enjoyed being around when she and jay's dad eventually got serious and wanted to settle down.

it was a win/win. Your mother no longer needed to overwork herself to take care of herself and you, and you now had someone to lean on too.

And lean on him you did.

What your mother didn't know was the instant attraction you had to Jay. You're a young woman after all, freshly twenty two and so fucking ready to mingle since your last boyfriend was an awful lay. God, if only you had met Jay before your mom fucked his dad. like, for real.

And what Jay's dad didn't know is that he raised an absolute slut. Jay knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he would be encouraging his father to keep it up with your mom. Why? So he can be around you, of course, so he can see if you'd be willing to let him play with you a little bit.

Now though? he's learned that you're moving in alongside your mother and he didn't protest for even a moment. Hell, he practically moved you into your new room himself, trying to officially get on your good side since by this time, the two of you have only gotten to hang out five or six times, and never alone.

The first time Jay cornered you was a little surprising, as you thought you were the only one with a sneaky little crush on him. You remember it like it was yesterday (because it was like the same night you moved in).

He was moving the last box into your room as you sat on your floor organizing a small box of knick knacks. Your mother was outside with his father attempting to move in a large vanity that both you and Jay knew would take some time without their help.

"You seemed excited when they told us you were moving in--" Jay starts, sitting down the box and standing in front of you, looking down at you until you make eye contact. "Why?"

You shrug, blinking up and tilting your head.

"It's just nice to see her happy, I guess?" You offer.

"Bullshit, I've seen you checking me out." He says snidely, crouching down to your level and swiveling his head a bit to get a real good look at your face.

Before you can deny it, he smiles and continues.

"You know, I'm kinda into it."

And then he walked out, leaving you there with a crush that grew just a bit more.

The second time he cornered you was after a shower, shortly before one of your classes started. He stepped out of his room the same time you stepped out with dampened skin sticking to your t-shirt. No pants, no bra, just the shirt and panties.

You really should have considered that you live in a house with men now. It doesn't matter how early in the morning it is, anyone could be awake. And of course, Jay was awake.

He stopped in his tracks to check out your legs. Entirely blatant about it before walking up to you. You stumbled back a step, straight into the bathroom as he continued to walk closer and closer. Up until you were against the counter, he was smiling, and then brushed his hand by your waist to grab his toothbrush behind you with a small and cocky whisper of "god, you looked so ready for me to do something else, didn't realize you were that desperate."

So, that was something that stuck in your brain for like, way too long.

The third time was when he did do something else. Your mother was at work, his father too, and you had just gotten home from class. Normally, you've learned that Jay takes classes much later than you do, but he was home today.

God, he was definitely home.

With his hand down his pants.

On your bed.

And, well, you can argue that's probably the moment your crush on him crossed a boundary that would never be spoken of. Because what you did was blasphemous. Your parents should have known not to move in together with two horny college students in tow. Honestly.

You still remember the way his hands felt up your shirt, offering him a bit more than just his imagination there on your bed. He touched you a lot that day, and in turn you touched yourself twice as more on his bed just a day later.

So, that leads to tonight's dinner. Again, the first real dinner you've gotten to have as a "family" and all you can think about is the way your mom dotes on Jay for being such a good, protective brother. And how his father dotes on you, for being such a good influence on his son....despite his son's hand squeezing your thigh as he accepts the compliments and dotes on them right back.

"Thanks for making my dad happy again." "Thank you for always cooking the best meals." "Thank you for making the house look like a home."

God, you roll your eyes at him, really. Because you've already grown accustomed to the dirty, fucked up things he says to you when the two of you are alone. That hand on your leg further proves that he's full of shit and he knows you love it.

The worst part is that you do. Despite telling him that night you let him touch you that it would never happen again. Despite him not knowing that you have had at least three orgasms against the very pillow he lays his head on at night.

Anyway, it's wrong. And you continue to brood over the fact that you genuinely can't let yourself be weak again around him. No matter how much you want him, no matter how much he appears to want you.

He knows you set a boundary last time, and since then he hasn't approached you again until now, with his hand squeezing up your thigh until you jolt under the touch and alert your mother.

You dodged her questions, swiped his hand away, and finished your meal as quietly as you could before immediately heading back to your room.

"What's up with her?" Jay's father asks, looking at your mother.

"I'm not sure..."

Jay stands up, smiling genuinely and innocently at both of them.

"I'll go talk to her. She mentioned something about a fight with one of her friends the other day. She's probably upset about it or something"

The parents beam at him, despite his blatant lie as he makes his way to your room.

And, well, you're bad at keeping your own boundaries apparently because the second he walked into your room was the second you fell apart. As if his hand on your leg didn't already have you crumbling.

"You're too obvious." He scolded. "I just touched your leg, relax. At least let me get something out of this if you're not gonna put out for me after all that from before." He continued.

You just sat there staring at his angry whispered words.

"Jay--" You started in a half moan, but he continued.

"What's so bad about wanting to fuck anyway? You're right here, and you want it. I mean, look at you." he waves his hands at your body, and the way your fingers are clearly inside of yourself. "Me touching your leg has you up here trying to reach places that only i'd be able to reach."

"Then do it--" You cut yourself off this time, moving your fingers and scissoring them open in hopes that he would really give it to you despite your protests from the last time.

He's so fast with it too, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down the bed before shoving you to roll over. There, you immediately arch your back and perk your ass up at him. He shakes his head in pity, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he likes it. He probably loves when girls do this for him. And he reacts even more to it by pulling the loose shorts down your thighs, and then spreading your legs.

"Fuck, I knew you'd let me." He praises himself more than you. "Put your fingers back in, let me see what you what you were doing up here all by yourself."

You found yourself listening instantly, sliding in two fingers and hiding your face in your pillow. This only pushes him further, glancing up at the way you hide from the act, then licking his own fingers and sliding them in along side your own.

"What would your mom say?" He laughs, lifting himself now and placing his hand on the back of your head. "Hm? Do you think she'd be interested to find out how much of a slut her daughter is?"

All you can do is nod brokenly against the harsh feeling of his palm against your head, and the way he slides his fingers into you, forcing pressure on your own.

"You're gonna take it, right?" He continues, watching those broken nods continue before he's pulling his fingers out of you, pushing your face further into those pillow, and shoving his pants down just enough to get his cock out.

"Yeah, fuck, look at it. You want it so bad." He seethes out through gritted teeth, staring at the way your needy cunt clenches around your fingers in reaction to the loss of his. Then he's slapping your wrist to remove your fingers and immediately pushing into you. Giving you exactly what you want, and all of that.

He's such a good brother, for real.

There, he doesn't relent or let you breathe even for a moment. All you can hear is ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting out words of, "god, you're so fucking tight." and "dripping all over me, you really thought I'd stay away?" and "yeah, fuck, just take it."

And you do. You take it. Biting into the pillow through the pleasure and immense guilt of loving the way your strep brother's cock pulses inside of you. Loving the way he fucks hard and fast. Loving that he slides in deep every fucking time.

So much for talking.

Then again, you clearly weren't in the mood to talk anyway.

#jay smut #enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #.hard hours #.jay #ask #hardthots

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deliciousbasementtrash · 5 months

Text

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: https://www.instagram.com/twalxxart/ Twalxx

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. There has been an emergency and you have been called into the line of fire. You have been injured by the Black Mask, how will Jason react?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, mentions of gunshots and death

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 9: If I Have to Throw You Over My Shoulder I Will

***********************************************************

Jason Todd

[Jason, please we need backup. We need you.] Dick had sent about ten minutes ago.

Some dark part of me wanted to do nothing. The part of me that was tortured and beaten. The part of me that was angry no one cared enough to avenge me. But I loved Dick like he was my flesh and blood. And whether I admit it to myself or not… I love Bruce the same way.

Often I think about how my life led me down this way. Was it fate? Was it God? Was it just dumb fucking luck?

There is one theory I keep circling back to. The Red String Theory. At birth, we have invisible red strings tying us to the people we are destined to meet. Was I tied to my parents? Bruce? Alfred? Dick? Tim? Barbara? Steph? Cass? Damian? Duke? Or even… him?

That’s too many. If that’s true, my fate lines look more like a messy evidence board. Or maybe a fucked up marionette puppet. Like I was made to be influenced by those tied to me. Pushed and pulled. Just a vessel of violence.

But the Red String Theory couldn’t be true. At least not for me. I’m so covered in red. You can’t pull a red thread out of a sea of blood.

My morbid thoughts halted when I saw Pizza Joe’s. I parked off to the side. In an alley, no one could see. I approached the gunshots, listening for Dick. Boy Wonder was nowhere to be seen, but I made mental notes of the men that were perched on the buildings.

I made my way discreetly around the building, toward the back. My heart stopped dead in my chest.

Y/n was pinned against the wall. With a gun in her mouth. Fighting with everything in her against the Black Mask.

Something in me snapped. Without hesitation I shot twice at his arm, severing the flexor digitorum profundus and rendering his index and middle finger useless. I shot through his stupid fucking masked head. I shot through his heart. I shot through the bastard's fucking dick. I shot. And I shot. And I shot. No one hurts her. Ever.

I barely noticed Bruce as I stepped over him. I could have checked his pulse, his status, anything. But all I cared about was getting to her.

Anger and fear surged inside me, at the sight of seeing her covered in blood. I started to panic. My chest felt like one thousand pounds of pressure was crushing me. All I could do to calm myself down was to pull her into my arms and hug her tight enough that I felt her heartbeat against mine. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

I had stayed away from her this past week. Trying to keep her safe from whatever bullshit I would bring her. But here she was finding the danger all on her own. Without me to make sure she was safe.

Seeing her face, feeling her against my body, lit something up inside me. Anger surged.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I growled.

***********************************************************

Jason grabbed my chin, slowly moving it from side to side, inspecting my blood-spattered face. His mouth was moving but all I could hear was the damn ringing in my skull. Jason frowned and looked at both my ears. I felt a warmth run down the left side of my neck.

Jason leaned into my right side, his cold helmet brushed against the shell of my ear making me shiver. “You’re hurt.” The words were simple. But they were laced with bitterness and anger that went beyond reason.

I looked up at his Red Hood, “Dick needs your help.” I couldn’t tell if I was screaming the words or saying them at a reasonable volume. I couldn’t gauge Jason’s reaction either which annoyed me. I wanted to rip that helmet off and see his face.

“I’m looking at someone that needs my full attention right now. Grayson can handle himself,” he snarled the words at me.

Gunshots sounded loud enough for me to hear. My brain started spiraling into the worst-case scenario. A Dick Grayson riddled with bullets involuntarily entered my mind. “Please help him. Please, Jason.” I grabbed his arm as I begged. His bicep tensed under my grip.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he ground out. “Get behind me.” Despite his harsh tone, he gently moved me behind him. His broad shoulders and generous height covered me completely. I kept a hand at the base of his hip. Ready to heal him if needed.

There were four shooters surrounding Dick, and three on the buildings, all pointing their guns at him. Jason opened a pocket on his thigh and reloaded his right gun one-handed. He was so smooth with the movement it was like he was doing something simple like buttering toast. He was dexterous at a level I can only describe as masterful.

Jason aimed at an impossible speed and precision. Seven shots rang out. Seven men fell. I don’t even think they realized Jason was enemy fire until they already had a bullet fly through them. It was seemingly impossible.

Jason didn’t give me a chance to assess Dick or Bruce before throwing me over his shoulder and walking away.

“I need to help them! Jason! Jason, listen to me!” I yelled and slapped the back of his leather jacket. He ignored me or I didn’t hear his response. Knowing him, most likely the former.

Suddenly, he moved me off his shoulder and straddled me onto his motorcycle. My mind was acutely aware of his large hands pinning my waist down.

“Grayson is fine. He will take care of Bruce and your car. I’m taking you home. Now.” He was leaning toward my good ear again, his voice was dark and commanding. Lighting a certain part of me on fire. Who am I kidding, my whole being burned.

“I am fine, Jason. Really. You got there in time. Just let me heal the boys and I’ll go with you!” I sneered at him.

“How about no,” Jason sneered back and straddled onto the motorcycle behind me. His firm body was flush against the entire back side of mine. My breathing became uneven when he reached his arms around me and revved his motorcycle before accelerating. I tried not to lean back into him. But he was so warm and I was so tired. Jason must have felt my tension. His hand found my hip, as he continued steering with the other. He pushed back, forcing my body to melt into his.

“I’ve got you,” he said, making me shiver.

Gotham was a blur of lights as Jason drove us back to the Batcave. In a record, 6 minutes. Which I tried not to take personally.

He rode us through the entrance, and as close as he could get to my workstation. He got off quickly as if trying to get away from me. But just as quickly scooped me up from my underarms and placed me on top of my examination table. I blushed at the firm way he moved me around. Like I was his to just grab and move as he pleased. He was an extremely strong man. He made it seem like it was no effort at all.

He roughly took off the Red Hood. His hair was a wild mess. His eyes were dark with what appeared to be anger and concern. His breathing quickened as he looked me over.

“What blood is yours?” He curtly asked, messily digging into my neat supplies. I tried not to cringe as he did. With his mask off it was a lot easier to understand him because I could read his lips and vaguely hear him.

I looked down at my red-stained hands. I curled them up and down. The blood was sticky and cracked. Suddenly, an assault of memories flooded my mind.

The hospital wing after the mass shooting—healing a man being tortured over and over for information—my mom's bloody nose—my bloody legs dripping into my sneakers. Breathing became sharp and rushed.

A hand gently caressed my face, “Hey, hey. It’s just me. It’s Jason,” his voice and touch was gentle. Easing my mind back to reality. When I was no longer trapped in my own mind I realized that Jason was once again cleaning up my hands. He washed the blood off of them until you never knew I had stabbed a man in the neck.

His hands were warm and calloused and thorough. For a moment he just held my hands in his. His thumb traced small circles on the inside of my wrist causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Slowly, he trailed upward to my forearm, and an angry sigh left his mouth. Wordlessly, he cleaned and tended my cut. Wordlessly, he wiped the blood and brain matter from my face and neck. Wordlessly, he took off my stained hoodie and disgusting scrubs. Until I was left in my white undershirt and tight black shorts.

His eyes were hard and staring just above the curve of my breast. Right where my heart rapidly beat. Right where the Black Mask had made a small but deep cut. And then his eyes trailed upward. Toward my bruised neck, and burned cheek.

“I should have killed him slower,” he growled out. I hadn’t realized how close Jason was to me. Somehow he had gotten between my legs and mere inches away from my face. My cheeks heated, as I took in the oddly delicate features of this harsh man. He had a very light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. His eyes were more of a stormy gray than blue. His eyelashes were so pretty and long I wanted to slap him. And his Cupid’s bow was sharp and defined which highlighted his full lips. I swallowed roughly.

“Thank you, for—for helping me,” I whispered, afraid that if I spoke any louder I might scare him off.

Jason scoffed angrily, “You shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place. I’m going to beat Bruce with an inch of his life—”

Gently, I gripped Jason’s hand, “I chose this. Don’t be mad at Bruce. If anything, be mad at me. I should have been more prepared. I should have brought a weapon.”

Jason leaned his forehead in so it was just barely touching mine. I involuntarily held my breath.

His hands reached for mine as he traced along my old burns. “We are bad for you.” He whispered.

“You guys have given me a part of myself that I thought was lost forever. How could that ever be bad?” I lifted a hand hesitantly up toward his cheek. Jason leaned in like he was desperate for the contact. For comfort. For me.

“I can’t get you out of my head. I want—” Jason’s soft words were interrupted by the screeching of my car followed by the Batmobile. Jason practically jumped five feet away from me. I frowned at the lack of contact.

Well, Bruce is well enough to drive, that’s good. Pretty fucking shit timing though, Batboy.

I lowered myself from the table. I tried hiding my wince, but I saw Jason tense. He reached forward steadying me, before scolding, “Do not push yourself for them.”

Dick came out of my car with a large dimpled smile and a huge ugly shinner. Bruce looked pale but better. I motioned for them to sit where I was just perched. Ready to finish healing them.

Bruce was simple. I just had to re-patch him up. Finish what I started. Dick was a bit more complicated. Homie had the snot beat out of him. One of the bright sides was that he wasn't shot.

When I was done, both Dick and Bruce politely excused themselves to their rooms.

I slowly cleaned up my workstation. Jason silently helped me. His mouth was a firm line.

My hands shook with exhaustion when I was done. My eyes went in and out of focus. My head was pounding from the exertion and the physical trauma. I covered my bad ear, trying to will the ringing to stop. Jason noticed and gently pulled me to him. Before I knew it he had his arm under my knees and back, and he cradled me into the elevator.

I snorted at him, “I’m fine, Jason, really. Don’t go through the trouble of carrying me.”

“I think I want to rip that word out of your vocabulary,” he snapped. “Let me just carry you. Don’t make it a big deal.”

My heart sank, and I whispered, “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“While I’m at it, I’ll take that one too,” he said, pressing the button number 4. Our floor number. “Don’t lie to me and tell me you’re fine. Don’t ever apologize for existing.” He huffed and paused, “Please.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. The elevator ride went by shockingly quickly. He walked past his room and into mine. He set me down on my bed gently. He pulled my blankets back and covered me. I got deja vu as he did it. I smiled under my covers.

Jason pulled an armchair towards my bed. He angled it so he could see both the door and the windows. I looked at him, confused.

He shrugged at me, “I didn’t like seeing a man have a gun in your mouth. I actually don’t think I saw it for more than two seconds before everything went red.”

“So, that explains why you’re watching me in my armchair because…”

Hashbrown barrelled toward Jason. She rubbed her body on his feet demanding attention. Jason swiftly picked her up and held her on his lap. She seemed to soothe him as he pet her. The tension in his body decreased, instead of ramrod straight he leaned back. Almost comfortable, but not quiet.

“Because I need to make sure that you’re okay,” he said after a few minutes went by.

“Why?” I asked, needing an answer.

“I don’t like it when you’re hurt. Or in danger,” he answered.

“Why?” I demanded, again.

He roughly raked a hand through his messy hair, “I don’t know why. I just feel like… like you’re mine to protect. You put all your energy into healing other people. You deserve someone to care if you’re healthy and safe.”

I think only two people in the world have ever cared about that. Sam and my mom. His words were like wildfire to my mind and body.

Warmth bloomed in my chest, followed by boldness, “Do you have to protect me from all the way over there? Or can you protect me in my bed?”

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno @killxz @morpheus-girl @redhood414 @bungunz @conicoroahre @greenyofthegreens @taytaylala12 @theroyalmanatee @nym-0-s @sarahskywalker-amadala @bonesbonesetc @dreaming-of-the-reality @gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid @bakugosgf2005 @irregular-child @vythika96 @greenyofthegreens @mythicalmo @eccentricarabella-blog @princessbl0ss0m @ghostindeath @whirlwind2005 @the-lights-are-loud @00hellohello00 @tfygcdy @theblindhag @murkyponds @midnightecko @crookedmakerfury @cosmicqueenieb @deans-spinster-witch @princessbl0ss0m

If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: Thank you all so much for your kind words, comments, messages, and interactions!! They inspire me to keep writing. I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story, thank you again <3

Hashbrown Cam!

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janaispunk · 7 months

Text

only bought this dress so you could take it off

series masterlist • this is part I

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: I was on my summer vacation last week, and I’m suffering from severe Dave York brainrot lately, which inspired a vivid daydream of Dave taking me on a little trip and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was planning to keep it a oneshot, but there are so many more ideas for this floating around in my head, so a part 2 miiight be happening. Please read the warnings, this one’s nasty! (it’s the murder daddy energy)

word count: ~10.4k (this was supposed to be a nice little pwp, idk what happened) (Dave was holding me at gun-point)

summary: You have been sleeping with Dave York for a few months, keeping things casual, when he suggests to go on vacation together. You’re not sure what to expect, but you agree, and Dave takes very good care of you.

warnings: bits of angst, dubious morality (Dave is cheating on his wife), kinda unhealthy relationship dynamics, age-gap implied, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, rough sex, semi-public touching, sir kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv (reader is on bc in my head, but it’s not mentioned in the fic), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, spanking, choking, edging, spit kink, restraints, idiots in love, let me know if I missed any!

this is explicit 18+ content, minors do not interact pleaseeeee

Your phone starts buzzing on your work desk around 8 AM. You just got into the office and are starring at your monitor blankly, nursing a to-go cup of too expensive coffee and questioning your life choices. A regular Tuesday really.

You groan and flick your eyes down to your phone, your mind way too exhausted to deal with whoever is trying to contact you right now. You read the name on the screen and do a double take, your tiredness immediately forgotten. You hastily grab the device and press the green button to accept the call.

“Hey,” you say, trying your best not to sound just as eager as you suddenly feel. He doesn’t need to know the effect a simple call from him has on you.

“Good morning, sweetheart. What took you so long to answer, huh?” his voice sounds in your ear, calm and composed as always, but with a hint of teasing. You bite your lip, thankful that he can’t see how just hearing him speak has a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“S-sorry, just work and everything, you know?”

You can’t help the little sigh that you let out -work really has been a nightmare lately- and he chuckles sympathetically.

“You poor thing. Speaking of work, I actually have a favor to ask you.”

He knows fully well that he doesn’t need to ask you favors - you’d give him everything he wants, without question. His usual demanding tone is lacing his words and you involuntary clench your thighs together. God, you’re down so bad for this man.

This, as you need to keep reminding yourself, married man, who lives the perfect suburban life with his wife and their two kids. He’s not in love with you, you’re well aware of that, and you’re trying your hardest not to fall in love with him either.

You don’t know what exactly is going on between him and his wife and you don’t pry. He’s told you that things between them aren’t working out anymore and that they’ve agreed to stay together and play happy family until their girls are older. You’re not dumb, you know that this is the kind of story that every cheating man tells the other woman. And you’d probably call him out on his bullshit, if he were any other man. Hell, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with any other married man in the first place.

But Dave isn’t just any man and he’s got you wrapped around his finger ever since you met in a hotel bar a few months ago. You had just been stood up at said bar and Dave had been on a business trip, spending the night there. He came up to you, looking more handsome than any man should have the right to, bought you a drink and had you following him up to his room in the blink of an eye, which led to sex that was easily the best you had ever had.

Now, Dave calls you regularly, mostly when he’s close enough to meet up, but also some nights when he whispers filthy things into your ear until you come on your own fingers because he is too far away to put his hands on you.

You like to think that he cares about you, that you’re not just the willing means to an end and that you can actually give him something that he can’t get anywhere else. Something soft, a person that cares for him and gives him the chance to be soft as well. Because they exist, those moments of softness, in between tangled sheets and laughs shared in the darkness of your room, his fingers mindlessly dancing over your body when he thinks you’re already asleep and his lips pressed against yours a little too urgently when he’s saying goodbye to you.

But most of the time, Dave doesn’t like to care. He also doesn’t like to be soft. He’s ruthless, his edges sharp like a knife and he likes coming at you hard. He doesn’t tell you exactly what he does for a living, but you suspect that it’s dangerous and violent. He needs an outlet, somewhere he can let his aggressions run free, someone he can control.

This, you can definitely give him. You let him take it out on you when things get too much, you give up all control to him, and you love it. And he knows that you do. Sometimes you wonder if that’s the only reason he’s keeping you around, but you can’t bring yourself to believe it.

So, when your phone lights up with his name, you answer, trying to conceal your desperation to hear his voice, the hold he has on you, even if you’re fighting a losing battle. And when he’s asking for a favor, you hum questioningly, even though you already know that your answer will be “yes”.

“Take the next week off, and pack a bag. I’m having a few free days, so we’re going away for a bit, I’m picking you up on Saturday.”

He’s basically giving you an order, not stopping to ask if you’ve already got plans, if this might be a bad time, anything. Do this, be there, stat. Because he knows that you will do as he says and you know it, too.

Excitement bubbles up in you, the prospect of spending a whole week with Dave, something of a vacation, from what it sounds like, is more than you had ever allowed yourself to even daydream about. This is not what your relationship is about, it’s not what you do. Except that… apparently it is?

“I- okay, yes. That- that sounds great, Dave.” Your delight at his proposal is clear in your voice. “Where are we going? What do I need to pack? Do I need to prepare anything?”

He chuckles again and you can picture him shaking his head.

“No doll, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just bring your passport and pack for warm weather. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops an octave and he’s basically purring in your ear. “The sluttier, the better.”

He hangs up without waiting for your answer. You’re left to spend the rest of your workday in a daze, your panties soaked and your head busy with already cataloguing your entire closet and which things you’ll pack.

The days pass you by in weird chunks of time. On one hand, you can’t wait for Saturday, while on the other hand, you feel terribly unprepared, causing anxiety to creep up on you several times throughout the week. Every vacation you’ve ever been on has been meticulously organized and planned out by yourself and the lack of knowledge that you’re dealing with right now is entirely foreign to you.

What if you need a certain vaccine for wherever you’re going and you don’t have it? What if the flight has an early check-in that you need to take care of? Has Dave booked a hotel? How are the reviews? What do you need to prepare for?

The nervous urge to be ready for every kind of situation that you can’t satisfy right now is threatening to drive you crazy and you need to remind yourself more than once that this is Dave that you’re dealing with. Not one of your ex-boyfriends that would’ve come up with some half-assed plan that lacked in several vital points and required you to take care of things yourself eventually.

Dave is even more thorough than you, he doesn’t leave anything up to chance and he doesn’t forget things. You’re still reeling from the mere fact that he’s planning to take you away for a whole week. You’ve never spent that much uninterrupted time together and you honestly hadn’t thought that he would want to. This is couple stuff. And you’re not a couple. You’re just someone he sleeps with occasionally. You need to remember at least that.

You have texted him a few times, trying to get more information about the trip, but he hasn’t budged. You only manage to find out that he’ll come pick you up Saturday morning and that you’ll be gone for a whole week. And that you should pack a lot of bikinis.

“You make sure you’ll look good for me, and I’ll take care of the rest,” his text read. Followed up by a stern, “Stop worrying.”

You try taking his words to heart and get prepared in the one way you can: Buying lots of skimpy dresses and bikinis. You vividly picture him taking them off of you and it works. You do stop worrying.

Saturday finally rolls around and you’re ready, suitcase fully packed and dressed in a skirt so short that it will probably have you freezing your ass off on the airplane, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.

His taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building and he jumps out to meet you while the driver loads in your suitcase. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s on your face when Dave’s arms envelop you and your lips are on his before he even gets a greeting out. He chuckles as he kisses you softly, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, before he pulls away slightly to look at you. You’re breathless; the sight of him in his crisp shirt, the top two buttons undone to show off a sliver of his broad chest, his sharp jawline and those brown eyes trained firmly on you already enough to drive you a little crazy with need for him.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he murmurs against your lips, one hand still in your hair while the other one trails down to the hem of your skirt and skims the backside of your thighs before he gives your ass a rough squeeze. You nod quickly as a breath leaves you, not quite a moan but enough to clearly show him the effect his touch immediately has on you.

“Desperate little thing,” he grins and adds a playful slap to your backside before pecking your lips again and leading you towards the waiting car.

He slips in beside you, his hand immediately finding your thigh again and gently rubbing against the bare skin, creeping below your skirt’s hem again and again as you take off in the direction of the airport.

You’re falling into your familiar routine with him, the first effects of seeing him and the flare of your chemistry with each other calming down a little and allowing you to actually talk with him like a normal person, not a lovesick teenager. You’re filling each other in on the few weeks since you last saw each other, the little occurrences that you wanted to tell him about but didn’t have the opportunity to at the time. He’s not much of a texter and you understand that; he’s busy with his job and his family whose existence you still need to keep reminding yourself of.

His large hand doesn’t leave your thigh once throughout the drive, keeping a hold on you that feels especially possessive whenever his grip tightens. At the airport he grabs both of your suitcases and purposefully strides off, leaving you to walk beside him with nothing but your little purse. It’s not a grand gesture by any means, but still, no one has ever taken care of things for you like this and your want for him is bubbling inside of you.

He drops your baggage off at check-in and hands you your boarding pass. You can’t help the squeal that you let out when your eyes find the destination and you excitedly throw your arms around him.

“Are you serious? How did you know that I always wanted- But Dave, that’s SO much, I can’t have you pay for all this, I-“

He shushes you gently, though you can tell that he’s clearly pleased with how happy you are about where you’re going. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hand and rubs his hands over your shoulders.

“Of course you can. I wanted to do something nice for you, sweetheart, you’ve been so stressed out lately. And I-,” he trails off, looking almost a little bashful, “I wanted to spend my time off with you, without interruptions, you know.”

You think that he wants to add more, but he doesn’t, his expression slightly regretful like he accidentally said too much already. He barely verbalizes his feelings and you don’t push it.

“Thank you Dave, it’s- thank you. I really appreciate it.”

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly, trying to convey what you feel but can’t put into words. How you’re not even there yet and it’s already more than anyone has ever done for you. How ‘I wanted to spend my time off with you’ has butterflies erupting in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to suppress them. How it has you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you might be more for him than just the girl that he’s fucking on the side because his marriage is shitty. How much you wish that you were.

But you don’t have time to ponder all this because he possessively wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you off towards security control, then to the gate where he gets you your favorite Starbucks without even asking for your order, and onto the plane, where he lets you have the window seat and his hand finds its way back onto your thigh.

You brought a book to read on the flight but you can’t make it through one page without losing your focus. Dave’s hand keeps climbing higher and higher, alternating between gripping your inner thigh tightly and drawing featherlight circles on the soft skin, and the heat that had been smoldering within you since you first laid eyes on him today is slowly but steadily becoming too much to bear.

Dave seems annoyingly unaffected, his face as composed as ever as he asks questions about your book, and you know that he notices the way you’re squirming in your seat, and how much he’s enjoying the fact that he’s the one to make you act like this.

You’re in the middle of a sentence when his fingers suddenly move all the way up your thigh and brush lightly against the fabric of your underwear. It’s a barely-there touch, but you’re so wound up that it’s enough to cause you to interrupt yourself with a loud gasp. He retracts his hand the tiniest bit, still hovering between your thighs, and tuts at you.

There’s a dark glint in his eyes that hasn’t been there moments before. You know this look and it takes everything in you to not clench your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. He raises an eyebrow, the condescension written clear on his face and his voice a low rumble, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want everyone on here to know how much of a slut you are for me, now would we? Huh?”

He pinches the soft flesh on your inner thigh roughly when you don’t answer fast enough and you bite your lip, suppressing the whine that is threatening to come out of you.

“N-no…” you whisper and Dave arches his eyebrow even higher, looking at you expectantly. You gulp.

“No, sir.”

A small smile plays around his lips and he places a kiss on your cheek. “Good girl,” he mutters and his hand creeps up again until he’s rubbing against your panties, which you know are absolutely soaked by now. Your hips chase his touch and he chuckles darkly as he withdraws his fingers, completely this time, until he’s holding them up to your face. You can tell that the fingertips are shiny with the arousal that leaked through the fabric and you feel yourself blushing.

“Lick it off,” he demands, and your eyes widen. “H-here?” you dare to ask. His gaze hardens.

“You wanna talk back to me?” His voice is calm, but you can sense the tension that’s rolling off of him. You should be disgusted, both by his request and the way that he’s talking to you, but you’re not. This is how you want him, how you crave him.

You shake your head hastily, acutely aware that questioning him was probably enough to get you into serious trouble later on. The thought sends another wave of desperate arousal through you.

“Then lick. It. Off. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

His tone is clipped, his face a hard mask, but your eyes flick down momentarily and the growing bulge in his pants tells you that he’s not as unaffected by the situation as he wants you to believe. You train your eyes back to his face and hold his gaze as you lean forward and obediently clean his fingers with tiny kitten licks. His jaw tenses as he finally draws his fingers back from your tongue and runs them across your cheek, smearing the traces of your spit there.

A small whine slips out of your throat as you feel fresh wetness flooding your panties and he grins before he kisses you again, murmuring a “Good girl” against your lips. He leans back into his seat, his hand finding an almost innocent position close to your knee.

“Why don’t you read a little more, sweetheart? We’ll be there soon.”

He flashes you a smile that could pass as genuine but you catch the glint in his eyes as he clocks your dazed expression and your slightly parted lips. You nod dumbly and pick the book back up, but not a single word that you read actively registers in your mind.

You try catching glances at Dave, until by the fourth time, he pinches your chin between his fingers and turns your head back forward. “I said, read,” he murmurs into your ear. You know he gets off on this stuff, giving you stupid little orders. And on the fact that you let him. That you get off on it, too.

Your arrival happens in a blur. Dave leads you off the plane and through the smallest airport you’ve ever been to. Your brain is still a bit muddled from the unsatisfied arousal he’s ignited in you and now you’re excitedly turning your head left and right, trying to get in as many impressions as you possibly can. You’re not paying close attention to what’s happening and you’re thankful for the way Dave is taking charge without question. You’re happy to link you fingers through his and let him lead you wherever you need to go.

He retrieves your luggage, walks you out of the airport and to a waiting car. You spend the drive staring out of the window, your eyes wide, taking in all the beauty around you. It’s like you’ve arrived in literal paradise. You tell Dave as much and he chuckles, lifting your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The unexpectedly sweet gesture has you blushing and a soft smile plays around his lips.

The hotel is, quite frankly, insane. If you had been worried about the amount of money that he’s spent on this trip before, it pales in comparison to how you’re feeling now. The building is nestled against the foot of a mountain, lush green trees surrounding the front and the road leading up to the entrance, while it opens up to a small, private bay where turquoise waves calmly roll up against the whitest sand you’ve ever seen.

There’s glass walls everywhere, giving you an almost 360° view as you step into the lobby. You know that you’re gaping and Dave actually laughs at your expression as he walks you up to the reception desk to check in. You’re not listening closely, too busy taking in your surroundings and convincing yourself that this is your real life and not some extremely realistic daydream that you’re having while sitting at your work desk.

Dave finishes up and wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you to the elevators, stepping inside and pressing the top button. The doors slide closed and you can barely think about the fact that you’re apparently staying on the top floor before you’re being whirled around and end up with your front pressed against the elevator wall with Dave’s hands roughly shoving up your skirt until your ass is exposed to him.

Your surprised giggle morphs into a moan as his hand comes down hard to slap it, before gripping the flesh so roughly that it borders on painful. He presses his body up against yours and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as his other hand slides up to cup your breasts over your tank top.

“Dave- we can’t-,” you gasp just as the elevator comes to a halt and dings. He growls and flicks your skirt back down, but keeps you pressed against his side as the doors slide open again. Thankfully there’s no other people around on this floor to witness your surely utterly disheveled state.

The dark glint is back in his eyes as he drags you along to your room number. He stops in front of the door and turns you towards him, his eyes trained on your face as he stares you down. His voice is low, his tone calm and controlled, but somehow it’s more threatening than if he shouted at you.

“You think you get to tell me what we can and can’t do? You think that’s for you to decide?” His hand grabs your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and you whimper. “N-no sir, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ He slaps your cheek, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough to shut you up. Enough to remind you of your place in this dynamic. Your eyes flicker around hastily, your mind acutely aware of the fact that you’re in a public setting and that someone could walk in on this at any time. His hold returns your face, forcing you to look at him again.

“You don’t think, sweetheart. I decide and you listen, isn’t that right? If I want you to show off that slutty little ass of yours for everyone to see, then that’s what you’ll do.”

You nod to your best ability with his hand still grasping your face, mumbling another, “I’m sorry, sir.” You can barely think, the heat between your thighs almost making your legs buckle at this point. His thumb moves to play with your bottom lip and a cruel smirk grows on his face.

“You will be, doll. This is the third time you’ve disrespected me today. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” You can’t help the way you subconsciously bite your lip and you know that your desire is written all over your face, your pupils probably blown wide and your cheeks hot.

“Christ,” he chuckles and seals your lips with another kiss, “you’re a fucked up little thing.” You can only nod, prompting another laugh from him.

He steps up beside you and digs a keycard out of his pocket, holding it up against the door that responds with an affirmative beeping sound and a lock clicking. He pushes the handle down and swings the door open, holding it for you, a hand on the small of your back as you tentatively take a few steps inside.

The gasp you let out now isn’t fueled by your arousal, which is momentarily forgotten, but by your utter inability to believe what you’re seeing. You’re standing in a small hallway which opens up into a gigantic living room that’s probably bigger than your entire apartment and completely lined with glass walls, revealing a balcony and the shimmering sea several floors below you. You slowly walk to the adjoining bedroom that houses the easily biggest bed you’ve ever seen and a continuation of the glass walls. From what you can see, the en-suite bathroom features a lot of white marble.

You turn back to Dave, who has followed you silently and seems to expectantly take in your every reaction. “You’re crazy,” you tell him and he grins as you struggle for words. “This is- it’s so expensive, it’s- it’s too much, really. You’re crazy,” you repeat and he walks up to you to take your hands. His thumbs rub little circles over the skin and he smiles softly.

“As I said, I wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it, sweetheart, you do.”

“But- but it’s-,” you trail off, mortified to realize that your bottom lip is trembling and your eyes are getting wet. You’re not going to cry in front of Dave, not because of a stupid hotel room. More like a fucking suite, your brain unhelpfully provides and your lip trembles harder. Dave quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, his eyes searching your face.

“But it’s what?” he implores, his features displaying a look of such genuine concern that you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen on him before. “Sweetheart, do you not like it?”

You shake your head, trying to think of some way to explain that doesn’t make you seem totally pathetic. “It’s-,” you draw a deep breath, “it’s just- this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Like, ever. I just can’t believe you would- for me…” You trail off, not sure how to explain that you can’t grasp why he would be willing to spend this amount of money on you. “What I mean to say is, it’s beautiful. Just- thank you. Really, thank you.”

You smile at him and the relief is incredibly evident on his face before he pulls you into a hug, his arms engulfing you, one hand stroking you head softly. For once, his hands don’t wander down your body, he just holds you tight and you allow yourself to think that you could get used to this.

You feel awkward after your little breakdown, but Dave doesn’t mention it again. He lets you traipse around the suite to explore and unpack and follows you when you step out onto the balcony where you inhale deeply, enjoying the salty air and the view down to the bay. You think that it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life and you flash a beaming smile at him.

“You like it?” he checks again and you nod eagerly. “Good,” he mumbles and steps up behind where you’re leaning against the railing, one of his arms finding its way around your middle and his head resting on your shoulder. “That’s good.”

You stay like that a little while, taking in the scenery in front of you in peaceful silence, listening to the sound of the waves that roll against the shore and watching as the sun is sinking lower, a soft golden light spreading out across the sky and reflecting in the water.

Eventually, one of his hands slowly starts gliding up your torso. He cups your breast and his fingers graze your quickly pebbling nipple. You moan quietly and instinctually push your hips back against his crotch and the growing hardness there, which causes him to chuckle as he bends down to run his lips over your neck, leaving small kisses and bites on the sensitive flesh.

You’ve been riled up and let back down so many times today that you feel a bit crazed at this point, the need for him between your legs downright painful as you grind your hips against him and another desperate moan escapes you. “Dave, please… I need you.” Your head falls back against his chest and his other arm loops around your middle, pressing you against him as he tuts softly.

“So needy that you’re forgetting all your manners, huh?”

He pinches your nipple, hard, before his hand sneaks higher and loosely wraps around your throat. The anticipation of what is -hopefully- finally about to happen has you feeling lightheaded. You don’t care that you’re outside, that anyone could look up and easily spot you on the balcony, you would let him fuck you right there, as long as he just finally fucks you at all. You haven’t given him an answer and the hold around you throat tightens. Not enough for any real pressure, but enough to remind you of the power he holds over you.

“Please, sir,” you whine and he chuckles again.

“Not yet, doll,” he whispers into your ear and his hand leaves your throat, then he turns you around until you’re face to face. You can see that he wants you too, it’s written on his features clear as day, and you can barely fathom his level of self-restraint right now. You open your mouth, ready to beg again, ready to beg for anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your thighs, but he shakes his head curtly and even in your lust-filled haze, you know better than to keep going and shut your mouth again.

He grins at your obedience and gives your lips a quick kiss. “Good girl. You’ll get everything you want soon enough, don’t worry. Just gotta be patient a little more, okay?” You nod, and dazedly let him take your hand and lead you back into the bedroom. “But first, we’re gonna have a nice dinner. Think you’re gonna need the energy, doll.” His grin turns downright feral and a small shudder runs through you. “Show me what pretty things you packed, yeah?”

You hum your agreement and turn to rummage through the closet, pick out a dress and fresh underwear and wander off into the bathroom. You half-expect him to stop you and make you change in front of him, but he doesn’t say a word. Maybe seeing you naked would be even too much for his restraint right now.

You change into the dress; it’s one of the new ones that you bought only last week while daydreaming about how Dave would take it off of you. It’s a short silk dress, dark red and with an open back that basically only consists of a several straps that form a loose pattern over your skin, which is why you forego a bra and only pull on a black thong, a lacy, barely there scrap of fabric. You also redo your makeup, adding a lipstick in a shade that matches the dress and freshen up your hair, then step out into the bedroom again.

Dave is still wearing the black slacks that he wore all day, but seems to have changed into a new, creamy white dress shirt, while you were busy in the bathroom. The top three buttons are open, which is one more than usual, exposing more of his broad chest than you’re used to and you know that you’re wearing an expression of awe on your face. He’s so beautiful. He always is, he’s stupidly attractive, really, but it’s hitting you especially hard right now, in these new surroundings and with the prospect of having him all to yourself for one whole week.

He’s eyeing you as well, his gaze roaming hungrily over your body. You become acutely aware of just how short the dress is, how much of your naked skin is on display. You like your body, and you’re not ashamed of showing it off, but this place is fancy. You know you look good, but suddenly, you feel a bit awkward. “Is- is this okay? Because, I-,” you stammer a little, “I didn’t expect this kind of hotel and you said- you said you wanted slutty, so…” You trail off, biting you lip nervously.

Dave’s gaze softens. It’s giving you whiplash, how quickly he switches between the domineering, controlled, sexually charged persona that he’s displaying around you most of the time, and this sweeter, caring side. The side that wants to do something nice for you. He takes a step towards you.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.”

You do, giving him a little twirl before turning back around and meeting his gaze. He looks… you don’t know how to describe it. The hunger for you that you’re familiar with is there, but it’s also something else, something… more. “You look perfect,” he assures you and you can’t help but believe him. Then he continues, “take off your underwear.” You blink at him and he cocks an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want any panty lines when you’re looking so gorgeous with that pretty dress.”

You know fully well that the tiny thong that you’re wearing isn’t leaving any panty lines, but you also know better than to argue. The thought of having nothing to protect your modesty under the very short hem of your dress makes you feel exposed, a little uneasy, which is probably exactly what he wants. Always testing your limits, always looking to see how far he can push you, how far you’d go to please him.

You slide your thong off and make to toss it in the direction of your suitcase, but he clicks his tongue and holds his hand out towards you. You put it into his waiting hand and he stuffs it into the pocket of his pants. You suppose that he’s planning something and that you’ll get to know about it when he wants you to, which isn’t now, so you keep your mouth shut and step closer to him. “Dinner?” you ask softly and lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. He returns the kiss, his tongue entering your mouth swiftly, giving you a taste of how much he wants you, before he pulls back and grabs your hand instead, leading you out of the suite and back to the elevator.

It’s just the two of you when you get on, but two floors down, you’re being joined by an elderly couple who you greet politely. As soon as their backs are turned to you, Dave’s hand is under your dress, running a finger through your slick folds. You manage to swallow your surprised gasp, but flinch slightly, and you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye. He slides his finger up and down your slit, brushing your already oversensitive clit a few times, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep the sounds inside that threaten to spill out of you.

When the elevator finally stops, he withdraws his hand and waits until the couple is a few steps away from you, until he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Good girl, learned your lesson I see. Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, your legs a bit wobbly and your arousal already leaking out of you.

“That’s right.” He pats your ass in a sort of condescending appreciation and you follow him into the dining area.

The hotel’s restaurant is located on the first floor, a beautiful, light-filled space that opens onto a big terrace which seems to float over the ocean and gives you a gorgeous view of the sunset’s colors that have become even more intense since you left your room. You’re being led to a small table for two and you gape at the view, causing Dave to laugh at you again, but it’s a warm laugh, that feels like he’s genuinely happy about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

You try reading through the menu, but you know maybe half of the things that are on there, much less how anything tastes or what you would prefer. You shoot Dave a sort of helpless look and he grins. “Want me to order for you?” he asks and you nod gratefully, trying not to feel embarrassed about how out of your depth you are. He orders something, along with a bottle of red wine, which you very much appreciate. You don’t know much about wine, but this one tastes really good. It turns out that he ordered some kind of fish for you, that you still have no idea how to pronounce right, but now you know that it’s freaking delicious. You tell Dave as much and he gives you another smile that seems much too soft and overwhelmingly right at the same time.

Dinner with him is much easier than you had anticipated. Apart from your excitement about the whole trip, you had been a little nervous about spending an entire week with him, having to make much more conversation than you usually do. It’s not that you never talk, but sooner or later, you end up naked with him whispering filth into your ear. You don’t go out on hour long dates, maybe a drink at a bar, but no big dinners and extensive talks. Until now.

Now you know that he’s a great listener, making you feel heard and understood, never once giving you the impression that you’re boring him. You also learn more about him, about his past, though he stays vague about his current job and the situation with his family. But it’s nice, being with him like this. Another thing that you could get used to, but that’s also another thought to shove into some far away corner of your mind. Be thankful for what it is, don’t become greedy for more, you tell yourself.

After two glasses of wine and a dessert that you could have died for, watching the sun set over the ocean until the night sky took over, you’re buzzing with happiness, but also excitement for the next part of the evening. The whole dinner was better than you could have imagined, but you have also been turned on for hours, with the man that you want right in front of you. When Dave finally stands up and pulls your chair out for you, you all but jump up and flit to his side. He chuckles and looks at your eager face. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. Tonight isn’t gonna be all that fun for you.”

The dark glint in his eyes is back and you’re subconsciously clenching your thighs together. The simple thought of what he might do to you is enough to push the arousal that has been simmering inside of you to the forefront of your mind again. You’re amazed how quickly he can sink back into that domineering character that could make you do almost anything with a simple snap of his fingers. He wasn’t like that at dinner, he didn’t once give you the impression that you’re below him or that he doesn’t respect you, separating this sexual dynamic that you’ve established from other parts of your interactions with clean precision.

He leads you out of the restaurant, his fingers grazing the bare skin on your back and you’re once again reminded that you’re completely bare beneath the skimpy dress that you’re wearing. His hand dips lower, playing with the hem that feels like it’s barely covering your ass. Goosebumps are forming on you lower back and your thighs and he chuckles darkly.

He keeps playing with your dress during the elevator ride, his fingers sliding underneath and grazing your ass repeatedly, until you’re fully riled up again. You’re a little nervous now. He promised to be rough several times today and you don’t doubt that he will. You’re excited as well, you want him rough, crave his control over you, but still…

He takes out the key card and opens the door as you follow him quietly, waiting for instructions. You can feel the tension rolling off of him. As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on you, crowding you back against it, his hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them up above your head while he leans down to capture your waiting lips.

The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongues as he devours your mouth, towering over you and keeping your wrists fixed to the door while his whole body is pressing into yours. You arch into him, helplessly trying to get him closer as you moan into his mouth when he bites at your lower lip, keeping it in between his teeth as he pulls back a little before letting it go. You whine, the quick stab of pain transforming into pleasure and traveling straight to your pussy, which causes you to spread your legs wider and grind your hips against him.

He gathers both your wrists in his large hand, still pressing them against the wall above your head, and lets his other hand roam over your body, grabbing at your waist, bunching up the dress there. “Looked so good tonight, all dolled up in your pretty dress…” he murmurs with his lips now dragging against the soft skin of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin, “and all this just for me, sweetheart?” He bites down right below your ear and your hips buck against him.

“Yes, yes sir, fuck…”

Your breath catches in your throat when he abruptly pulls the neckline down to expose your breasts and scratches his fingernails over your nipples. He pinches one hardened bud between his nails and pulls slightly before he lets go and watches how the flesh bounces back, then he repeats the motion on the other side. You’re gasping, tears are welling up in your eyes, it hurts, but it hurts so good, your pussy is completely soaked and you just want him to finally, finally fill you up.

Then he steps back, his jaw flickers as he watches you, still pressed against the door, panting softly and with a dazed expression on your face.

“Get on your knees.”

You get down immediately, hoping against hope that maybe he’ll let you come sooner when you’re being good now. He allows himself a cold smile at your eagerness and steps closer until you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He opens his belt and slacks in sure, controlled movements, the only evidence of his own need for you being the massive bulge that’s right in front of your face. He doesn’t waste time, shoving his pants and underwear down in one move and letting his cock spring free.

You gasp quietly, your mouth opening on its own accord at the sight of his massive length and you look up at him hungrily. “Open wide,” he tells you softly, almost gently and you obey, sticking your tongue out and watching mesmerized as he lets his tip rest on your tongue for a few moments. He pulls back slightly, smearing a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum across your cheeks, then slapping you with his cock, which causes you to moan. “Filthy little thing,” he murmurs and sinks into your wet mouth in one hard thrust.

You gag almost immediately, your throat contracting around him and he groans as he grabs your head and holds you still. Tears well up in your eyes and you already feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He finally lets go and you desperately suck in a lungful of air before he starts thrusting into your mouth again, hitting the back of your throat every time and causing you to choke around him. The way he pushes you around, uses you for his own pleasure has a new rush of wetness flooding your pussy and you’re itching to touch your clit, just a little bit.

He notices how you’re squirming beneath him, how one of your hands is inching closer between your legs and he stops his thrusts, his cock still taking up most of your mouth, and looks down at your face.

“You wanna touch yourself? You like having your face fucked like a whore?”

You nod as best as you can and hum desperately, gazing up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. He furrows his brow, looking down at you with that wicked glint in his eye. “You know how to ask properly, I didn’t hear you sweetheart,” he tells you, sinking even deeper into your throat and you fight to suppress another gag. You hum again and look at him pleadingly; he’s well aware that you can’t ask him anything with his cock filling your throat like this. “Guess you don’t want to, then,” he shrugs, “hands behind your back. You’re not touching that pussy without my permission.” You whine, your clit throbbing painfully for attention, but you obediently cross your wrists at the small of your back.

“Poor thing,” he coos and pats your head in mock-sympathy, then moves his hand back to hold you in place as he pounds into your throat with renewed force. You gag around him, tears flowing all over your face and drool streaming down your chin and onto your tits. He sinks into you again and again, holding you up by your head and making you sputter around him, desperate to somehow draw air into your lungs. “Take it,” he growls, “take it like the little slut you are, down on the floor for me. That’s how you like it, don’t you?” He finally pulls out of you and slaps your cheek when you don’t respond immediately. “Don’t you?!”

“Y-yes sir,” you rasp, gasping for breath, tears and spit still all over your face.

He crouches down cups the cheek that he just slapped, his thumb rubbing at the tear-stained skin under your eye. You’re positive that you look a mess, mascara running down your cheeks and your dark lipstick smeared all around your mouth, mixing with your spit. Your hands are still behind your back, the arch in your body making you push your chest out and putting your tits on full display for him. He starts toying with your nipples again and you want to cry. An orgasm feels so close, yet so far away. You feel like you could come with just a few strokes on your clit, but you have no idea how much longer he will string you along until he finally deems it enough.

“You’ve been such a good girl, sweetheart. So patient all day, I bet you’re dripping all down those pretty legs right now, aren’t you? So desperate and ready for me, yeah?” His voice is a low growl in front of you and you whine your agreement. It’s not enough for him. “Say it. Tell me how desperate my little slut is to finally get fucked.”

You hesitate, your eyes dropping to the ground in front of you. “I-,” you gasp as he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, waiting for you to do as he said. “I need you to fuck me, so badly. I’ll be so good, I promise, just p-please, sir,” you whine, feeling pathetic, your voice trembling and your face burning. No matter how many depraved things he gets you to do with him, for him, talking like this still gets you embarrassed. Which is precisely why he makes you do it.

“And what are you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Your s-slut, sir.”

He grins as he adds another slap against your cheek. “Damn right you are.”

He straightens back up, tugs himself back into his pants and looks down at you. “Bedroom.” You scramble to get up, but he shakes his head and lands a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down again. “No no. You’re gonna crawl.” You sink back on your hands and knees, the amount of embarrassment and arousal that you’re feeling making you dizzy, and you look up at him shyly.

He nods approvingly and bends down to tug your dress up higher until your bare ass and pussy are on full display. “Good girl, right where you belong. Off you go, come on.” You bite your lip and start crawling towards the bedroom, his footsteps right behind you and you can feel his eyes drinking you in as another groan grumbles in his chest.

You stop in front of the bed and give him a questioning look. He gestures for you to stand up and you get back to your feet with trembling knees. He steps closer, his hands ghosting over your shoulders and toying with the straps of your dress.

“Such a pretty dress,” he murmurs as he slides them off your shoulders, the garment slipping down your body, leaving you bare except for the heels that you’ve been wearing all evening. You’re painfully aware of the power dynamic between you, how you’re completely naked and at his mercy while he’s still fully dressed. His hands roam over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake and come to rest at your hips. He squeezes the flesh there, then turns you around until you’re facing the bed.

One hand reaches up to your neck and he bends you over until your upper body is resting on the mattress, your back arching and your ass up in the air for him. He takes a step back and lands a slap on your backside without warning. You yelp, your body instinctively lurching forward and your legs shaking with the strain of keeping your balance in your heels. He notices, of course, and says, “You better keep those pretty legs steady, doll,” before reaching forward and massaging your stinging flesh. You hum, trying to get your muscles to cooperate, but your legs won’t stop trembling.

Dave’s touch leaves your body and he sits down on the bed beside your head, his eyes searching your face. “What’s your color, sweetheart?” he inquires, softly stroking your cheek. “Green,” you answer without hesitation. It has already been a lot and you’re sure that he’s nowhere near finished with you, but you like it like this. You crave it. He nods, his touch still gentle on your face.

“And what do you say when you need me to stop?”

“Red,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “Good girl,” he murmurs and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, before he stands up again and disappears from your field of view.

“So,” his voice drawls from behind you, “I think I’ll give you twenty-five tonight, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” You gulp, but know that there’s only one acceptable answer.

“S-sounds good, sir. Thank you,” you breathe, the apprehension clear in your voice, and he laughs quietly.

“And what did you do to deserve this?”

You bite your lip again, struggling to think through the fog of arousal clearly enough to give him an answer that he’ll be satisfied with. “I d-didn’t listen and talked- talked back at you, and…” you trail off when his hand dips between your legs, swirling through the wetness there before retreating again. You inhale sharply and continue, “…and that was disrespectful. I’m sorry, sir, it won’t- it won’t happen again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dave mumbles and his fingertips ghost over your lower back. “But that was a nice little speech, sweetheart. Starting now, you’re gonna count them out for me, yeah? Lose count and we’ll start over.” You nod and your hands grip the sheets as you try bracing yourself.

The first slap meets your flesh, not as hard as you know he can go, but hard enough to get a small scream out of you. “One,” you force yourself to say and he hums appreciatively, before landing the second slap exactly on the same spot as the first one. “T-two,” you whine, his handprint searing on your skin.

You make it until eleven before your legs give out, your trembling muscles collapsing under the task of keeping you upright in your heels while your body is scrambling to get away from the oncoming assault on your ass cheeks. You fall forward, your knees hitting the mattress right after Dave’s hand connected with your backside again. “Twelve, I’m sorry, sir,” you choke out.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, stepping closer and running his hands soothingly over your back as he searches your face, a look of soft concern on his face. “What’s your color, doll?”

“Green. Still- still green, sir,” you breathe out and you mean it. You feel like you’re on fire, but in the best way.

“Yeah?” he questions, “want me to continue?” and you nod your head eagerly. The concern washes away from his face, his jaw tensing and his eyes growing cold again. “Fucking masochistic little slut,” he growls and you moan, your walls desperately clenching around nothing.

He lets you stay with your knees on the bed, your ass still up high for him, until you’ve finally reached “twenty-five, t-thank you, sir.” You’re sobbing at this point, your skin feels raw where he hit you, but you’re also damn near delirious with want for him.

Dave strokes your skin gently, telling you what a good girl you’ve been and how proud he is of you, and you bask in his praise. Then his hand travels lower, slipping between your thighs until his fingers are running through your folds, feeling how soaked exactly his rough treatment has left you. “Fuck doll, you’re dripping. You really liked that, huh?” he murmurs as he pushes two of his thick fingers into you, sliding in easily and making you moan loudly.

He thrusts into your tight heat roughly, causing you to arch your back and spread your legs wider, your release so close that you can almost taste it. He keeps going until he feels you growing tighter, starting to clench around his fingers, and slides them out of you abruptly. You sob, feeling your orgasm subside again.

“I think you were about to come without permission, sweetheart. You just promised me you’d be good, didn’t you? Guess your greedy little cunt just can’t help herself, huh?”

You whimper an apology and receive another slap to your abused skin, causing you to jerk forward. “No doll, you stay right here. Give me your hands,” Dave’s stern voice orders from behind you. You let him take hold of your wrists, leaving you completely at his mercy in the position that you’re in, and he digs your panties out of his pants pocket, looping them around your wrists until they’re tightly secured.

When he’s satisfied with his work, you finally hear the rustling of him taking off his clothes. Without warning, you feel him swipe the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing you with the tip, grazing your clit and causing you to gasp, then sliding back until he’s prodding at your entrance. You whine loudly and try pushing your hips backwards, but his hold tightens around you, keeping you in position.

“Not so fast. Be a good girl and beg for it,” he requests, in a voice that still sounds so controlled, while you feel like you’re barely able to form words anymore. You’re not embarrassed anymore, the promise of his cock so close to where you want him wiping all inhibitions from your mind.

“Please sir, I need you so badly, please fuck me, I’ll do anything, just please…”

You feel pathetic begging like this, but you couldn’t care less. Dave lets out a strained groan behind you, and then he’s pushing into you in one strong thrust. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him or how wet you are, his size always stings at the first intrusion and you wail, your body being pushed forward by his movement and he grips your bound wrists, holding you steady as he starts pounding into you.

“So fucking tight and wet you little slut, fuck you take me so good, being such a good girl, fuck…” Now his voice sounds wrecked behind you and you moan loudly at his words and at the way he’s splitting you open. This is what you had been craving for hours, the feeling of him thrusting into you again and again, and you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, to get him even deeper.

One of his hands grips your hair and pulls, forcing you to arch your back even more and slightly shifting the angle where he’s pounding into you, hitting something so delicious inside of you that you almost come on the spot, your walls already fluttering around him, but you’re not allowed, your scrambled brain reminds you, you need…

“Please sir, I’m gonna come, can I please…” Your voice breaks off into a sob when his movements slow down and he pulls out of you, pushing you forward until you’re laying flat on the bed, and he starts working on releasing your bound wrists.

“Good girl, asking for permission,” he praises, “but you’re gonna look me in the face when I make you come tonight.”

He frees your wrists and turns you around so that you’re on your back, looking up at him through teary eyes, desperate for your release. “Poor thing,” he coos as he gets between your legs, placing his large hands on your thighs and spreading them wide. His cock nudges at your entrance but he doesn’t sink back into you, his gaze trained on your face and his hand wandering up to play with your bottom lip.

“Open wide,” he tells you and you obey, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out. His breath has turned heavy by now and he hovers over you, hungry eyes roaming over your face, your open mouth and your wet eyes. He draws back the tiniest bit, then he spits into your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue and you whine, the filth of the whole situation making your pussy clench once more.

“Keep it open, show me.”

You hold still, your mouth wide open, feeling his spit mixing with yours as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. “Now swallow,” he finally says and you do, showing him your empty mouth afterwards and he grins. “Fuck, you’re such an obedient slut, being such a good girl for me. You’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you? Fucked all the thoughts out of that pretty little head, yeah?”

“Yes, anything,” you whimper, and he sinks his cock back into you without preamble. Your eyes widen at the sensation of being full again and the new angle, moans of his name falling from your mouth and you wrap your legs around him, grasping at his wide shoulders to hold onto something as he starts pounding into you again with raw strength.

One of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing until you feel light-headed, intensifying the feeling of his deep thrusts into you. Pleading whispers leave your lips, but you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, if you want more, if you want him to stop.

His movements speed up even more, hitting spots inside of you that have you moaning and squirming underneath him and the hand on your throat travels down to your breasts, toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling and sending delicious waves of pain through you.

You’re so close again, when his hand slides down to rub at your clit, making you scream and throw your head back, your eyes pinched close. He grabs at your face and forces you to look at him.

“Oh no, you’re gonna look me in the eyes when I make you come, are you gonna come sweetheart?”, he growls. You whine and nod desperately, your eyes shining with tears. “Go ahead then, come for me, squeeze my cock like the good little whore you are.”

He swirls his thumb over your neglected clit once more, gives you a particularly hard thrust and your vision swims, your whole body tensing up before you bear down on him and fall apart. You’re clenching rhythmically around his cock as the orgasm tears through your body in pulsing waves and you’re pulling him over the edge with you as he climaxes with a deep moan, spilling his release inside of you.

You’re a trembling mess, your breath stuttering and your mind still caught up in a blissful haze, and you’re only vaguely aware of him collapsing beside you, but you register the tender kiss that he presses to your cheek before he gets up and retreats to the bathroom.

The next thing you feel is the bed dipping as he sits down beside you again and you slowly blink your eyes open. Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss that you’re still lost in, but you think to yourself that he looks especially beautiful right now, his face relaxed with a small smile playing around his mouth, where the stubble of his beard is showing through at the end of the day, and with his brown eyes warm again now as he looks at you.

“May I?” he asks and holds up a damp towel. You nod, returning his smile and watching as he brings the towel down between your legs, cleaning you up and soothing your hot skin. He gently turns you over and spreads some kind of healing balm over your burning cheeks, careful not to touch you too roughly. He also cleans your face, his soft touches almost enough to lull you to sleep.

When he’s finished, he maneuvers you around, causing you to giggle, until you’re in the middle of the bed and he can pull the covers over you, sliding in beside you and wrapping his arm around your middle. You shuffle closer until you’re securely tugged into his side, your breath fanning against his broad chest.

“You good?” he asks, looking down at you and placing a kiss on your forehead. “Yeah,” you smile up at him and stretch to reach his mouth with your lips. He kisses you back, his hand coming up to play with your hair, and you smile even wider. As much as he likes to be rough with you, you think that what he actually needs, is the softness.

series masterlist

if you enjoyed reading this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! <3

#dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

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judeyswife · 2 months

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not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader. II

genre : angst

word count : 928

note : hii lovies, this is official part two of the series not what im looking for !!! (part one) please let me know of what yall think in the comments! there will be a part 3 guys so don't worry, but it'll probs be a wrap up for this mini series since i want to get started on some other fics too + made a few format changes and writing from author's pov this time -- but thats it! enjoyyy! requests box always open !!

‏‏‎ ‎ ———————————————————-‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎

"i'm sorry"

it's horrendous how fast people switch up. or i'd say men, in this case. it's been roughly about six months since that conversation had happened. it was honestly one of the worst days in your whole life. i mean, yeah you'll get through it. but why? every once in a while you think about what did she have that you didn't.

but this is a topic that hasn't been brought up in about a month. and a certain individual isn't mentioned anymore in your life thank the lord.

you have gone to a beach house near where you live with a few of your best friends, layla, jess, and liv. yall needed this vacation after months of torture. or studying.

they've been with you since day one. truthfully you'd say who needs a relationship when you have your homegirls?

"Y/N, come here right fucking now." -- layla screamed from our room in the house.

you could literally think she had been getting murdered with the way she was screaming honestly.

"oh my god what!"

"whats his name posted a fucking video of missing someone LOOK."

who? jude.

you sit next to her curiously taking her phone from her hands in order for you to take a look at the tiktok she was trying to show you.

( for the sake of the story, jude has tiktok xoxo )

you were shocked. who genuinely who would've though that he'd actually miss us? it didn't even sound right thinking about it.

"maybe it's about her layla" you shrugged getting up to grab your water bottle from her desk.

"are you stupid girl, he's obviously thinking about you, i mean look at his caption." - 'didn't think a situationship could hurt more than an actual relationship' don't be a fool y/n"

liv and jess had entered the room a few minutes ago listening to the conversation making liv enter the conversation.

"ain't no way he has the nerve to do that bullshit on social media"

you stood there listening to them diss jude for about 5 minutes straight. but your lost in your thoughts. i mean, why would he ever miss something he supposedly never had? it's genuinely so draining and confusing.

"guys just drop it, its whatever. lets just go hang out at the hot tub, i really fucking need it"

your friends just looked at one another not saying a single word. they knew better. not to make you sound like a maniac or anything, but they knew how you were with bottling up your feelings. jude was a sensitive topic for you. they didn't want to be the cause of ruining your vacation over some dumb tiktok captions. they simply agreed with you and started getting changed to go out the the hot tub.

•

it had been a few hours since you last seen your phone and you're now inside getting ready to have dinner with the girls and settling down. so you took these few moments, unlocked your phone and checked out what you had missed.

you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out who this number could possibly belong to. since you and layla are sharing a room for the trip, she was getting ready at her vanity and noticed your confused expression.

"y/n what's up?" -- asking you meanwhile putting a face mask on.

"i don't know, this random number just texted me with my name i'm just hella confused"

"that's weird. ask who it is obviously"

you nodded listening to what she had advised you to do.

you had this conversation silently without saying a word to layla about who this "mystery person" was. mainly because you wanted to fight your own battles. i mean you basically already had jess and liv involved. not that your mad at them or anything, you know they want what's best for you. clearly they're on team jude. those girls.

"who was it?" layla said getting up from her chair to grab her phone from the charger near her bed. "no one important, they got the wrong number and person" you honestly don't know how she believed you. you hate to admit but you were feeling jittery after having that conversation with jude after so long. even if it was barely a conversation.

you hated that you needed to lie to layla, but you truly believed it was honestly for the best. when you and jude were talking, they knew every single detail about the relationship you had with jude. and by they i mean your friends and his friends. always involved. one of the main issues why miscommunication was lacking horribly in your relationship. so that's why you want a new beginning. not just to "lie" to your friends but to feel the sense of control in your life. even if tomorrow was the last conversation you had with jude, you wanted to keep the moment to yourself.

•

without saying a word to anyone, you and jude had been chatting it up all night. just a catch up with each other. you guys went from telling every detail of your day to each other, to not saying a single word for months to each other. it felt nice being able to slowly regain that comfort you once had when you guys would text or facetime all night long.

you were honestly praying for the best in tomorrow's conversation, you had no idea what it could lead up to.

but the overthinking was done on your pillow all night long, plus his texts of course.

#Spotify #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fan fic #jude bellingham one shot #bellingham x reader #football x reader #bellingham angst #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham angst #footballer x reader #football fanfic #football angst #real madrid #judeyswife

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bestygogirl · 3 months

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BEST YGO GIRL: SEMI FINALS

Match 2

please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.

Propaganda under the cut!

Isis Ishtar

gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm

anyways. not only as mentioned above is she the first woman to make kaiba squirm, but she was by all means going to beat him if not for the millennium rod's millennium interference. yami marik admits that she's a strong duelist with a strategy that's been working for literal years-- and given that she's not like, a professional duelist, thats pretty impressive

she also recently got some really cool meta bumps and let me point out that an "ishizu deck" now includes obelisk the tormentor-- which we knew she had prior to giving it to kaiba, but i think it only solidifies my opinion that she very much could wield an Egyptian God Card, an exclusive little club for top tier duelists

as a character she presents herself with an amazing amount of poise and grace, shes compassionate and kind and stays with mai and serenity even though she only just met them. shes struggling through living the past 5 years of her life drowning in guilt for her family's tragedy just because she wanted to make her little brother happy and shadi is a fucking liar. shes foretold her own death and marches towards it grimly but with so much love in her heart. and even then shes 20 years old and holds an important position in the egyptian government that typically requires a doctorate degree AND has been dealing with mariks off-and-on bullshit entirely by her lonesome. she also likes to flex her fortunetelling a little which is awesome i think she should do that more that scene where she tells the guy exactly how the stele is being transported was so everything

speaking of shes got such an attitude. "is it your destiny to waste my time?" iconic. never seen before will never be seen again. watch the duel between her va and joeys its so fucking funny

shes excult. shes doesnt flinch in the face of god nor death. seto kaiba and yami marik respect her. shes so sad and so sweet and battle city couldnt have happened without her.

also her parallels with kaiba are what motivate kaiba to give yugi the card he needed to beat marik.

kaiba, in duelist kingdom, was ready to jump off a ledge if yugi didnt let him through to face pegasus while trying to save mokuba out of sheer desperation to save his little brother. he KNOWS what that dedication feels like and the iron kind of will you need to have to make that kind of gamble. isis is being so fucking legit with what shes saying and he respects that and her judgement enough to change his mind and not only watch the duel, but give yugi a card that eventually helps him win, even if he has no real confidence in the odds. but theres a CHANCE, which is the same thing he taught her when he beat her in a duel. the layers its her faith that moves him to act. which is so crazy

anyway vote isis shes my best friend forever and a real rep for all the 20 year olds who honest to god did not sign up for this bullshit

Aki Izayoi

An abuse victim who isn't the perfect passive figure but gets to work through her complicated feelings about power, agency, and family. Even with Yusei's help, she is the star of the show when she learns to control her powers and reconciles with her father, it is so fun that a ygo heroine gets to take such an antagonistic role bu not be shamed for her anger

please vote for my main girl, aki izayoi. aki was led to believe she was a monster from a young age by her father, who treated her powers like it made her unworthy of love. as a result, divine was able to swoop in and take advantage of aki's low self esteem. for years, aki believed herself unworthy of love and was molded into a living weapon at the hands of authority figures in her life. she was taken advantage of, and thus when she finally comes face to face with yusei, she refuses to believe he could provide her with unconditional friendship. who would want to be around a monster, after all?

aki also nearly beats yusei TWICE in a duel, bringing it down to a single turn difference. she comes toe to toe with him, and it truly is the result of who dueled better. she remains a fierce duelist, btw. the second season, aki gets her duel runner license, and immediately nearly beats the ass of a tournament winning turbo duelist - to the point where once again, a single card is the deciding factor. that's right: she nearly won. if not for a single trap card, aki izayoi would've won.

a fierce duelist who was shaped into a loving, caring woman despite years of being beaten down by the world: aki izayoi. vote for her now on your phones.

#best ygo girl poll #semifinals #yugioh duel monsters #isis ishtar #ishizu ishtar #yugioh 5ds #aki izayoi #akiza izinski

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therainscene · 1 year

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It’s funny that Bylers are so often accused of being delusional, because I was at my most delusional when I was anti-Byler.

I spent most of S4 refusing to acknowledge that Will had romantic feelings for Mike, despite knowing damn well what all that love triangle imagery and sad gay pining was implying. I convinced myself it was just bros before hoes drama; that perhaps Will wanted to come out to his best friend but felt nervous after six months of radio silence following “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

The van scene forced me to accept that he really was in love, and it pissed me off because what was even the point of making him fall for a straight boy?

Mike’s bizarre “no homo” behaviour was clearly a symptom of growing up in a conservative 80s household, and witnessing Will’s sacrificial act of love in the van was the shitty lesson he needed to get over his homophobia.

I saw a typical straight male protagonist in an 80s coming-of-age film getting to coast his way to self-actualization on the back of queer suffering; a cruel and homophobic trope I thought we’d moved past by the year 2022.

But then the NINA reunion scene rolled around--

--and I immediately picked up on the heavy parallels between Mike and Will in how they greeted El. The realization hit me like a tonne of bricks: Mike feels the same way about her as Will does.

I thought, “wait, does this mean I was wrong about...? Oh my god. No way.

No fucking way.

Will was in love with El this whole time?? What the fuck, he’s been gay since S1 and she’s his sister this is BULLSHIT I will personally strangle the Duffers--”

Heteronormativity is a hell of a drug, kids.

Let this be a lesson to those of you who think media illiteracy is to blame for Byler denial -- how well someone understands the mechanics of storytelling is irrelevant if they insist on treating Mike’s supposed heterosexuality as an axiom instead of an evidence-based conclusion. The issue lies with bias, not literacy.

I was stubbornly anti-Byler because I knew I’d immediately fall in love with this ship if I allowed myself to have hope it could be canon, and the general state of queer rep in mainstream media meant I was all but guaranteed to get hurt if I was so stupid as to have hope. But in my desperation to cling to the “safe” heteronormative outcome, I only ended up hurting myself with my own silly assumptions.

We’ve seen both canonically gay characters in the show make exactly this mistake, needlessly hurting themselves with their silly but self-defensive assumptions about their love interests.

Stranger Things absolutely nails its depiction of the subtler ways internalized homophobia can manifest -- Will may feel like a mistake and be prone to beating himself up, but he isn’t some pitiful self-loathing queer who wishes he was straight, either. He’s just so crushed by heteronormativity that he accepts it as an inescapable fact of life and lets it guide his beliefs and actions.

Don’t get me wrong: Will, like Robin, is very sensible for being cautious in such a horrifically bigoted environment -- trying to openly defy that level of homophobia by yourself, especially when you’re young, is a bad idea.

But unlike Robin, he clearly struggles to accept that he has the right to chase his same-sex love interest. He's no longer simply exercising caution, but conforming to homophobic standards -- much in the same way I thought I was sensibly refusing to be queerbaited, when really I was just agreeing with the heteronormative status quo.

I realize now that this is the real reason Will was written into a homophobic 80s trope: not to teach Mike an outdated lesson in acceptance, but to maneuver Will into position for the lesson he’s going to learn in S5 about resisting conformity.

Will needs to learn that castrating himself to make straight people comfortable is a bad idea too. Not only is that a miserable way to live his life, but what sort of world is he leaving for the next generation of queer kids if he never questions these homophobic standards?

It’s just the cycle of abuse scaled up to the societal level.

This is what gives me confidence in Byler endgame. Queerness isn’t just an incidental element of Will’s personal arc, but suffuses the show to its very core -- it’s in its themes, its allegory, its characters.

So Will getting the boy isn’t just nice fan-service for Byler shippers, but a necessary ending if the show’s most important lesson is to land:

That it’s rewarding to make the difficult choice of standing up to bigotry in the face of forced conformity. Of choosing love.

Could it be the case that I was right the first time, and Stranger Things is going to turn out to be yet another heteronormative mainstream show that doesn’t commit to its own themes? Sure, maybe. But that wouldn’t invalidate the valuable lessons this show has already -- and apparently accidentally lol -- taught me.

Anyone who calls us deluded for hoping a mainstream show is going to have a gay pairing as its main couple just doesn’t realize -- or doesn’t care -- that they’re contributing to the very problem they’re describing.

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #robin buckley #my analysis

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yveaart · 3 months

Text

how to lose a guy in 10 days !! csc (teaser)

choi seungcheol x reader

genre : fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, jealousy (?), fake relationship, bets (yk how the movie goes), profanities

warnings : mdni, proceed with causion bc this is my first actual svt fic it might be shitty. not proofread lol

and just like clockwork their brains clicked and hovered over your cubicle. poor u so startled that you almost gagged on your coffee.

“what?” you shooted

“are we gonna meet boyfriend number 13?” karina said in a sing song voice

“more like fling number 17?” sakura retorted

“maybe a first situationship since she haven’t experienced one yet” yunjin said curiously

“jesus christ i’ve had that much men and i’m not gay yet?” you said surprised

“maybe you just need a new set up?” yunjin asked

“like what doggy style?” karina questioned

“not like that you idiot” sakura glared

“maybe i’m just meant to end up in a church and dedicate my life to holiness” you huffed

“please you would burn the moment you step in a cathedral” sakura laughed

“well i just know how every relationships end, it’s almost like completing all endings for a video game, its predictable and cliche” you sighed

“let’s welcome fling number 17 then” karina announced

right now you just actually need to see if theres a guy out there in the world who could actually commit and actually accept a persons flaws out of love.

all too cheesy but you would like to find a partner who would find no flaws in you and probably just call them your little unique antiques that they can live with.

why did god even create men to accompany themselves if they’re preferences and expectations are for the deities taste themselves.

“OH MY GOD I GOT IT!” yunjin screamed making all your peers look over to your area

“what is it?” you asked dying for a solution

“what if you meet a guy and just unfling him?” she said as if there was a light bulb above her head

“yall need to make her stop doing overtime” sakura deadpanned

“NOO, like you’re talking all these commitment things all the time then what if you find a random guy and make him not fall in love with you and see if he stays?” she said

“i guess thats not all bad” karina suggests

“you should wear your best outfit tonight because we will find your lucky target then y/nnie” sakura winked at you before discussing the plans with yunjin and karina

it was not long until the night came as you got ready, you scoffed on how stupid this bet is because it’s like you claimed “very predictable and cliche” to lose a guy.

you grew tired, what was the point, you knew your fate then you should probably accept it now.

you drank your last shot for tonight planning your weekend with whole lots of tubs of ice cream until you flinched by karina grabbing your arm.

the most goddamn, drop dead gorgeous man came to sight.

“isn’t that choi seungcheol?” sakura stating a rhetorical question

“they said no one could ever bag him up” yunjin replied

“ooh sounds like one of y/n’s guys” karina giggled.

“are you up for it then?” sakura challenged you

“please this will probably come by a breeze, so? 100 bucks each?” you winked as the three of them agrees after a total chaos.

“choi seungcheol, let the games begin” you muttered

comment to be included on the taglist !!

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whatwouldsylwrite · 11 months

Text

At least I got you in my head (5)

(4)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: sexual themes (not with Abby), Vi from Arcane is here to make you feel better. You and Abby make decisions that rub the wrong way. Mention of reader having a complicated skin care routine that Abby doesn't understand. Also, the girl in the end is Kara Danvers from supergirl; she is never described/mentioned.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl @ninazenuk @urmomsgirlfriend1 @sunkissedbibi @couchgarbage @nil-eena @inlovewithelliewilliams @st4rluvrr @mai5mai @machetegirl109 @azelmawrites (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Yoon Jiwoo was a little scary, but you liked how reserved she was: she didn't ask you for anything, didn't try to get to know you deeply, just polite small talk and a few jokes. Instead of coffee she asked you to come and help her with dinner, and you agreed, fully understanding the implications.

The implication number one: your chin covered in her slick while she mewled above you and tugged on your hair.

The implication number two: you sprawled out on her bed, shaking after the second orgasm.

She was teasing you a lot, which wasn't something you necessarily liked in bed, but it suited her so you rolled with it (not like you had a choice, pinned under her).

Jiwoo kissed you goodbye and you went home at 1 am on Sunday, feeling a little better.

Like your world wasn't spinning around Abby, like you could start moving on and be happy while living with the best roommate you could wish for. There were other girls, available girls, and you didn't have to suffer. Were you available though? Well, not yet. But eventually your feelings would go away, you were sure of it.

When you came home you expected Abby to be asleep already - you told her you'd be late - but she was in the living room, playing Doom, frowning in concentration as she eviscerated her enemies. She looked good like this, in her grey sweats and muscle tee, her braid resting on her shoulder. Fuck, why were you like that? You just fucked someone, weren't you supposed to fantasise about Jiwoo right now and not drool over your roommate? Jiwoo had great arms too, and she was hot too, and she was the one to fuck you.

God you really were too deep in it if Abby in muscle tee was more exciting than literal orgasms.

You took a breath to calm yourself down and knocked on the door frame, careful not to scare Abby with your presence. She looked up and paused the game, taking her headphones off. She looked a little tired and you knew she wasn't supposed to be up this late.

"Hey. Why are you not in bed yet?" You sat next to her on the couch, your knee touching her thigh.

"Was waiting for you." Abby murmured and rubbed her neck. "I wanted to make sure you'd come home safe."

Fuck you and how caring you are, you thought desperately. Jiwoo also told you to text her when you'd be home, why weren't you thinking of this? Why weren't you texting her right now?

"Well, I am." You smiled a little. "You should go to sleep, Abby. You'll be grumpy in the morning."

"Yeah. Are you hungry? I made pasta."

"You can't do this to me, seriously." You said dramatically and let Abby guide you to the kitchen.

She heated up the food for you and made herself tea after you gave her shit for wanting to drink coffee at 1am.

"How was it?" Abby asked politely and you tensed.

"Great."

"Just great?" Abby laughed kindly.

"Yeah, well. Stress relief is stress relief." You chuckled, not really understanding why Abby was curious about your sex life.

It hurt a little, that while you hooked up with Jiwoo to get Abby out of your system, she was now trying to make small talk about it.

Abby must've noticed your reluctance, because her teasing grin fell.

"Sorry, I'm so used to Ellie waxing poetry about her hookups so for some reason I expected you to do that too." Abby smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, don't worry. I just don't kiss and tell, you know. Unless you want a crush course in lesbian sex." You winked, curious if you'd make her shy, and yeah, Abby's cheeks were just slightly pink.

"I mean, Ellie talks so much about girls I feel like I could give you a crush course."

You laughed: bantering with Abby was easy and familiar and you felt a bit better, and not in love at all. Just two gals being pals.

You were lying in your bed and you couldn't fall asleep as you were going back to this weekend. You felt like the whole hookup with Jiwoo was just some kind of revenge, a knee jerk reaction to Abby breaking your little air castles where you two were in love and happy together. You told Cait you wouldn't use other people to get over Abby, but even though the thing with Jiwoo was mutually beneficial, it didn't make you feel any better. Especially since it only gave you relief that lasted until you came home.

It was a bad idea to begin with and now you regretted it a little. The sex was great, and you had a lot of fun, but the motivation behind it made you question your choice. You had to deal with your hurt before you tried to weave other people into it.

It was Monday and you decided it was time for plan B: get distracted by getting another student. Work was good, work meant mind exercises and money. Usually you'd get recommended by your previous students, but sometimes your professors would ask you to help someone out, and today was the day when you got lucky.

Your professor caught you in the corridor while you were walking to your next class and you got scared at first - did you miss an assignment and were losing your points?

"I gave your number to one of my students, she is smart but she had to miss a lot of classes. She needs to pass the test at the end of November, can you help her?"

"Yeah, of course." You nodded politely.

"Thanks." Your professor patted you on the shoulder and hurried to her next class. God, she was always running like a headless chicken and you adored that chaotic energy in her. She was a very talented teacher, she asked for a lot, but she always gave second chances, so if this girl got her to let her improve her grade, then you'd do your best to help her.

Also, you thought as you watched the hottest fucking person walk through the doors of the library on Wednesday afternoon, you'd have to do your best and keep it in your pants.

She was built very similar to Abby, the same defined arms and wide shoulders, and she had tattoos. Her nose was pierced and even the bright pink hair looked organic.

Even the way she walked was hot - Abby was always commanding, and your new student (she was bee lining to your table) walked confidently, like she didn't fucking care and like she knew she was hot.

Oh this one wasn't straight. No straight girl had the same energy as her. No, this kind of confidence came from wanting to attract a different kind of attention, the attention straight girls didn't seek and didn't need.

You sat more straight in your seat as the girl came closer, and for some reason you expected her to be cocky, but she smiled at you and you melted.

"Hi. You are (y/n)?" You nodded and the girl sat next to you. "I'm Vi."

"Nice to meet you." You said, trying to play it cool. Not only she was hot as fuck, she also seemed sweet? "Prof said you need to pass the test?"

"Yeah. I need at least B on this, and I don't understand a thing." Vi chuckled. "I read at home, but it all sounds fucking insane."

You laughed.

"Which part? I bet it's Kant."

"More like cunt if you ask me." Vi mumbled and you laughed again.

"Okay. Let's start from the beginning and then Kant will make more sense later on. Are you going to have only western philosophy on your test or do we need to cover everything?"

"I think it's only western."

You put your professional face on and tried to ignore how hot Vi was as best as you could, but judging by her little knowing smirk she was fully aware of her affect on you - though you didn't really mind. She was hot and sweet and made you feel something else except fucking sadness and desperation.

Maybe you could get both distractions this time, you thought as Vi smiled at you and looked a little lower than what would be considered friendly.

This week Abby spent way too invested in talking to Owen. They texted regularly and Abby found herself checking her phone every five minutes. He excited her: Abby liked his attention and his jokes, and it didn't happen often to her. Boys were more annoying than enjoyable, so when she'd meet a guy who was actually cool she tried not to pass the opportunity.

And now when she was spending so much time on Owen she didn't get her weird panics around you anymore. Abby still enjoyed cuddling with you and talking to you, but now she felt safe to do that, when she had an outlet to deal with her loneliness. She could cuddle you and then go to Owen to get her healthy fix of sex and intimacy.

Not that Abby planned to, but knowing she had an escape made her feel more confident, as if she separated her affectionate side from her lonely horny side.

from: (y/n)

r u home?

can you meet me downstairs?

I need help

Abby locked her phone and went to the hallway to put her doc martens and a coat - the third week of October wasn't really warm. She quickly made her way downstairs, a little worried about what you needed help with.

You were standing in front of the stairs with two big plastic bags and Abby just stared at you.

"You okay?" She asked with doubt. Why did you buy two full bags of groceries? Why did you even go without her when it was her job to do all the heavy lifting in the house? "You should've called me."

"I didn't plan to go grocery shopping, I just wanted to buy the cookies, but I spiralled." You shrugged. "Can you help me carry them?"

Abby took all the bags, not letting you touch them at all even when you protested ("equal labour, come on" "you're hunched in your chair 24/7 you have the back of a grandma, chill"). You made light small talk while you went upstairs, Abby told you about her classes and how annoyed she was with some of them: she liked to bitch about stuff with you because you bitched right back without trying to cheer her up. You just understood Abby's need to vent.

Abby took her shoes off and went to the kitchen so she could start unloading the bags. You were still shuffling in the hallway when she opened the bag and stared into the inside.

"What the fuck?" Abby mumbled as she looked over the whole bag filled with her favourite protein bars.

By that point you came to the kitchen and had the audacity to look like you didn't understand why Abby was shocked.

"Oh, yeah. They were on sale."

Abby stared at you.

"So you bought the whole aisle?"

"You burn through them like they're made of oxygen, come on." You said, embarrassed, and Abby laughed.

"You're insane." Abby chuckled and came closer, holding your face in her warm hands so she could pepper your face with small kisses.

"Thanks." Kiss. "You're ridiculous." Kiss. "I l-"

Abby's words got stuck in her throat: she couldn't finish this sentence. She didn't know why, but it felt like she meant something way different from what it was supposed to mean between friends. It didn't seem like you've noticed, so Abby kissed your forehead and moved away, making herself pay attention to your pleased face instead of wallowing in her anxiety.

"Did you really get the whole aisle?"

"I took every pack they had, yes. It was on sale, pretty good deal if you ask me."

"Whatever you say mathematician." Abby chuckled and helped you put other groceries in their place.

She couldn't stop herself from smiling: you cared. You remembered small things about her the same way she remembered small things about you (she made sure to buy you your favourite cookies every time she was shopping), and it was so warming. She felt her heart grow with l-

Why couldn't she use this word for you? God, she thought she was over her stupid panic. It was okay to love her friends. It was okay.

Maybe she should hook up with Owen again.

Vi asked you to come to her place for your fourth lesson - she had training before and she would have been late for the lesson if she had to go to the library from there. You didn't mind so you put your books into your bag and went over to her place.

Vi told you she lived with her younger sister, and you saw the pictures around the apartment: it seemed like bright hair was a theme here.

Vi's room was a little bigger than yours, and was surprisingly aesthetic with decor. There were a lot of drawings ("my sister drew them") and her table was kinda cluttered, but she quickly freed some space so you could put your books somewhere.

Being in Vi's room made you tingle. It was obvious to both of you how attractive you found each other, and you couldn't shake the thought she invited you for a different reason with the amount of tension between the two of you.

You were sitting pretty close, her strong jean-clad thigh pressed against yours, but you tried to not pay attention to it and focus on the lesson. So far Vi's been an excellent student, not shy to ask you the same question as many times as she needed, getting to the bottom of it no matter what. Sometimes you had to change your usual explanation so Vi would understand, and putting your brains to work made you feel good.

"Okay, okay, I've got it. Fucking mental gymnastics." Vi sighed as she wrote her answer on a test sample. "Check."

You read her answer and smiled: it was perfect.

"Good job." Vi’s eyes lit up.

"I want a reward." Vi said and you chuckled before picking up your pen and writing a good job with a star on her paper.

"Good enough?" Vi chuckled at this and moved closer to you, putting her elbow on the table to support herself. "Something else?" You were teasing her, you knew, but you were so curious how it’d play out.

"Yeah, I have a better idea." She murmured as she moved her face closer to yours, waiting for you to give her green light. You smiled and moved closer, enjoying her wide eyes and a pleased smirk.

Vi kissed you and you lost your breath for a moment, shocked by how gentle and tentative she was. She was sweet, god she was sweet. If it wasn't for one stupid straight blonde in your life you could have fallen in love with Vi just from the way she kissed.

You moved away, feeling guilty: you didn't really know what Vi wanted from you, and she didn't deserve to be fucked over because you were an idiot who was in love with their roommate.

"Hey-hey. Wait a second."

"Did I misread the situation?" Vi asked, worried, searching your face for an answer.

"No. But I'd like to know what you want from this, so we could be on the same page."

"I just think you're hot."

"Nothing serious?"

"No?" Vi looked like she was scared she'd hurt your feelings with her words, but you only sighed in relief.

"Good. Because I think you're hot too." Vi smirked at this and kissed you again, holding your neck with her palm as she stroked your jaw with her thumb. "Is this why you asked me to come here today?"

"No." Vi laughed as she squeezed your hips and moved you to her lap, pressing you closer. God she was strong. "But now I think past me was a genius."

You chuckled and kissed her again, burying your fingers in her soft hair as she pushed her hands under your shirt. Vi sighed into your mouth and you smiled while your hips started to live their own life, grinding against Vi. You were stupidly turned on by how strong and sweet she was, so careful with how she touched you, as if you were not a one night stand but the love of her life.

"You're gentle." You commented when Vi carefully placed you on the bed.

"I get that a lot." Vi grinned and you rolled your eyes playfully. "Tell me what you want."

You smiled at that and tugged her shirt off, staring hungrily at her abs and tattoos. She looked like she could destroy you and put you back together and your stomach burned while your eyes went dark with desire.

"Fuck me.”

---

“You sure you don’t want to come?” You asked and Abby snapped out of watching you get ready in front of the mirror. Abby came to chill out in your room as you went through your wardrobe to find something that’d work for a Halloween party.

“I’m not feeling it.” What Abby actually meant: Owen was getting a little too aggressive with his attempts to ask her out and she didn’t want to run into him.

“Well, you know how they say, you just need to come and the mood will come too.”

“No, really, I just want to stay home today. But you have fun, you’ve been working the whole week, you need it.”

You’ve been coming home late the past few days, having more lessons than usual, and Abby felt bad for you. At least you seemed to be in a good mood most of the time, more relaxed and happy than the previous week, and Abby was glad the amount of work wasn’t taking a toll on you.

“Thanks, Abby.” You smiled in the mirror and Abby smiled back. She couldn’t look away from you, a little fascinated by your little rituals with all the skin care products you were using. Sometimes she asked you questions about especially weird things she saw in your hands, but otherwise she stayed quiet and just watched you.

Abby never really was a girly girl, with no desire to learn how to apply makeup or to wear skirts, and when she was a teenager a lot of people liked to tell her if she didn’t get more feminine she’d never find a boy, because boys liked everything she didn’t. And listen, she tried. She even learned how to use eye liner, but when she looked at herself in the mirror she felt like a clown, and she decided the potential boy in her life wasn’t worth trying to become someone she wasn’t. But even if Abby herself didn’t care about doing girly things, she liked watching other girls do their magic: how Ellie painted her nails black, how Nora did her hair, how you applied god knows how many creams/essences on your face. It was calming to her.

“So, what are you going for?” Abby nodded at the bunch of clothes on your bed.

“The laziest vampire on earth.” You sighed. “You know, all black, some sunglasses to look like an asshole. We still have cranberry juice, right? I’ll pretend it’s blood.”

“Wow, that’s bad.” Abby laughed.

“Well I can’t come in my usual clothes, that would be even worse. I’ll try to look like the lack of effort was a choice and you know what? I’ll look hot doing it.”

“You definitely will.” Not that Abby understood anything in women’s hotness, but hey. She met girls who made her head turn, so.. Listen, she didn’t know where she was going with this thought. All girls were pretty, okay. It was the universal truth, what was the point of thinking she didn’t know when women were hot, she wasn’t a blind idiot.

Abby walked you out of the door with a promise you’d call her if anything happens and a kiss on the forehead.

from: Owen

Are you out tonight?

Fuck, Abby thought. Fuck-fuck-fuck. If she’d say she was home he’d definitely ask to come over, and lying was pointless. Abby stared at her phone once more. But what if she’d want to hook up with him later? Fuck. This shit shouldn’t have been so complicated.

Well. She could lie in a different way.

to: Owen

sorry, I’ve got a fever so I stayed home

That was so stupid and hardly believable, but Abby didn’t want to deal with Owen right now. Or ever.

Thankfully he left her on read and Abby sighed in relief before going to the living room to finish the next level in Doom. It took her a few hours after she fell down to death a bunch of times, missing the right moment to jump from one stupid pillar to another. And the boss at the end of the level was pretty hard, so when she finally beat him it was close to 2:30 am.

Abby tidied the living room and then took a shower, her eyes hurt a little after staring at the screen for so long. She came back to her room and cautiously checked her notifications in fear Owen’d drunk-text her, but instead there was a text from you.

from: (y/n)

Im w a girl

Abby stilled as she read your text, her heart squeezing in pain that she didn’t understand. Was she jealous? But she just turned Owen down, so it couldn't be right. Abby shook her head as if it’d shake the thoughts out of her head and quickly got ready for bed - she hoped to fall asleep before you’d come home with a girl.

It seemed like the universe hated her that night, because when she felt she was finally falling asleep, relieved she wouldn’t hear you coming home, the front door clicked open.

Abby shut her eyes and tried not to listen to any sounds: to be fair, she didn’t hear anything until your bedroom’s door was shut. She didn’t want to think about what was happening in your bedroom, but then she heard it.

You were clearly trying to be quiet, but one of your whimpers was too loud. Abby’s ears rang and her heart started beating faster from anxiety. Despite herself her head got filled with pictures of some random girl touching you. Abby wanted to barf, wanted this girl out of your bedroom, wanted to fucking rip her arms off for making you sound like that.

Abby took a deep breath and sat on the bed, her ears tuned to your bedroom - it seemed like you noticed your mistake and got quieter, but Abby didn’t need you to make any more sounds to feel absolutely sick, her brain conveniently showing her how you were being fucked right now.

Abby huffed in disgust and stilled suddenly, noticing her emotions. She was disgusted? Fucking hell she was.

You were having sex next door and Abby was so disgusted and angry she wanted to break something. She felt guilty, because you didn't deserve this, you didn't do anything bad, but Abby couldn't shake her feelings and her unbearable fantasies off.

Abby took another deep breath and grabbed her headphones, determined to force herself into sleep, even if she couldn't breathe properly from her awful feelings.

And Abby would have to be nice in the morning, wouldn't she?

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #aligyimh

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