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#i just want to keep playing it over and over again
a-b-riddle · 2 days
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Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
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wonryllis · 2 days
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 10k (current wc, 2k)
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!! .. progress update tag
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park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz
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dante-mightdie · 2 days
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Not enough suffering. I need to cry.
The boys just continue to pretend that reader no longer exists. Becoming more of a fly on the wall then a roommate they occasionally fuck.
Soon they just leave you out of everything, dinner? There was not even leftovers for reader, no scrapes left either.
Reader won't leave because they will soon come back around tho right? >:')
god I just love PAIN
c/w: neglect, angst, no happy ending in this one, brief mentions of sex
it becomes a very depressing and very predictable pattern from them. wake up, avoid you then go to sleep. even when they speak to you, they’re never saying much. normally just a reminder that you left dishes in the sink or something mundane
you held out hope for the first few days, especially when simon came slinking over to you one night in the kitchen, bending you over the counter and having his way with you. his rough hands and fast pace made your heart swell solely because you missed having one of them even touch you
but when he just buckled up his trousers and left without a word, you realise you’re still on time out
sometimes you’re asleep before they get home, locked up in the spare room as you sniffle into your pillow. they don’t even come to check on you and you begin to wonder what conclusion they came to on your whereabouts. do they even know you’re at home? do they care?
every day of the month, you and the boys are supposed to set aside a night to go out for a date. seems your invite was lost in the post when you see them all dressed up, talking amongst themselves about the pub they’re going to
“can I come?” you ask, standing in the doorway and playing with your fingers nervously. the laughing and chattering stops instantly, all four heads turning to you as if they didn’t even know you were there. you know what the answer is going to be before any of them say anything
“you won’t like this place. it-“ john starts, and you know he’s about to list off some lazy excuse as to why you won’t like it. as if that was even the point. you don’t go on date nights with them for the actual drinks or decor. you go to spend time with them but they clearly didn’t want you there so you simply wouldn’t go
“whatever.” you mumble, rolling your eyes and turning to leave what was once your shared bedroom so they don’t see the tears in your eyes. you slam the door to the spare bedroom, throwing yourself onto the mattress and sobbing into the pillow
you hear a light tap on the door before it opens. you cease your crying almost instantly, keeping your back turned towards the door. your heart rate picks up and that sick familiar feeling of hope crawls its way back into your chest, “we weren’t saying you can’t come with us. come if you want just don’t make us wait around forever whilst you get ready.”
the sound of kyle’s voice fills the room but you can tell he doesn’t really want to be speaking to you, like simon or the captain told him to come do some damage control so you wouldn’t throw a strop about not being invited. you keep your back turned to him, nuzzling your head further into the pillow
“jus’ go without me.” you sniffle, “it’s not like you really want me there anyway.”
kyle sighs at your words and you hear your door softly click close and everyone’s feet shuffling downstairs before they go out the front door, leaving you alone again
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chatsukimi · 3 days
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ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋꜱ
featuring: touchstarved!gojo, slight enemies to lovers. synopsis: gojo satoru can't understand why he keeps wanting to spar with you... until one time, you two get a little too close. masterlist
sparring with satoru is a pain above all else. yaga has been assigning you to hand to hand combat with satoru for weeks now- a suspiciously long amount of time without switching partners.
you kick, dodge a punch, and stare up at his shameless smile. each time you come close to landing a hit, he turns on infinity, then poof! your opportunity rushes out the window.
"no techniques allowed." you grit your teeth.
"oops." he holds his hands up in a faux surrender. "sorry, forgot."
he certainly did not forget.
this time, he charges at your torso, his annoyingly long arm closing distance on your shoulder at breakneck speed. you feel the limb dislocate. you wince. using his upper hand, gojo grabs your arms and pins you to the gymnasium floor. the air is knocked out of your lungs.
he's panting, his blue eyes clambering over you, under him. like always, he's too close to you- so close you see your own figure in the reflection of his watery irises. you could lift your hand up an inch to brush the sweat from his forehead. always. way too close.
his fingers trail across your elbow up towards your collarbone- whoosh.
infinity on again. he lets out a long exhale, scrunching his eyes shut as though pained.
that's when gojo thinks he's safe.
only, he's not really.
instead of giving up, you close your hand around the infinity and pull the whole thing, gojo and his infinity, towards you. your legs drag around his hips.
his eyes widen.
your hand pushes his chest then in the brisk manoeuvre, you're on top of him.
you think you see his soul poke its head out his mouth, tipped ajar in shock.
you don't know why you do what you do next. in some depraved performance, your fingers close in on his windpipe. you don't squeeze; the imagery is enough to satisfy. snowy white eyelashes fluttering to meet your gaze, the groan echoing out from his throat, the tight strain in his chest as he breathes shallowly, letting you way too close.
"they're watching," he murmurs.
shoko and geto. fear washes over you, and you're about to let go-
his own hand closes around your wrist.
he's staring at you darkly, goading you to move.
"they're watching," he says again, his hands suddenly at your waist pulling you closer. his tongue flicks over his bottom lip.
you're almost laying on his chest, face to face with your own deadly consumption.
"how long have you been beating me up just to get this close?" you tease.
"huh?"
truly innocently desperately confused, satoru has the gall to tighten his grip, hoisting himself up until he's sitting to lean over you again- if only slightly.
"we're just sparring, aren't we?" and he's telling himself this as his nose bumps against yours. and he's lying to himself that the way he's exploring your body is an act of aggression, not an act of compulsion. "you've been playing dirty tricks on me, but i can do it better."
dirty tricks? you think you see the thought passing through his concentrated face.
unfair, unfair, unfair-
how dare you provoke him let down his infinity? who do you think you are? how could you break him down through just one touch, leave him barrelling towards you for more?
unfair, unfair, unfair-
his hand rests by your jaw, stroking up your cheek, taking his precious time.
because sparring with you is the only time satoru gets to touch you.
he forces all his common sense out of his brain as he whispers, frustration coursing through his tone, "you're weak. your form is full of openings." and he's almost kissing you-
"time out, time out." shoko's voice cuts through the haze.
you feel you two being dragged apart by shoko and geto. the latter frowns at the white haired menace who's temporarily lost his obnoxious pride, silent.
the moment is awkward for everyone except for him.
gojo cocks his head to the side, looking at geto. "we were just fighting?"
geto sighs. just fighting?
you shiver as gojo's expressionless stare sticks onto you. curious.
the fight is over already...
but then why does he want to kiss you still?
512 notes · View notes
mina-saiyat · 2 days
Text
Let's Play Ball (Sana)
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‘LG Twins! LG Twins!’ The cheer from the stadium is too loud, which can be clearly heard even in the toilet. Sana was invited to attend the match today for the ceremonial first pitch today. However, as soon as the match starts, she secretly goes to the changing room of LG Twins. The jersey she wears is cut specifically to show her waist, the jeans are extra tight to highlight her huge ass.
Sana takes a deep breath, pretending to be calm and opens the door. ‘Is anyone here?’ Sure enough, there is a man waiting here, a director from LG Twins, who sends the invitation to JYP.
"Come on, Sana, let's get started." The man raises the corners of his mouth and shows an evil smile. "What...start?" Sana asked knowingly.
"Of course, I want to enjoy your soft and fragrant body." The man grabs Sana's wrist, pushes her down on the bench without any explanation, then leans down and kisses Sana's lips...
Sana knows that the current situation could not be reversed, so she simply stops resisting and lays down on the bench obediently, raising her neck slightly to receive the man's passionate kiss.
While kissing Sana, the man stretches out his hand to knead the two bulges on Sana's chest. The other hand slips into Sana's jeans and wanders around the top of her thigh.
"Hmm..." Sana couldn't help but hum softly as she feels the stimulation coming from the sensitive parts of her body.
The man's actions become more and more unscrupulous. He pulls away Sana's jersey, bites and sucks on Sana's fair and smooth skin, leaving wet marks. At the same time, his fingers also penetrated Sana's underwear, pressing and teasing Sana's most private parts.
"Ah...ha..." Sana couldn't help but twist her body and her breathing becomes rapid.
"Sana is so sensitive, already emotional right from the beginning." The man raises his head and smiles proudly.
Sana deliberately put on a flirtatious expression, licked her lips and said, "Yes, when I see a strong man like you, I can't help but get wet down there."
"Really? Then I'm going to take good care of that 'little devil' below you." The man pulls down Sana's underwear with great interest and directly swirls the tip of his tongue on her clitoris.
"Oh...ah...no..." Sana was so stimulated that her whole body was numb, but she still keep saying seductive words in her mouth: "Harder...eat me until I am clean...um."
After hearing this, the man really increasedhis strength. His tongue flexibly rolls and licks Sana's core. Occasionally, he would insert the entire length into Sana's vaginal opening and thrust it a few times.
"Ah... it's so deep... I'm going to cum..." Sana screams, and a large amount of semen spurts out from the her clit, pouring into the man's mouth.
"Miss Sana is having some much water, I'm almost drowning." The man says and swallows all of Sana's juice, and once again takes Sana's lower body and sucks wildly.
"No... I… cum... ah -" Sana screams and spurts out spurts of orgasmic semen, all which lands on the man's naked upper body.
"Finally, I thought you were going to gag me." The man licks his lips, then stands up and unzips his pants.
After Sana sees his size clearly, she immediately covers her mouth and widened her eyes - this man's penis is too big and hard, and it seems that her pussy would be red and swollen from being penetrated.
"Don't be afraid, I will enter slowly later." The man pats Sana's head comfortingly, then turns Sana over and kneels her down on the bench.
"Let's start from the back first." The man holds his huge penis against the entrance of Sana's wet pussy, and slowly but powerfully pushed inside.
Sana couldn't help but gasp as she frld the man's hot penis gradually penetrate into her body. "It's so big...you're going to fill me up..." Sana looks back at the man, her eyes blurred and unexplained.
"You're so tight, just like a virgin." The man enjoys the way Sana's cavity walls clamps around his penis, and he couldn't help but growl in pleasure.
Sana shakes her hips and bumps back in time with the man's rhythm. "Ah...go deeper...insert it all the way inside..." Sana is completely immersed in lust, moaning wildly.
"As you wish." The man suddenly straightens his waist, and the entire length of his penis is being inserted into Sana's pussy.
"Oh!!!" Sana screams as she climbs into another orgasm, nectar leaking from the joint and soaking the bench. The man grabs Sana's waist and fucks her without stopping. He penetrates as deep as possible with every thrust, and his huge cock moves in and out of Sana's pussy like a piston, making a slurping sound.
"It feels so good... Harder... Penetrate me... Ah——" Sana is completely lost in the sea of ​​pleasure, just wanting more and more. The man is also so happy that he growls again and again. He pinches Sana's breasts and rubs them with one hand, and penetrates Sana's anus with the other hand, torturing Sana in three ways.
"Oh oh oh...” Sana feels a tingling sensation coming from her anus. Her anal canal was pried open and expanded by the man's fingers, and her tight muscles contracted instinctively, which makes the man feel even more happy.
"The hole in the back of you is also good at sucking " The man laughs.
Sana blushes with embarrassment, but her brain is soon occupied by the pleasure in both holes, and she could only scream loudly.
"Hurry...don't stop...it's coming...ahhhhh-" Sana collapses to the ground after a fierce climax, but the man does not let her go, but accelerates the fucking.
"Oh...I am going to be broken...how can you last so long..." Sana begs in a daze, but couldn't stop herself from catering to the man.
The man stops and looks at Sana with a half-smile: "Don't you like it very much? Why do you want me to stop again?"
"No...I want you..." Sana doesn't know how to express her desire, so she blushes and lowers her head.
"What do you want from me?" The man approachs step by step, licking Sana's ear.
"I want you to...insert me inside...fuck me hard..." Sana yells out these words without any hesitation, just hoping that the man could satisfy her desires.
"As you wish." The man chuckles and startes again. His cock and finger advanced deep into Sana's body at the same time, as if they were about to penetrate Sana.
"Ahhhh - it's so deep... it's about to burst... but... please don't stop..." Sana cries out as her nipples were pinched hard by the man, and a finger was inserted deeply into her anus. The sensitive points on both front and back were extremely stimulated, causing her to reach another climax very quickly.
"Ahhh... I'm going to die..." Sana rolles her eyes, a large amount of transparent juice gushes out from the place of intercourse, making the man's crotch muddy.
However, the man has no intention of stopping at all. He increases the speed of thrusting and says viciously: "You haven't been fucked enough by me yet."
Sana barely struggles to support her upper body, looks at the man and begs for mercy: "I really can't do it anymore... I'm about to be penetrated down there... You..."
The man suddenly leans down and bites Sana's lips, kissing her roughly. At the same time, the movements of his lower body become faster and harder. His huge penis is rubbing in and out of Sana's body, as if he is trying to turn Sana's vagina completely out.
"Um...slow down...I'm going to suffocate..." Sana is almost choked by the kiss, but she couldn't help but respond to the man's manipulation.
The man let go of Sana's lips, raises her chin and stares into her eyes: "You said you want me to slow down, do you want me to stop or do you want me to fuck you slower?"
Sana is stunned for a moment, and then she understands what the man meant, and her face turns red: "Just fuck me more slowly... I can bear it..."
"Very good." The man smiles with satisfaction. He indeed slows down the speed, but the intensity of the fucking increased a lot, and each thrust is as deep as possible.
"Oh...so deep...so comfortable..." Sana moans unconsciously, the nectar gurgling out and forming a clear spring on the man's thigh.
The man is even more proud when he sees this. He grabs Sana's waist and sprints hard. His thick penis quickly moves in and out of Sana's body, making a "slapping" sound.
"You are such a little devil, this pussy is just full of water." The man jokes.
Sana is ashamed, but also excited by the man's vulgar words. She couldn't help but twist her hips to meet the man's manipulation, and at the same time gently rubs her clit with her fingers, hoping to get more pleasure.
"Ahh... faster... I'm cumming..." Sana screams loudly. She feels that her orgasm is approaching, and she is only one step away from reaching the peak of bliss.
The man seems to be aware of Sana's state. He no longer holds back, but thrust with all his strength. His thick penis moves in and out of Sana's body quickly, making a "Gurgling" sound.
"Are you cumming? I'm going to make you feel so good." The man smiles evilly and suddenly accelerates his speed and sprints vigorously, crushing Sana's G-spot with every stroke.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Sana screams as she climaxed. Her whole body convulses, and a large amount of nectar squirts out, spraying all over the man.
The man's face is sprayed with Sana's juice, but he didn't feel disgusted at all. Instead, he looks excited. "You're so horny, you squirted like this." The man teases Sana, stroking her smooth back and gently slapping her buttocks.
Sana's cheeks are so red that they are about to bleed. She never thought that she would reach such an orgasm under the gaze of a stranger. But she also feels unprecedented satisfaction and pleasure, as if her entire body was filled.
"Do you still want it? I can continue to serve you." The man whispers in Sana's ear, his voice full of temptation.
Sana shakes her head, but nods immediately. She didn't know how to answer this question. She knows her job is to satisfy the man, and desire makes her unable to resist the man's invitation.
When the man sees this, he doesn't ask any questions. He picks up Sana and turns her around into a missionary position, then kneels between her legs.
"This time I will make you completely happy." The man says as he straightens his back and inserts his penis into Sana's slippery pussy. "Oh..." Sana let out a sigh of relief. She raises her head and closes her eyes, letting the pleasure engulf her.
The man starts a new round of fucking. His movements are more powerful and rougher than before. Each thrust penetrates to the deepest point, crushing Sana's G-spot hard. At the same time, he keeps changing his rhythm, sometimes slowly, and sometimes he sprintes straight to the cervix.
"Do you like this position? I feel your vagina is sucking me tightly." The man teases while fucking.
Sana blushes with embarrassment. She knows that she must look very lustful now, but she doesn't care about it anymore and just screams loudly along with the rhythm of the man's fucking.
Sana is completely lost in the ecstasy of sex. She only knows how to follow the man's fucking and desperately wants him to penetrate deeper and faster.
"Oh... it's going to break... you inserted it too deep..." Sana cried, she could clearly feel the man's thick and long penis moving in and out of her body, and every time it was inserted as deep as possible...
The man doesn't care about this. He grabs Sana's waist and accelerates the speed. His huge penis quickly slams into Sana's body, making a "slap" sound. "I just want to see you crying and begging for mercy." The man growls, and his breathing gradually becomes heavier.
Sana couldn't bear it any longer, and she cries loudly with tears streaming down her face: "I'm cumming... Hurry up... faster..." The man fucks her more violently as if he is allowed to do so. His penis rushes wildly inside Sana, reaching the deepest point every time. Sana's womb was being hit again and again, and the pleasure sweeps over her like a tide, and soon she reaches another climax.
"Ah——!" Sana screames and bites the man's shoulder. Her whole body convulses, and a large amount of nectar squirt out again, covering the man's body.
The man is aroused by Sana's sudden attack. He growls and accelerates the speed of thrusting. His penis is rubbing rapidly inside Sana's body, and he is about to reach climax. As soon as Sana recovers from the afterglow of her climax, she was pushed up to a higher mountain by the man's wild fucking again.
Sana could clearly feel the man's thick penis thrusting deeper and deeper into her body, reaching her most sensitive sex center. She couldn't help but scream: "Don't...I’m going to break..."
However, the man ignores her cries. He grabs Sana's breasts and squeezes them hard. At the same time, he speeds up and fucks her hard. "I'm going to cum, are you ready?" the man grows, his voice a little hoarse.
Sana's reason has long since disappeared, and she just wants to pursue more and stronger pleasure. So she leaves a deep tooth mark on the man's shoulder, and at the same time twistes her hips to cooperate with the man's manipulation. "Cum in me...give it all to me..." Sana screames loudly. She could feel the man's thick penis swelling inside her body, as if it is about to spurt out in the next moment.
Sure enough, the man suddenly increased his speed, thrusting his long and thick penis rapidly inside Sana's body, hitting the G-spot hard with every thrust. Sana's senses were completely amplified at this time, and every groan and every gasp of the man turned into overwhelming pleasure and hit her.
"Oh——!" The man yells. He holds Sana's waist and penetrates deeply. His thick penis is completely immersed in Sana's body. Then a stream of hot semen shoots out and pours into Sana's womb.
Sana is also stimulated by the burning heat and reaches another climax. Her whole body is convulsing, and only broken moans are left in her mouth.
The man slowly pulls out his still erect penis, and a large amount of white turbid liquid flows out of Sana's slightly open clit, staining the bench underneath her.
Sana is a little dazed in the afterglow of orgasm, but when the man's penis is pulled out, she immediately wakes up. Sana looks at the penis that is still erected and covered with her own bodily fluids, and feels a strong desire for possession. She couldn't help but stick out her tongue and lick it gently, and then takes the entire glans in her mouth.
"Well... what a slut..." The man chuckles, but does not stop Sana's movement. He reaches out and strokes the back of Sana's head, guiding her to start cleaning up the results of his recent victory.
Sana moans seductively while licking every inch of her sex with her tongue. This scene is so erotic that the man couldn't help but sigh.
At the same time, the man does not let go of his attack on Sana. He continues to knead Sana's red and swollen breasts, and occasionally pinches the cherry at the top, causing Sana to gasp repeatedly.
"Ah... don't..." Sana still has half of his penis in her mouth, and the sounds from her mouth naturally turns into indistinct moans. But this sound is supremely beautiful music to a man's ears.
The man increases his intensity, rubbing Sana's breasts vigorously with his palms, and his penis moves back and forth into Sana's mouth, pushing into the depth of her throat from time to time. Sana feels like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, with every part of her body being controlled by men. But she doesn't hate this feeling.
Sana's mouth is completely filled with the cock, but it was not enough to satisfy her. She swallows the huge thing harder, trying to take it all into her mouth.
When the man sees this, he doesn't stop her. He holds the back of Sana's head and thrusts his penis straight into Sana's mouth until it reaches the depths of her throat. Sana's saliva mixes with the previous body fluids, forming patches of foam between the entrance and exit of the genitals.
"Oh...it feels so good...your little mouth is really good at sucking..." The man couldn't help but growl, Sana's deep throat gives him great pleasure. Sana's mouth is narrow, moist, and hot, and Sana's tongue is very good at licking. All of this makes the man go crazy. So, the man no longer cares about Sana's feelings. He grabs Sana's hair and thrust his penis into her mouth quickly. His thick penis rubs in Sana's throat, and he soon reaches another climax.
"I'm going to cum... Just take it..." The man growls. When his penis is inserted to the deepest, he cums a large amount of hot semen, all pours into Sana's esophagus.
Sana choked and coughed from the sudden ejaculation, but she still managed to swallow most of it. She is not able to breathe until the man pulled out his genitals.
There is white liquid hanging from the corner of Sana's mouth, and there is a hint of longing in her eyes as she looks at the man.
Sana's eyes tell the man that she wanted to be creampied. But time is limited, and their game must end before others come back.
So the man leans down, bites one of Sana's earlobes, and whispers: "Wait for me, I will love you very much until midnight... According to the contract, you are my fuck toy until 12…"
After hearing the man's words, Sana's eyes immediately filled with water. The two spends a crazy afternoon in the locker room. When the whistle is blowed, the men is already dressed and ready to leave. Sana beside him is a little distracted. Although she is dressed as she came, the slightly bulging shape of her abdomen indicates some unusual condition.
On the way, the man asks Sana in a low voice: "Are you still feeling comfortable with my semen?" Sana nods shyly. Her womb is still filled with the man's semen, and she could feel the warm swaying in her body when she walks.
The man smiles. He pats Sana's butt and whispers, "There will be something better later... We will continue when we get to the hotel." Sana couldn't help but shivers when she hears it, but she doesn't refuse. It’s just another job.
603 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 2 days
Text
Flirting with the FBI
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word count: 7.1k
Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???
Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.
A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭
Masterlist
You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.
If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.
Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.
You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.
You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.
“There once was a serial killer,
Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,
He cut, diced and slashed,
Left the feds quite abashed,
So I leave this message to be clearer”
The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.
You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.
You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.
None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.
And you really wanted to listen in.
The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.
Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.
A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.
With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.
“There once was a bullpen full of agents,
Who thought they were very surveillant,
But a simply code crack,
And there system did hack,
A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”
This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.
The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.
Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.
He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.
Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.
“The tall, dark and handsome employee,
How I do wish that he could enjoy me,
I would gladly submit,
we match wit for wit,
But he's trying his best to arrest me.”
The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”
The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.
You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.
A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.
After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.
By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.
So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.
“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,
I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,
the killer, you see,
Is right now hunting me,
You're the ones who can do better tracking.”
You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.
That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.
You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,
Who I simply and truly just need,
I would lie on my back,
And then let him attack,
Any inch of my body with his seed.”
He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.
Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.
You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.
He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.
This latest limerick was his last straw.
“The cameras are how I can see you,
I do find myself enjoying the view,
His hair is so fine,
I wish he was mine,
The agent with more PhDs than two.”
“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.
“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”
“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”
“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”
They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.
“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.
“The agents grew closer by day,
As the killer wanted to escape,
He paced across the floor,
As I watched by his door,
Getting closer than the agents could say.”
He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.
“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”
“Officer Falstaff, why?”
“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.
“Spencer, wait-”
“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”
Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.
“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.
“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”
“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”
Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.
“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”
His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”
“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”
“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”
The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.
The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.
Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.
Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.
The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.
“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.
A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.
The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.
You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.
“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,
Working with you has been like a dream,
When Reid comes it is wet,
And my mind is all set,
Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”
The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.
“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.
“When you find me there's lots for me to say,
I can't help simply feeling this way,
Your profile I read,
Can't believe you're a Fed,
I yearn for you all night and day.”
Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.
He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.
You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.
“The Doctor had finally cracked it,
The only identity that could fit,
The pretty young thing,
Who'd been flirting with him,
And was thinking of sitting on his…”
You sent a second message along with the first.
“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”
The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.
xxx
So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.
You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.
Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.
You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.
He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.
He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.
“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.
“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”
“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”
“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.
“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.
“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”
“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”
“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”
“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”
He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.
“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.
“As much as anyone does.”
“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.
“What do you think, Doc?”
“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.
“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.
“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.
“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”
“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”
For the first time in a while, you were speechless.
“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”
“Why, Y/N?”
You sighed and looked back up at him.
“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.
“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.
“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”
He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.
“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”
“You want to sleep with me?”
His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.
“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”
To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.
“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”
You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.
“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.
“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”
You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.
“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”
Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.
“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”
“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”
The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.
A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.
“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.
You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.
“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.
“No, you don't.”
“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”
“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”
“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”
“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”
He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.
“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”
He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.
“Can we keep this serious, please?”
“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”
“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.
“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.
“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”
Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.
“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”
“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”
“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”
“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”
You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.
He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.
It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.
“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”
“I'm driving you home.”
“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”
“What about friends?”
“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”
His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.
“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”
“What?”
“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.
“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”
“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.
“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.
“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.
He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.
The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.
“Spencer!”
“Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”
“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”
You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.
“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.
“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”
The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.
He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.
“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.
“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”
“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”
He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.
“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.
“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”
“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.
It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.
When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.
“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.
“And let you touch my things? No.”
You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.
“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.
“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.
“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.
“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.
“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”
You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.
He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.
You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.
“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”
“What's the difference?”
“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."
"And what would that be?"
"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”
“Brat,” he spat at you.
“Fed,” you spat back.
“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.
“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.
“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”
His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.
“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”
You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.
“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”
“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.
“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”
With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.
The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.
His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.
“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.
With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.
“Fuck, Spencer-”
“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”
“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.
“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.
“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”
“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.
“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.
Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.
“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”
His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.
“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”
“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.
“Say it.”
“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”
“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.
“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.
“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.
Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.
Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.
They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.
“Who I simply and truly just need.”
He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.
“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”
A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.
“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”
His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.
He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.
“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.
You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.
You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.
He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.
If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.
He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.
Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.
When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.
“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.
“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”
“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.
Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.
When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.
He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.
“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”
670 notes · View notes
pomefioredove · 3 days
Text
having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
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𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Arguments II
Alexia Putellas x Hardersson!Reader
Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first argument
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You weren't really one to argue.
You didn't enjoy confrontations. You didn't like yelling.
But you knew this was where it was heading.
Talia stewed in the driver's seat all the way home, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.
This wasn't how you wanted her to find out.
You had been lucky, you think. You and Talia didn't argue. You had disagreements over silly things over when to feed the pets and whose turn it was to do the laundry.
But you knew, just by looking at the way Talia's jaw clenched that this was heading toward an argument.
You prepare yourself.
It happens almost as soon as the apartment door is closed.
"Lyon?!" She demands," Really, Lyon?!"
It wasn't the best way for Talia to find out, you can admit that. It wasn't that you were trying to keep it a secret. It was that you were told not to talk about it while the details were worked out.
You sigh. "I'm sorry but-"
"I thought you were happy here!" Talia interrupts," At Barcelona. In Spain. With me!"
"I am!"
"You're leaving!" Talia yells," You're leaving!"
"I'm not!" You snap back, hands clenching into fists as you dig your nails into your palm.
Talia scoffs. "Oh, forgive me if I'm wrong but Lyon is in France, yes?! So, yeah, y/n, you're leaving!"
"You're blowing this out of proportion!" You stand chest to chest with her.
You're practically the same height as her now so you're both yelling straight in each other's face.
(You have to concentrate as to not connect your lips to hers because it's unfair just how attractive she is while yelling).
The loan to Lyon had come out of nowhere, as was most emergency loans. It was a string of bad luck for the French team, their keepers dropping like flies until all that was left was two academy players who had never played for the senior team.
You, on the other hand, were twenty-one years old already with six years experience and a world cup win under your belt. You were a proven winner and Lyon were willing to throw an extortionate amount of money at Barcelona to get you on loan.
They offered you bonuses that was bordering on more zeros at the end of a number than you'd ever seen.
Lyon had been knocking on the door when your agent let clubs know you were leaving Arsenal. It had been a toss up between them and Barcelona.
But you chose Barcelona and they still kept knocking.
You agreed to the loan though, if only to get experience in a different league.
"If you want to leave," Talia yells," Then there's the door!"
"Oh, yeah? Well maybe I will!"
"Go on then!"
"Fine!
"Fine!"
You whistle as you make it to the door, crouching down to clip on Prins' leash before storming out into the hallway.
You choose to take the stairs instead of the elevator, working out some of your frustration on the way.
Prins' leash gets clipped onto your belt loop and you take off on a controlled jog around the neighbourhood.
Talia calls you.
You ignore it.
She call you again.
You don't want to continue this argument.
You turn off your phone.
You keep jogging, your feet pounding onto the pavement.
Prins runs next to you happily. He's always been able to keep up on your morning runs and a random afternoon run doesn't seem to faze him either.
Your mind runs just like your feet as you overthink all of your little interactions in the argument earlier. You wonder, briefly, if this means you and Talia have broken up now.
You hope not.
You're not sure how you would cope if Talia broke up with you over this.
Your running slows to a walk as you make your way to the beach. You sit on the sand and just stare out across the sea.
Prins whines a little bit, stamping his feet on the ground.
"Sorry," You say, unclipping his leash so he can run," There you go."
He doesn't though. He just whines a bit more, shuffling closer until his snout is pressed up against your face.
You smile.
"Thanks, Prins," You say, tearfully," You're a good boy."
His tail wags happily.
"He is a good boy."
You nearly burst into tears are hearing a familiar voice behind you.
"Hi, Alexia."
"Hi."
She sits down next to you and you bury your face in Prins' fur, not wanting her to see you cry.
"Nat's worried," Alexia says," She's calling everyone to see where you've gone."
"I turned off my phone. I didn't want to argue anymore."
Alexia frowns. "You argued with each other? That doesn't sound right."
"She was very angry," You whisper, turning on your phone in your pocket.
Alexia can just hear you over the roar of the sea. You've still got your head buried against Prins so your words are muffled.
"She's not angry anymore," Alexia says," She's very, very worried. You've been gone for nearly two hours."
That doesn't sound right, you think but when you fish out your phone, Alexia's right.
You've been running for nearly two hours since the argument.
"Oh."
Alexia chuckles. "Yeah, oh. You've had people looking for you. I think Nat even called your parents."
"I didn't want her to worry. I just wanted to stop arguing," You mumble.
"That's okay," Alexia assures you," But maybe you should shoot her a text telling her where you are so she doesn't worry anymore, huh?"
"Okay."
You text Talia your whereabouts.
There's silence for a long while between you both, nothing but the ocean and occasionally Prins shuffling around to get comfortable.
The sun is setting when Alexia speaks again.
"What were you arguing about?"
"I'm moving to Lyon," You say and Alexia jolts.
"What?" She asks in disbelief," Why? Does Barcelona not make you happy anymore?"
You give her an odd look. "No, it does, but staying out for one season wouldn't do any harm. Lyon has no keepers. Barcelona has two others plus that La Masia girl."
"The one that's always following you around?"
"I think it's sweet. She's good." You shrug. "I'll be back next year anyway."
"Wait..." Alexia blinks a few times. "What do you mean you'll be back next year?"
"It's only a loan," You reply," They're..." Your face goes red. "Lyon's offering the club a lot plus a bonus for me." You're sure that you resemble a tomato right now. "It's a lot of money. Enough to pay for a house in cash. Talia mentioned about maybe finding a place for ourselves."
"You want to buy Nat a house?"
"Well, I want to buy us a house." You frown. "Sorry...is it too early in a relationship to consider that? My Morsa said she was envisioning a house with Momma within the first month."
"No!" Alexia assures you," It's sweet. You're sweet, y/n, but I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding."
You turn to look at her. "A misunderstanding? Over what?"
She doesn't get to answer because a body crashes into you and a phone is shoved into your face.
"I found her!" Talia exclaims," I've got her! I've got her!"
On the phone screen is your mothers, both pressed up against each other as they stare.
"Don't do that!" Morsa immediately jumps into a lecture. "Do you know how worried we were?! We called you so many times! We thought you were dead in a ditch!"
"I had Prins with me." It's a weak defence and you know it but you have to at least try. "He wouldn't let anything happen to me."
"Princesse, I love you but your dog is as dumb as a pile of bricks," Morsa says," But I'm glad you're okay."
"You can go to France," Talia says quickly," Not that you need my permission but if you want to go then go. I'm sorry that I yelled. If you want to leave Barcelona then go but-"
"Leave?" You repeat," I'm not leaving. I'm just going on loan."
If you weren't still a little worried about Talia breaking up with you then you'd find the shocked look on her face comical.
"What?"
"It's just a loan," You say," I...erm...They're willing to give me a lot of money for it. I thought, maybe, we could use it to get a house."
"I...You...We...You want to get a house with me?"
"I mean...er, if you want that too. I know that-"
You don't get to finish because Talia drops her phone to pull you into a kiss.
"Yes, I want to get a house with you."
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munsonsfairy · 2 days
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🍒🐦‍🔥 LICK ME LIKE A LOLLIPOP • PAIGE B.
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warnings: fem reader, dom paige, strap on, paige receiving, clit play, fingering, 69, no description of reader but has hair to grab on to, lollipop is immortal, praise, aftercare
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to everyone in the room you were just eating a lollipop, but paige knew what you were doing. the way your lips puckered and licked the cherry candy made her think of the night before when you were on your knees in front of her.
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“aww, look how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth,” paige had a handful of your hair and fucked into your throat.
“fuck, rub your clit for me baby.” your body shivers just thinking about doing it again tonight.
at first you were not trying to give her a show until you noticed her staring at your lips. her licking and biting her lip made you want to see how far you could go until she broke.
you could feel her eyes on you the entire night. the silent eye contact had you squeezing your thighs. you could see the effect you had on paige but she was not breaking.
when the current song ended, you put your lips around the lollipop and moaned loud enough that paige could only hear you.
“keep playing your little game and see how far it gets you,” paige whispered against your neck then kissed leaving you wanting more.
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she had you sitting on your knees in front of her. she sat with her manspreading with her cock out of her pants.
the lollipop you once used to tease her with was in her mouth. paige leaned towards you to put her thumb in your mouth. you closed your lips around her and sucked while looking into her blue eyes.
“fuck, i don’t even need to ask you to do something. gonna show me what you were doing earlier?”
you nodded and swirled your tongue around her thumb. “let me see that tongue, ma.” paige slapped the tip of her cock on your tongue. your lips wrapped around the head of her strap to tease her. she smirked and licked her lips watching the show you were putting on for her. you relaxed your jaw and slowly pushed your head down.
her fingers tangled the back of your hair and slowly fucked up into your throat. she lets out a breath when she sees her cock fill your mouth. you look up and see her eyes dark filled with pleasure.
you gag around her cock making tears fall down your cheeks. “don’t cry you’ll only make it harder to stop, baby.”
you rubbed your thighs trying to release some pleasure from your clit. seeing her head thrown back with her hair a mess made you whimper around her cock.
“look at you so desperate. play with yourself, baby. want you to cum with me.” you pushed your panties to the slide and started rubbing your swollen clit. the pleasure plus paige rocking her hips into your mouth made you so dizzy.
she hissed and stopped, “sit on my face, i need that pussy in my mouth.”
you slipped your panties off and hovered over paige’s mouth. she slapped your ass and wrapped her arms around your legs to bring you right on her mouth.
“suck on this too, doll,” you suck the cherry red candy before her strap goes back into your mouth.
with every grunt that came out of her lips almost sent you over the edge. “just like that, baby. let me use that mouth, fuck.”
you rolled your hips on her tongue hitting your clit on the right spot. you felt yourself getting closer when paige used her tongue to fuck your hole.
her hands tightened around your thighs letting you know she was close too. her hips quickened making you gag around her cock. “are you close, baby?”
you could only nod and hum with your mouth full of her. paige used her thumb to rub your clit and her tongue to tease your hole.
“fuck, baby doing so good for me. gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth? i know you’ve been wanting all night.”
paige’s words and tongue make you whimper around her and send you over the edge. it doesn’t take her long to follow. she uses one had to keep your head down on her cock while she rides out her orgasm.
once she released your head, she tapped your thigh signaling to get off. you sigh as soon as your body hits the bed. “you did so good, doll,” paige kisses your forehead and lips with a soft smile. her blue eyes filled with love.
her praise always made your cheeks heat up. “how are you feeling?”
“fuuuuuck! i’m feeling so good baby,” she nestled into your neck and kissed up to your jaw to your lips.
she sees the lollipop in your hand still, “and for this, we’re going to need to by some more so i can see your pretty lips around it.”
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otdiaftg · 3 days
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Thank you
Dear AFTG Fandom, Friends, and Family:
To say that it has been a tremendous honor would be an understatement. I am immeasurably proud of what this account has become and it’s due to every single one of you. Your passion for this account was the driving force at the end and I can’t thank this fandom enough for being a rock in the storm of all of this.
I began this account as both a love letter to a story that has consumed me since I was first introduced to it, but it was also created to prove that I could sustain something for this long and this intensely immersive. During this past year alone I have been dealt hands that were not always the best, but this account kept me above water, even through the many sleepless nights. It energized and empowered me through all of your retweets/re-blogs, likes, and comments.
I also want to highlight and thank all 40 artists that gave me permission to share their incredible work. The scenes came alive due to their immense talent and exceptional hard work. Every artist was kind and considerate, incredibly understanding and just as invested in this project as I was. I truly can’t thank them enough for their trust and support.
Thanks also need to be delivered to my wife and best friend who, without their constant push and patience, none of this would have happened. They were my first followers, my biggest fans, and were Abandoned so many times during the course of this and yet encouraged me to keep going. Maybe now we’ll finally have time to play all those games we’ve downloaded over the last year :).
I also want to thank Nora for…. so many things. For the creation of this story, for the encouragement when this account became so big YOU even saw it, and for becoming a dear friend in the process. You’ve been an inspiration throughout this in more ways than I can say.
And finally, I want to once again, thank all of YOU. The followers, the commenters, the re-posters, the veteran fans, the new fans, the obsessed fans, and the casual ones. Fandom can be such an intrinsic and beautiful thing. Pulling people together and bringing a life to these characters through our own individual experiences. We are all our own Foxes in a way, tied together with the understanding that second chances are immeasurable and the family we make are the best ones of all.
You gave this account a shot. And for that I am eternally grateful.
you were amazing.
🦊 🧡- Kelysium
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wildemaven · 3 days
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look at us | joel miller
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2748 warnings: 18+ blog; Smut, maybe even smut with no real plot, Nipple play, orgasm through nipple stimulation, praise, multiple orgasms, using arousal as lube, mutual masterbastion (f & m), cum eating/sharing, mirror watching, my horrible attempt at keeping a conversation flowing during sexy time, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself, fluff, established relationship, mentioned that reader is wearing a dress & bra but has zero descriptive features, can be read as no outbreak or prior to outbreak Joel, there’s no Sarah in this universe notes: this is a reimagined version of an older fic i posted and didn’t really like for some reason. Switched the characters and reworked it a bit. Smut is so hard to write for me, I just question the whole thing in its entirety and never want to do it again. But I love this storyline so much more now as Joel that I honestly don’t even care if the smut is wonky— I just want joel now. This writer supports Palestine and does not share or support the views of tlou creator.
It’s a heady sensation.
Visceral. Demanding. Gratifying.
His touch. A grounding force that burns through you, igniting every nerve ending in its wake.
Plaint and warm, your body blooms with a carnal appetency.
He’s emboldened by every sound he plucks from you. The softest whimpers that fall from your lips, kiss every single inch of his dewy skin. He’s forever addicted to your willingness to take what he has to give you— always wanting more.
Generous. Attentive. Steadfast.
Earnestness bleeds into a lustrous selfishness. The anticipation palpable, watching as you come apart in his arms, your pleasure is his forevermore.
It’s intuitive, the way he’s drawn to you. Most mornings, taking advantage of what little time he has with you, before work is pulling you both in different directions. Then you’re reunited for the evening and he’s making up for lost time, devouring and satisfying, well into the next day.
An endless cycle of being connected and reconnecting.
When weekends come around, he’s selfish. Overindulging beyond his means. Knowing he has ample time to relish in the closeness. Met with endless opportunities to have you near in any capacity as the hours of the day tick on, time he doesn’t take for granted.
Today is no different. From the moment the truck backs out of the driveway, beginning the several mile drive across town in the direction of Tommy’s home, he’s reaching for your hand.
Palm to palm, fingers perfectly intertwined as your hands stay connected over the center console of his pickup. The afternoon sun streaming through the window, adding to the already budding warmth that’s building between you. The conversation is light. Joel listening intently as you share details from your week, his thumb working over your knuckles as you move through the highlights of your story.
The remainder of the drive has a comfortable lull as the miles roll by. Music streaming through the cab, the lyrics provoking a wave of affection. Joel’s lips find the top of your hand periodically, his gaze never breaking from the road ahead. Your heart racing instantly at his instinctual gesture.
The gathering of friends— barbecuing, music and laughter, doesn't deter him from keeping you within arms reach.
Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back, fingers lightly dragging back and forth over your tingling spine, as you both exchange hello’s and hugs to the group friends in attendance scattered around the backyard
While Tommy is busy tending to the food on the barbecue, Joel and you are caught up listening to Paul, Tommy’s old army buddy and the newest hire at Joel’s construction company, share stories from his and Tommy’s time together in the military. Both of you enthralled by the recounts of close calls and embarrassing moments for the younger Miller brother, only to be interrupted by a flustered Tommy calling for Paul to grab plates and napkins from inside.
The minute you’re alone his hand is wandering south, grabbing at the meat of your ass and pulling you flush against him. It’s the first moment you’ve been alone since arriving and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to take advantage of it.
You smile into his kiss, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as he leans in close, his hushed words fanning across your ear.
“You look so damn pretty in that dress. Can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” The husk in his voice nearly makes you melt further into him, not even surprised by the cool dampness coating the silk panties you chose today, just for him.
“Hmmm— your hands haven’t left me since we got here.” You muse.
“I like havin’ you close.”
“You’ve made that quite obvious, Miller.” You joke, before he’s silencing you with another less than chaste kiss.
Dinner is served as the sun begins its descent. The air dropping a few degrees cooler, has goosebumps pricking at your skin. But it’s nothing compared to the shiver Joel is causing you, his hand nestled between your legs under the table.
You find it hard to focus between all the lively conversations being volleyed across the table, dishes being passed around and laughter cutting through friendly onslaughts of fuck you’s.
Joel mindlessly massaging at your thigh as he talks. Filling everyone in on the projects he’s started around the house, while your brain is muddled with thoughts of Joel’s hands and only Joel’s hands.
You can’t be positive it’s a deliberate move— or is it? You’ve been with him long enough to know what a calculated man Joel is.
He leans forward to reach for the ketchup bottle, his other hand shifting further up your thighs, his demeanor is cool and even as his fingers brush over your clothed mound. His fingers slowly gliding over the very drenched fabric. You swallow a thick gasp as your hips cant forward on instinct, chasing his retreating hand, your cunt aching and desperate for more of his teasing.
The wink he shoots you as he settles back in his chair is all the evidence you need to know his plan worked.
“Look like you saw an infected zombie or somethin’. Everything okay, Baby?” You want to kiss the devilish smirk right off of his handsome face.
“Y-yeah.” Horny and desperate for you, but fine.
“Y’sure about that? Those perked nipples of yours are tellin’ a different story, Sweetheart.” He quietly calls you out. You glance down to see the thin fabric of your summer dress and lace bra are no match to conceal the hardened peaks— your body so easily betraying you is nothing new.
“We should head out soon.” You say softly, Joel nods immediately, the silent agreement has you eager for what’s in store when you arrive home.
The ongoing conversation among the others is now muted background noise as you stare into his needy eyes, your hand cupping the side of his face as your thumb traces over his plush lower lip.
“We’re headin’ out. Thanks for havin’ us, Tommy. Hope to see y’all again sometime soon. ‘Night.” Joel rushes through announcing your departure, pulling you from your seat, his body crowding behind you as he ushers you towards his truck.
“You’re not even gonna stay and help clean up?” Tommy pouts from his chair.
“You’re a big boy Tommy, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Joel yells over his shoulder with a two finger wave as the gate clicks shut, home and you are the only thing cares about for the remainder of the evening.
“Fuuuuuuuck— Joel!” Your mind slowly seeping into a deep pleasured state.
There’s little recollection of leaving Tommy’s house and the drive home, other than Joel’s unrelenting need to have you close at all times— no complaints from you whatsoever.
Joel’s firm grip on your hand when he all but drags you to the bedroom of your shared home, clothes stripped at the foot of your bed in a hasty fashion.
The accumulation of Joel’s fiery touches throughout the day were merely effortless foreplay, all considered and aiding in his profound efforts that have been unfolding since arriving home.
“You look so fuckin’ good. Look at us, Baby.” The low gravel of his voice is overwhelming, but laced with pure authenticity. You lift your head just enough as your eyes slowly flutter open, trying to catch a glimpse of what he sees in the full length mirror positioned on the wall across from where you both are in bed— a mere coincidence that it was placed in there when you moved in.
“‘M l-looking, J-joel.”
It’s exquisitely striking how your cunt flutters madly against the cool air of the bedroom. The sight alone is better than any pornography you’ve consumed together.
Joel sitting up against the headboard holding your body close to his. Your back firm and tacky against his chest, breathing in rhythmic unity.
His feet hooked around your ankles, keeping your legs spread out as he hones in on the two luring forms glaring back in the mirror, a view that will forever edge out his own fantasies of you.
His large hands hold the weight of your breasts with pleasing dexterity, whispering the most beautiful obscene things into your ear.
I love your body. I love the way you moan. Missed your pussy all day. God, you’re always on my mind. Fuck, you’re makin’ me so hard. Louder. Fuck. Look at me.
Your gaze finally catches Joel’s in the reflection. It’s direct and overwhelming, his warm brown eyes flickering with a bold desire igniting a ripple of goosebumps over your body.
You’re both possessed by the new wave of arousal, glistening in the afternoon light, as it ardently drips from your pussy down to the bed sheets. Desperately craving to be devastated by this handsome man.
Joel’s thumbs swipe over your hard sensitive nipples, pulling a breathy gasp from your lips. Your head falling back into his shoulder as you let the sensation fully consume you.
“You like that don’t you?” You can only manage to hum in response, which encourages him to continue his work over the pebbled skin.
“Y-yes. You know how much I d-do.”
Joel knows this. Well enough too. It’s a normal occurrence that you find yourself in this identic state. Your body buzzing and exhausted, molded against Joel’s. His cock weeping and begging for relief, snuggly nestled between your roaring bodies. His skilled hands reducing you to putty.
Rolling. Pinching. Pulling. Flicking.
Each thorough caress sends an intense and deep feeling of delirium surging through you. Building and building the delicate structure for an elaborate release.
“So perfect all laid out for me. You gonna come for me?. I think you’re almost there, Baby. Just need a little more, huh?”
“Joel— I-I don’t think I can this time. N-need— oh fuck Joel! I need a little m-more.”
You’re cut off when you feel Joel’s fingers faintly slide over your throbbing clit and bypassing it completely. He swipes through your wet folds. You think he might finally give in. Plunge one, maybe two of his thick fingers into your aching heat, caress your velvet walls until you’re coming undone. Your body jolts as he gathers your arousal on his fingers, then abandons the ache and returns to his previous ministrations.
His arousal slick digits glide over each of your perked nipples. The wet eager strokes have your back arching as you moan into the room, your body tense and vibrating.
“Joel— yes! That feels so good! fuckfuckfuck! I— I’m so close Joel! D-don’t stop!” You let out a sharp moan.
“I ain’t stoppin’, Sweetheart. So fuckin’ beautiful. Can’t wait to see you come, Baby— just let go.” His hushed words paired with the way he rolls your stiff nubs between his fingers is just the push you needed, your climax vibrant and beautiful as it erupts, spreading through you faster than you can announce its existence.
Joel watches you fall apart in the mirror. Your breathless state has his hips grinding against your lower back as he continues to clutch your breasts. The glimmering beads of sweat rolling down your throat and chest, joining the layer pooling between your bodies.
It’s the view of your cunt that nearly takes him out, empty and pulsating, he’s never been so proud of a sight. He adds the mental snapshot to his backlog of imagery he’ll store of you until the end of his days.
“God, Joel. That— that was amazing!.” You say, peeling your satiated body from his.
Turning to face him, you sit in the space between where his legs are sprawled open, your hands massaging at his calves. You take in how enticing he looks, laid back on the stack of pillows, a slack grin on his handsome face as he slowly pumps his hardened cock.
You’re completely entranced by the sight, all thick and tempting. Biting at your lip teasingly, a hand all but subtly slips between your legs and your fingers begin delicately tracing circles over your clit.
Husked gasps falling from Joel’s parted lips as he alternates his movements. Long languid strokes over the length of his shaft then pausing briefly, his grip stilled and tight around the base as the reddened tip slowly leaks.
You gasp as the warmth of your sex engulfs your fingers triggering another gush of arousal to trickle down your thighs. Your other hand still connected to Joel’s leg, grounding your floating form to him.
Joel's eyes scan you, absorbing your blissed-out state, his hand matching your own steady movements, rhythmically moving over himself, his breaths now emerging as heavy pants.
Your fingers enthusiastically moving in and out with ease as your hips writhe keenly in search of the perfect position. The remnants of your previous orgasm are still lingering, beautifully aiding in the build up of the next. Your brows pinched in pleasure.
The room is dense with sexual humidity. Doused in a mixture of the ambered vanilla candle you burn frequently and a sweet ambrosial musk.
“Fuck— how’d I get so fuckin’ lucky with a woman like you? fuck!.” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, neck taut and nose flared as he tries to breathe through how good he’s making himself feel. “Why don’t you— shit —c’mere.”
“Mmm-ah! T-tempting, Baby. ohgod! Think I’ll stay put. I’m actually enjoying the view quite nicely from here. You look so good like this, Joel.” Seeing him accept your praise is a vision you’ll never get tired of, allowing himself to give in and take what he needs.
Your fingers graze over that delicious little spot with success, a cresting wave set in motion, the sensation causing your walls to convulse. A moan escapes your lips, paralleling with Joel’s own sounds. Your head involuntarily tilts back, as you ride out the euphoric moment.
“Shit! Sweetheart, I’m— I’m gonna— Hnng!Fuuuck!”
Joel’s fist erratically pumps over his length, his eyes locked on your naked form, ragged breaths and eager moans. Your eyes struggle to stay focused through the hazy chaos, drawn to his flushed body, paralyzed with an ample dose of desire as he nears his finish.
“Come for me, Joel.” You’ve shifted yourself a little closer to where he’s eagerly working himself over, encouraging him to let go.
He does— white hot ropes of cum paint his stomach, his actions slowing as the last few drops spill over his hand. He breathes out a deep sigh, giving you a lopsided grin as his arms fall to his sides. Eyes heavy with a mixture of lust and love.
“Fuck— now will you c’mere?”
You draw your lower lip between your teeth, now hovering over where his now softening dick rests against his stomach. You don’t break eye contact as you lean down and lick at the sticky mess.
“Goddamn— Ah!” Joel hisses, the warmth of your tongue dragging up the length of his cock. Lapping at the dappled layer of silky brininess covering his lower abdomen, purring with satisfaction as you swallow it.
“God.Damn.” You echo his words back to him, your lips move over his— he groans at the taste of himself still on your tongue.
A slow, content smile forms on your face as you tenderly kiss his neck, followed by a series of soft kisses down his chest and stomach.
“Gimme a minute— just need to regroup and then I’ll be ready to go again.”
“Whatever you say, my love.” Joel’s arms wrap a you and you melt into him. “Or I can draw us a hot bath and we can soak until we’re prunes.” A yawn perfectly placed at the end of your suggestion.
“Sounds like a plan. How ‘bout we nap then soak?” You sleepily hum in response.
"Love you, Sweetheart," Joel whispers, before pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“Mmm— love you, Joel.”
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feyhunter78 · 1 day
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Think I'm Gonna Call it Off
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Description: You have been Prince Aemond's secret for years now, but a certain visiting Stark opens your eyes to what could be.
Inspired by the line “think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me baby.” From Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan
This was ridiculous, you are a Lady of a fine house, virtuous, beautiful, intelligent, kind and your embroidery skills have been praised by Queen Alicent herself and yet here you sit waiting for Prince Aemond to return. To return and not spare you a single glance. Not until you are tucked away from the prying eyes of the court, until he is confident no one can hear your conversations.
You wonder if it is foolishness that keeps you sitting there, leaning against one of the many windows in the library, searching the skies for Vhagar’s great form set against the clouds.
You have rejected a number of suitors, worried your father and mother, made yourself seem all but undesirable in the eyes of the court, all because the prince swore that he would tell his mother. That he would announce to the whole of the realm that he loved you, and that you would be wed as soon as possible. He does not want a Valyrian wedding he said, he has no taste for it, he wants to honor you, honor his mother, and the Seven whom he worshiped.
“Lady y/n?” Lord Cregan Stark’s voice rolls through you like thunder, the deep baritone, the rouge northern brocade that made him pronounce your name just slightly different from everyone else, just enough that shamefully it makes you feel special.
You turn your head away from the towering window and give him a small smile. “Lord Stark, I did not expect to see you here.”
He returns your smile and leans against the wall; arms crossed over his chest.
Seven help you, he did have such strong looking arms, the sight of them never ceases to distract you. Even his thick tunic, and his dark-colored cloak could not hide them. Truly, everything about Lord Stark seemed strong. Queen Alicent said it is common of a Northmen, that they must be strong to survive the winters, while Lady Frey said it was the wolf’s blood in his veins. That all Starks had unnatural strength, speed, and stamina granted to them by the Old Gods. Neither woman’s explanation accounted for the man’s looks though.
Lord Stark is quite handsome, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones with a close-cut beard, more stubble than a full beard though, and gray eyes like a winter storm. His dark hair is around Prince Aegon’s length, though often tied back and much better cared for. His lips are full and healed, having been cracked and dry from the drastic change in temperature on his trip down south. A small scar runs through the corner of them, on the right side, giving him a more roguish appearance. He said he had gotten it as a child, playing around with his father’s sword. And he was tall, so, so tall, towering over you in a way no man has before.
Then he laughs, the sound warming you to the bones, making a blush rise to your cheeks. “Do not tell me you think me a barbarian, as the others do. I thought you knew me better than that, little fox.”
The name he has graced you with never fails to make your heart stutter and disrupt any coherent thought you might have had. It is a reference to your house sigil, you know that. But the way he says it, how his accent wraps around each syllable, makes it seem far more…intimate than simply a friendly moniker given to you by a man who does not know your customs.
Aemond calls you his, or some sweet term of endearment in High Valyrian in private, sticking to Lady y/h/n in public. You wish he would use your name, you have told him time and time again, even the Queen and Princess Helaena use it. You have been at the Red Keep for nearly a decade now, been in the Princess’ inner circle of friends for almost as long, it would not seem strange to others.
“Lord Stark—”
“Cregan, or Lord Cregan if you must add the lord, as I have told you before.” He corrects you, but not unkindly, his lips curling up into a fondly exasperated smile.
“Lord Cregan, I did not mean to imply I believe that libraries were not your preferred place to spend your time, only that I thought you would be joining the other men on their hunt.”
He glances out the window towards the Kingswood. “And I would think you would be taking tea or sewing with the other ladies.”
You have been caught.
“Ah yes, well, as you know, Prince Aemond is to return today and Princess Helaena asked me to keep watch. She loves her brother very much but has to entertain the other ladies so could not watch for him herself.”
You pray Helaena will forgive you for involving her in a lie.
Cregan hums low in his throat and his eyes flicker to you, picking you apart. “Did she now?”
You nod, not trusting your own voice.
“The prince is lucky to have such a vision of beauty to return home to.” He says, running his eyes down your form, drinking in every detail with something akin to reverence? Though you know you must be seeing things. Cregan Stark would not look at you in such a way, there is no reason to.
“Princess Helaena is quite beautiful.” You agree, trying to keep an air of propriety around you even as your mind screams at you to flee for fear you will say something utterly stupid.
Cregan reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment caressing your cheek. “Aye, but she is not who I speak of.”
You? He means you?
You duck your head, cheeks warming once more. “You flatter me.”
He shifts forward, invading your space, the scent of forest air and woodsmoke filling your nostrils. “Is it flattery if it is true?” He is so close, still a respectable distance but close enough that you can reach out and touch him, can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
“I believe that is a question for the maesters.” You tease lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.
“You are a smart girl, little fox, I am sure you can figure it out.” He teases back, a glimmer in his eyes that excites you.
No one teases you; no one jests or challenges you like Cregan does. You assume it is because they all know Prince Aemond has claim on you, or because you are a lady, but you are educated, and strong-willed, you enjoy a good challenge. You enjoy Cregan speaking to you like an equal.
“Truth is relative, as they say.” You offer, cocking your head innocently, barely able to keep a smile off your face.
“Aye, some say. Though your beauty is truth, relative or not. Surely you must know that.” He counters.
“Vanity is not a virtue.” You say, meeting his gaze. The storm gray of them has softened to a dove gray, mirth dancing within them.
“Neither is lying and yet…”
“Are you accusing me of lying, Lord Cregan?” You gasp in mock outrage.
“About knowing that your beauty is what every man dreams of returning home to? Yes.” He says, his tone light and blithe, but his words, and the way his eyes darken for a moment? It takes your breath away.
“Your beauty, little fox, is one that haunts men’s dreams, that keeps them fighting when they are the last standing. That they keep in their mind as they clash swords, traverse through snow and sea.” He continues, holding your gaze, voice no longer light, but heavy with intent and promise. “It is a beauty one wishes to see the moment they return home before all else, or any others. A beauty that should be admired in all lights and shadows. The setting of the sun and its rising, the summer days and winter nights, one to be cherished.”
You break away from his gaze, a twinge of sadness in your chest. Aemond has never spoken to you in such a way, he has waxed poetic about your beauty, flattered you, lavished you with sweet words, but it has never felt the same as Cregan’s did now. Guilt replaces the sadness, and you toy with the edge of your sleeves. You should not be engaging with Cregan in this way, it was not right, even if it made you feel…something. “You are too kind, My Lord.”
Cregan reaches for you, breaching what was proper, and taking your hand in his. They are so much larger than yours, so warm, so gentle. “Have I spoken out of turn?”
“No, no, I am just—I am a maiden of the South, Lord Stark, I am not used to such forwardness from a man I am not courting with.”
“Honesty, it is honesty, though I apologize for my forwardness.” Cregan says, subconsciously stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Either way, I am not used to it.” You say heart calming with each stroke of his calloused thumb.
Cregan’s brows furrow. “I have heard tales of—the other noblemen, they speak highly of you. Of your beauty, your kindness, your wit, are they all struck dumb by your very being, is that why no one has praised you as you deserve?”
You feel you should say something about Aemond, but what could you truly say? There is no formal betrothal in place, he has not publicly staked his claim beyond a possessiveness that those who spent enough time in court could see. But nothing is ever outwardly stated.
You go to speak, but Cregan stops you. “My apologies, I should not have asked such a thing, how are you to know what lies within the minds of man?”
“You are correct, I do not know their minds.” You say instead and bury down any explanation involving Aemond and his invisible claim.
A dragon roar fills the air, the window vibrates with the force of the sound, and your eyes shoot back to the window. Prince Aemond is home.
“Or they fear the mind of one man and thus hold their tongues.” Cregan says, releasing your hand.
“The prince? I—he—we…it is not—” You cannot get the words out fast enough.
“I will take my leave.” He says, remaining for a moment searching your face until it seemed he had found what he is looking for, and left.
You watch him go, admiring the strength in his stride, when he turns back, a strange look in his eyes. “At the feast tonight, might I have a dance?” He asks.
“With me?” Your heart is pounding against your chest.
He nods.
Footsteps rush by the open library door, and you can hear Princess Helaena calling out to Prince Aemond.
You stand, smoothing out your skirts with shaky hands, why did he make you so nervous? Or is not nerves, but excitement? “Of course, Lord Cregan, I would be honored.”
“I will hold you to that.” Cregan smile, then he disappears down the hall, and you are left alone to hurry after the princess.
Aemond does not call for you until hours after he has returned. When you knock on the door to his chambers, dressed already for the feast, he bids you to enter in a soft voice, exhaustion tinging each word.
You hurry to his side, clasping one hand between your own. “My Prince, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you have returned safely.”
He uses his free hand to cup your cheek, that half smile, half smirk he wears so well on his well sculpted face. “I was only gone for a mere moon, and I was never in any danger, did you doubt your Prince, ñuha nūmio?”
“No, of course not, but…you would not tell me where you were going, no one would.” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“That is simply because it was not information you needed.” He says, brushing the pad of his thumb across your lips.
“But if I am to be your wife, would it not be prudent if I were to know where my husband is?”
Aemond’s eye, a brilliant amethyst, hardens, then he looks away and sighs. “Lady y/h/n I have told you patience is a virtue, and your virtue is what I adore most.”
You bite your lip, internally chastising yourself. You know better than to rush him. “My apologies.”
Aemond frees your bottom lip from between your teeth and brushes his lips across your forehead. “Do not take my words so harshly, your eagerness is quite endearing, and I to wish for us to be wed, but it is not yet time.”
You lean into his touch, “I understand.”
“How have you been amusing yourself while I was away, ñuha nūmio? Did anything exciting happen?” Aemond asks, his thumb resting beside the corner of your lip.
“Not much, it seems you had taken all the excitement with you. Though as you know Lord Stark’s arrival has caused quite a stir and now two moons later still is. Many ladies are jockeying for the position of Lady of the North.” You tell him, giggling at the memory of some of your friends’ actions.
“But not you?” Aemond asked, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“No, I am yours, why would I wish to be Lady of the North?” You reassured him, brushing back a lock of silver hair from his face.
For a moment, you are struck with the feel of Cregan’s fingertips, rough and calloused but gentle against your skin. The warmth of his skin, the softness of his gaze, the earnestness of his words. What was he looking for when he stared into your eyes, when he took in every detail of your face?
“If you are too distracted, you may leave, My Lady.” Aemond says, the irritation in his voice drawing you from your thoughts.
“No, no, I am not, I am just so happy you have returned.”
Aemond hums in acknowledgement, dressed in his feast finery as well. “I have missed you.”
Your heart flutters. “I have missed you as well.”
He releases your chin to trail his fingers down the column of your neck. His cool touch causes goosebumps to follow in his wake, and he dips his head low to press his lips to your cheek, then begins to follow his fingers with his lips. “I have missed you, your voice, your smiles, your touch.”
You shiver in response, grabbing onto his doublet.
“Do not touch, you will wrinkle the fabric.” He warns, even as his hands grip your waist.
You remove your hands, clasping them behind your back.
“I will not be able to dance with you tonight, mother has brought another girl for me to try and charm.” He says, into your skin, his silver hair brushing against your exposed décolletage.
Your heart sinks. “Not even one dance?”
Aemond sighs and presses a final kiss to the hollow of your throat. “You know I detest it as much as you do, but it is my duty.”
You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to appear on your waterline.
He smooths down your hair and turns you towards the door. “I will try to find time for one dance, but I cannot make any promises.”
His words lift your spirits, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Aemond.”
“Prince Aemond, we have guests tonight.” He reminds you, then he shuts the door, and you hurry back to your chambers.
The Great Hall is decorated beautifully, and you sit at your table with the other ladies of Helaena’s circle. A wine glass in hand as you watch Aemond dance with Cerelle Peake, her brown hair pinned up with a net of gold and sapphires, her umber gown flowing beautifully as she twirled.
“Come now, y/n, you will never be asked to dance with such a scowl.” Johanna Swyft says, poking your cheek goodnaturedly.
“No, she will never be asked to dance because the prince glares at anyone who tries.” Mina Redwyne says, clinking her glass against yours in silent sympathy.
Johanna shoots her a look. “Do keep your voice down, Mina.”
You take a long drink from your glass, emptying it, then setting it down, scanning the crowd for another servant. “Perhaps I do not wish to dance.”
“I am crushed to hear that Lady y/n.” Cregan’s presence makes every lady at your table sit up straight, and you turn to face him.
“Lord Stark.” You say, bowing your head in his direction.
He holds out a hand, and you remember how it nice felt, the phantom warmth still lingering. “I do believe you agreed to a dance, earlier today?”
“Lucky.” Mina hisses, as Johanna juts her elbow into your side to prod you up and out of your seat.
You stand, and take his hand, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in your side. “I did.”
Cregan leads you to the dance floor, and you can hear your friends giggling behind you, much to your utter embarrassment.
“Your friends seem quite encouraging.” Cregan says, barely holding back a laugh.
“When they learned I have no sisters, they decided that they would act as such, apparently that means acting in a most embarrassing way.” You say, falling into the rhythm of the dance.
“I knew you had brothers, but I did not know you were the only daughter, that must make you very precious in your father’s eyes.” Cregan ventures, his large, warm hand pressed to yours as you circle each other.
“I would like to think so.” You smile, your heart aches for a moment with homesickness. “He could not attend this feast, he is too ill to travel, my eldest brother is here on his behalf, accompanied by my second-eldest brother who is here to drink and presumably enjoy the Silk Streets.”
“I never had a taste for brothels.”
“Nor I.”
Cregan smiles and twirls you. “I thought not, for I have heard you are far too virtuous.”
You shrug. “It is more, I do not wish to spend the coin.”
Shock flashes across his face then he laughs, repeating your words quietly with a chuckle, and as you are spun back into his arms you cannot help but laugh as well.
“You are clever, little fox, I will miss you when I return home.” He says, his eyes searching you once more.
Your heart stops, and you trip over your feet. “You are leaving?”
His grip on you tightens as he helps you right yourself. “Aye, I have here for two moons, that is far too long, my people need me.”
You do not want him to leave, you will miss him dearly, his laugh, his expressions, his stories. You will miss the walks you had taken together, the discussions that ran late into the night, just outside your chambers, the men standing guard pretending they were not listening. The way he presented you with the pelts of animals he had hunted, regaling you with the tale of how he felled it. Who would challenge you now, who would make you laugh, would listen to your words, and respond as if you were an equal, as if your sex did not diminish your intelligence?
“When will you leave?” You ask, unable to keep your voice steady, so you spin away from him to give yourself a moment to smother your emotions.
Cregan pulls you back into his arms, trapping you with his steady gaze. “In a few days time.”
“Oh…” You manage to choke out, swallowing hard, your eyes on your feet.
“I have been meaning to tell you, there just never seemed to be a good time.” Cregan says sheepishly.
You nod, still staring at the floor. “Well, I will miss you.”
“I will miss you too, y/n,” he says softly, then he slips a finger under your chin and lifts it gently. “In all lights, in all seasons.”
Tears blur your vision, and you hastily blink them away, not even noticing he has said only your given name, no title attached. Cregan’s warm thumb catches any stray tears that fall, and you lean into his touch, desperate for more of that something he had made you feel before. That something you realize he was always making you feel, and that he is making you feel right now, though it is tinged with grief. “Cregan, I—”
“Lady y/h/n, I believe I promised you a dance.” Aemond’s voice is steel, ice, the frigid fear that ran through the veins of Vhagar’s victim, and you hurriedly wipe away any remaining tears plastering on a false smile, before you turn, Cregan’s other hand still on your waist.
You drop into a curtsy. “My Prince, that you did.”
Cregan’s hand lingers, and your heart lurches in your chest when the warmth of it is finally removed.
Another song has begun to play, one you love dancing with Aemond to. It allows for close movements and lingering touches that you always long for with him.
“I thought you did not wish to be the Lady of the North.” He says, his eyes picking you apart as Cregan’s did but there is a cold methodical feel to it that makes you feel utterly and horribly exposed.
“He was merely being kind, no one else had asked me to dance.” You protest, falling into the rhythm as you had before.
“No one else should, you are mine.” Aemond say, spinning you out, and then back in.
His hands burn through your gown, your skin, meeting bone, and before you would have loved it, relished the feeling, but now you feel they are too hot, your skin prickles uncomfortably.
“I like to dance; I do not get to dance when you are occupied, and you are often occupied.” You say quietly, your head bowed ever so slightly.
“I had them play your favorite song, as a reward for your patience.” He says, ignoring your words. “Do you like it?”
“I do, thank you.” You smile and raise your head, hoping to catch his eye and find it brimming with affection. That would soothe your wounded heart, would banish the grief you feel at Cregan leaving.
Instead, his eye is elsewhere, you follow its gaze to see it land on the Peake girl. You do not blame her, do not hate her, though your blood turns to fire in your veins, and you brace yourself for what you are going to say next.
“When are we going to be wed, I have been patient for many years, and you never tell me when my patience will be able to end.” You say, holding your chin high. You are not a Peake, but you still have pride.
His eye flicker back to you, his grip tightening. “Are you truly asking this now?”
“Yes. Yes, I am, because I am tired of waiting, tired of watching as you charm others, tired of being shunted to the side because even though you will not claim me, no one else is allowed to.” You can no longer keep your emotions contained. “I want to be happy Aemond, I want to be happy with you, but I am not happy.”
“Not everything is about your happiness, Lady y/h/n.” Aemond snaps.
You reel back as if you have been struck. “I did not say it was. You have been the one saying you wished to marry me, promising me you would tell the whole of the realm how deeply you care for me. I have done nothing else but dote on you and be patient.”
Guilt flashes across his face, and he reaches for you, but you push his hands away. “It is not so simple.”
“Do you see my face in your dreams, does it keep you fighting, keep you marching on, am I the first person you wish to see when you return home, do you wish to see me in all lights, in all seasons?” You throw Cregan’s words in Aemond’s face and wait for a response.
Aemond laughs, taking your hands, and bringing you back into the dance. “You have picked up a new book of poetry, I see.”
You cannot find it in yourself to be angry, the shock settling in, muffling everything until it is as if you are floating underwater. The rest of the night passes that way, you go through the motions, avoiding Cregan, your friends, shooting you concerned looks.
Then the feast ends, guards escort those too drunk to find their chambers, all others dispersing to their places for the night, or into Fleabottom for more revelry.
You try to sleep, but it will not come, Cregan and Aemond’s words echoing in your sleepless mind, until finally you throw off your blankets and wrap a robe around your nightshift.
You creep through the halls, no true direction in mind, letting your feet take you where they wished, when a flicker of umber catches your eye. Pressing yourself behind a pillar, you wait a moment then peek out.
“Lord Stark, might I be allowed to enter?” Cerelle Peake’s voice is soft, as was required for the late hours.
“Lady Peake, might I ask why you wish to enter my chambers?” Cregan asks, his words thick with sleep. His hair is loose, his night shift exposing his broad chest.
“I thought perhaps you might enjoy some company.” She says, as she takes a step towards him, moving to run a finger down his chest.
Cregan catches her hand and gently returns it to her side. “I do not wish for your company, Lady Peake. Please return to your chambers quietly, and I will not speak with your father about this.”
Cerelle scoffs and turns on her heel, storming down the hallway. You wait until Cregan’s door closed then follow her.
Halfway there, you know where she was going, you have walked these halls many times. Not wanting to further your own pain, you turn back to your own chambers, but your feet disobey you, and you find yourself in front of Cregan’s door.
You knock before you could stop yourself and the door swing open, a tired and angry Cregan standing before you. “Lady Peake, I do not need any comp—” His words die on his lips as he realizes it was you and not Cerelle. “Y/N?”
“All those things you said, about my beauty, about me, did you mean them? Truly?” Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, your chest tight, your bottom lip trembling.
Cregan rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Do not tell me you woke me only to hear more flattery.”
A sob escapes your lips. “I thought you said it was truth, not flattery.”
Cregan snaps awake, pulling you into his arms. “Little fox, I am sorry, I was half asleep, yes, yes, it is truth.”
You cling to him, gripping his night shirt, your face buried in his chest as you sob, every fear, every pain spilling out into his warm embrace. “Tell me you meant it, that you see me in your dreams, that you want me, in all lights, all seasons, that I am not destined to wait forever for someone to love me.”
“I love you, y/n, I love you, you do not need to wait, I will tell you as many times as you desire. I meant it, all of it, you haunt my dreams, you plague my waking thoughts, I want you in at any time, in any manner, or light, or moment I can have you.” He says, his voice is steady, and you can feel the vibrations of it deep in his chest, alongside the sound of his beating heart.
“I want to go with you to Winterfell, I want to be your Lady of the North, or even just your mistress if my house is not a good enough match, Cregan I do not care. I love you and all I care about is that we are not parted, that we are never parted, I do not think I will be able to breathe if we are parted.” You confess, looking up at him afraid to see what you saw in Aemond’s eye.
Cregan cups your face and kisses you, the taste of honeyed ale on his tongue, his hands warm as he keeps you close, using his foot to kick the door closed so he can press you against it.
Now in the safety of his chambers he breaks the kiss, your breaths intermingling. “You will not be a mistress, you will be my wife, none will come before you.”
“Will you tell your people, will they know?” You ask, your lips brushing against his with each word.
“I will wake the whole Red Keep to announce it now if you wish.” He says, his forehead resting against yours.
You reconnect your lips with his, his stubble brushing against your skin, but you pay it no mind, letting Cregan devour you, his hands moving into your hair, as you loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close.
He groans against you, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, delving in when you part them and exploring every inch of you. “My little fox, my y/n, my wife, my beautiful, clever wife.” He presses the words into your skin, heated lips trailing down to your pulse point.
“Husband.” You sigh, tilting your neck further exposing yourself to him, his teeth sinking into the skin claiming you as his own.
“Say it again for me, my wife, tell me who I am.” He breaths, sucking, and nipping at your neck, returning to darken the marks between creating new ones.
“You, Cregan, my husband.” You say, eyes snapping open when he releases you and stalks over to the window.
He threw it open and stuck his head out, shouting. “Y/N Y/H/N, is to be my wife.”
You rush forward and pull him from the window with a scandalized giggle. “Cregan it is the middle of the night.”
“Then at the very least a few guards heard.” He says, pulling you close and kissing you again, in full view of the window, the moon, anyone else who might look up, and it is exactly as you want it.
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skteezcursed · 2 days
Text
❝0025❞ — j.wy.
PAIRING. jung wooyoung x fem!reader.
GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. friends to lovers. kinda idiots in love. switch woo. switch reader. teasing. strip poker. mentions of alcohol. pet names (pretty boy, bunny, love, good girl, etc). praising. p in v. unprotected sex (please, do NOT!). oral (mostly fem receiving). creampie. kinda breast play. mostly filth, i'm sorry. lmk if i forgot anything!.
SYNOPSIS. you and wooyoung have always had a thing for each other, but never acted on it, until one day he gets tired of waiting once he notices you want him just as bad as he wants you.
RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.
WORD COUNT. 3,3k.
NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial. bye ♡.
IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.
CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡
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The idea that something could be so infuriating and exhilarating at the same time was confusing to say the least, but that was how you felt whenever Jung Wooyoung would look at you, the eyes that held a teasing and menacing gaze at the same time they burned to your skin as if you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. In all truth, you were, and he was expecting to make that known to you that night as he had managed to convince you to play a game of strip poker, the drinks you had earlier not helping one bit at keeping your judgment clear. 
It’s not that you were bad at card games, no, you were amazing at them, except when you had something – or several – to drink, which was now the case. Although Wooyoung wasn’t too far behind you in being intoxicated by the alcohol, he seemed to have kept his cool, almost sober as the cards were dropped and clothes started to fill in the floor you two were in, thanking heavens that you were alone with him at the comfort of your house, at the same time trying to ignore how the pool that was forming in between your legs kept getting more annoying as the time passed and your clothes were on the floor while he still had his pants and one sock on.
  “Oh, look at that…,” the grin that took over his lips made you want nothing more than to rip it out as you groaned loudly looking at the cards he was showing, winning again. “C’mon pretty, take some piece off.”
“I fucking hate you,” his laugh reverberated through the room as he watched you take one of your socks, trying your best to push away the cold that involved you as you were only in your lingerie. Sensing the disappointing look Wooyoung sent your way, you hid your smile trying to calm your heart. “Be ready to take off some pieces next time, you are gonna lose!”
The smirk was quickly back into his lips as he picked the cards shuffling them around his hands, as you forced your eyes to not stare at them, not to imagine how good they always looked on your thigh or how flustered you always were whenever Wooyoung was bold enough to touch you a bit longer and in a daring way. The truth was, you’ve always had a thing for Wooyoung, if you were honest, how could you not? He was the perfect mix of a gentleman and a menace, but never going as far as making you uncomfortable, whenever a slight hint that you were annoyed by his antics, he would stop and apologize to you. The fact he was a touchy person didn’t help keep your feelings at bay as you grew closer. 
As the cards were thrown, you tried your best to keep your poker face and legs crossed – the latter so he wouldn’t be able to see the wet patch on your underwear. Wooyoung was already cocky enough about all the attention he got, although he got shy, you knew he enjoyed teasing the living shit out of you whenever someone would compliment him or indicate they wanted him, but curiously enough, he never gave them another second of his attention, just politely declined and kept on with whatever it was that your group was doing, also leaning closer to you, even if it was to tease how many gorgeous women and men wanted him. 
Although you wanted to deny, you loved how he would decline all the offers that came his way. You weren’t much of a jealous type, but you were definitely a possessive one, as much as you wanted to tell your brain you shouldn’t be like that towards Wooyoung. Whenever he would tease about that, you’d play it out by saying that’s how you were with all your friends, receiving a laugh from Wooyoung as you felt his hands linger on your body, sometimes he would talk back against your ear, others he would pull you closer with some excuse, and on rare occasions he would just stay like that, fingers burning on your skin as the tip of his fingers would lightly caress your exposed skin. 
“YES! Told you I’d win!” You cheer with excitement as you draw your cards laughing loudly at his pout as his eyes bore into your figure and you notice a small smirk appear on his lips before he gets up, eyeing you with that menacing glare. “No, I don’t care what you say, I’ll win the next ones too and -”
As his fingers went to the buttons of his pants, your voice stopped at once, eyes ignoring the apparent tent that was there. Once his fingers found the zipper, your eyes averted to the ground, specifically to his feet that still had one sock, which brought an inquisitive look to your face, turning into shock as his pants fell at his feet before he took them out completely kicking them somewhere along with his shirt, the sock joining it not long after, bringing your eyes to finally look up, straight into his face, as the tongue was in between his lips along with the growing grin that made you clench your thighs together. 
The movement did not go unnoticed as you saw Wooyoung’s eyebrows rise and fall before he took a few steps closer to you, noticing finally how you had your legs up to your chest cursing at yourself as you realized he probably saw the wet patch in your underwear. As he lowered himself in front of you, the maximum you would allow your eyes to wander off was up to his chest, the tattoo on his ribs finally visible for you to see, for you to touch, to –
“My eyes are up here bunny,” luckily, you only clenched your own cunt and not your legs as the pet name reached your ears, as your eyes found his predatory ones, the smirk with a slight gap between his lips, allowing you to see his tongue moving inside his mouth… God, you needed it in – “still need to go a bit further up,” his finger found your chin bringing your eyes to finally meet his and stay there. “That’s it, I like when you look at me, especially when it’s like that.”
“Fuck off,” you push his hand away and turn your legs around in front of you, still covering the growing wetness between your legs, making Wooyoung chuckle before he returns to his position, “why didn’t you take your socks off, you are supposed to only take one piece of clothing.”
“Are you complaining, love?”
You rolled your eyes as you pointed to the cards in between you two, ignoring his grin as his fingers nimbly organized the cards, ignoring how his eyes were fixed on you.
“You're scared you will lose?” 
The scoff that came from Wooyoung made you finally eye him as he finished organizing the cards. “I was planning on suggesting something for the grand finale.”
“You definitely scared to lose though, you were the idiot who took two pieces of clothing, while -”
“You would do the same if you had noticed how hard my cock is as it only got harder as I saw how wet your cunt is,” that shut you up at the same instant, the deck of cards being left on the coffee table as his eyes never left you, the smirk growing as his tongue wet his lips, sitting cross legged in front of you as his hands found his thigh, chuckling as he noticed you finally noticing his hard cock against his underwear. “Are you still gonna pretend you don’t find me attractive and that you don’t want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you?”
  “Wooyoung, look -”
“What do I have to do for you to understand I don’t see you as a friend and that I want you to be mine?” As your eyes averted from his, you could hear the movement and see it from the peripheral view, only to get his hands on your chin, making you eye him as he towered above you, trying to ignore how his hard clothed cock was inches away from you. “I never wanted to be just your friend and I sure as fuck ain’t blind not to notice how you react to me, so are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless before becoming officially mine, or you still gonna be fucking brat?”
Instead of responding you palmed his clothed cock watching as his mouth opened with a gasp as you squeezed gently the length, his hands moving from your chin to caress your cheek as you smirked at each other.
“Tell me again how badly you want me, Wooyoungie.”
As you said that, both your hands moved to the waistband of his underwear, pulling slowly as you sustained eye contact with him, until you noticed that the tip of his red angry leaking cock was finally seen. Making you eye him before moving your face closer to his hip bone, leaving a tender kiss there as you slowly moved towards his cockhead, watching as it twitched slightly, his chest going up and down rapidly, making you giggle before your lips touched the tip making him groan loudly. 
  “Fuck you are gonna torture me?”
“I told you what I want, if you give it me, I’ll give it to you,” another kiss on his cockhead makes him throw his head back groaning before his hand go to the back of your head, your hair getting tangled within his fingers, “it’s a fair trade don’t you think, pretty boy?”
“Fuck I knew you were gonna be my end the day I laid eyes on you, bunny,” at that, you finally took the rest of his underwear, making his cock slap you in the face, making you giggle before holding it with one of your hands, putting just the tip inside, feeling his precum on your tongue before squeezing lightly the base of his cock. “Fuck, you are such a fucking tease, the way you’d sway your hips, how you always wear something that shows skin just to have my hands on you trying to take those fuckers who just want to fuck you away -”
“But you are one of the fuckers who want to fuck me, aren’t you Wooyoungie?”
“The difference between me and them my dear bunny, is that I can fuck you senseless and you’d still come begging for more, because you are just as desperate for my cock as I am for your cunt.”
At that he forced your head down his cock making you gag as you took him all in, tapping his thigh after a while, feeling him pull your head back and up, as his lips finally met yours. It was sloppy, desperate, lustful, it was all you both wanted and more and you felt him pulling you closer, his other hand found your waist going up your back to unclasp your bra, but never leaving your lips, not even when he felt your hardened nipples against his chest, pulling you closer to his, letting his cock press against your stomach.
You tried to put your hand in between you two, but he wouldn’t let you, keeping you firm against him as his tongue explored your mouth, God the amount of time you imagine those lips against yours, leaving wet traces until it finally found itself between your legs with your hands on his hair as he ate you out. 
“Be a good girl and sit on the couch, legs spread open,” he was as out of breath as you were, yet you complied taking off your bra first, but he stopped you as your hands went to your panties to pull them off. “Did I say something about taking these off?”
“Then how are you gonna eat me out properly?”
“Oh, my sweet bunny,” he hovered over you on the couch, the smirk forever present as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you, “I’m gonna make you scream my name in no time once I get a taste of you, and then I’ll fuck into oblivion until you beg me to stop.”
“Is that a promise?”
The doe eyes you sent him not matching the secret wish that question held, making his smirk grow as he pulled you in for another kiss, one of his hands going all the way from your waits to your knee as his other, found your breasts, pinching the hardened nipple making you moan against the kiss before he slapped it before massaging it all over again, making you whimper against his lips.
“It’s a promise since the moment I first saw you,” his lips lingering closely to your own as you felt his hand squeeze your thigh as his other moved up to your neck cupping your face pulling you in for another tender and innocent kiss before he started moving downwards, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses on your jaw and neck before reaching the valley of your breasts. “It’s a promise from the moment I saw your tits almost slipping out of one of those dresses you wore for the first night out we had as a group, where I almost had to fight a few guys who wanted what was mine.”
“I thought I wasn’t yours yet.”
“You were always mine, you just didn’t want to accept it,” his mouth fully involved your breast as his hand massaged the other, feeling the little random bites that would sure make their appearance in the morning, but you couldn’t care less as your fingers found his hair moaning every time he sucked and bit your breast, “so pretty like that and I barely touched you, I wonder how pretty you look all fucked out.”
“Why don’t you start by putting your mouth to use somewhere else?”
“Your wish is my comment, love,” he kisses you one last time before the wet trail of kisses happens all over again, slowly but surely accompanied by small bites here and there as Wooyoung makes sure to hold you down and spread your legs open as he gets closer to your clothed core. “Fuck, you are so wet, I wonder how much you can last.”
Combination of his words, eye contact, fingers gently taking the edges of your panties and the small kiss he leaves on top of your clothed aching clit, makes your hips jolt up, bringing a chuckle to Wooyoung’s mouth as he finally takes your panties of, a this line connecting your panties to your soaking core makes him curse before completely throwing your panties somewhere along with the other clothes. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you and make you cum on my mouth.”
Before you could say anything, his hot breath collided with your sensitive clit, a tender and contained kiss being left there as you could sense the chuckle Wooyoung left at your whimpers, reverberated through your body before your fingers found his head pulling him into your soaked cunt. His hands firmly on the back of your thigh spreading them open, your knees up to your chest as his mouth fully involved your clit, the kitty licks making you moan loudly and arch your back, feeling the small laugh he let out reverberate through your body once more.
“Woo, fuck-,” you cried as he lowered his head, his tongue at your entrance as his nose would meet your clit sending shocks of electricity and warmth through your body, “fuck, just like that Woo, fu-fuck, your ton-tongue, I can’t I-”
“Don’t you dare hold back, I wanna hear you, bunny.”
As two fingers entered you and his mouth closed on your clit sucking it, a scream left you. His fingers were quick, curling from time to time inside you making you squirm under him, as his arm could barely hold you still, but he honestly didn’t care, the sight of you shaking under him, your taste on his mouth, the feeling of your cunt clenching his fingers was sending him into overdrive and he wasn’t even inside you yet. 
The first wave hit you like a truck, the guttural sound that left your mouth followed by a scream as your fingers pulled Wooyoung’s hair was enough for him to finally let go of your wet folds. Once you felt his face away from you, your eyes met with his face glistening with your juice as he pushed his two fingers into his mouth, ravishing on your taste before pulling you in for another kiss. Your hands quickly ran down his chest to find his hard cock, before he stopped you.
“But Woo-”
“We’ll have plenty of that, unfortunately, if I don’t get inside of you right now, I’m afraid I’ll combust,” as you pulled him in for another kiss, your heels found his ass and thigh, pulling him into you, your hand finding his hard leaking cock and putting it at your entrance, making him whine against your lips as you squeezed him with your hand as to pull him closer to where both of you needed. “Fuck, I’m gonna break you, bunny.”
“You can break me as many times as you want if you are willing to put me back together.”
“God you are so perfect,” as his lips found yours with a tender and borderline innocent kiss, his cock pushed through your gummy walls making you gasp and moan against his lips before he hid his face on the crook of your neck, biting the base as he slowly entered your tight hole. “Tell me when I can move.”
A small shake of your head was all he needed before he started progressively thrust into you, his hips finding yours at a rapid pace as both your moans and grunts filled the house along with the sounds of your bodies. Wooyoung was a bit over average size, but he was girthy, so you were still getting used to his size as he fucked you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix every so often. 
His hands pulled your legs towards your chest making him hit a whole new spot inside you, making you scream at the feeling before his thumb start rubbing circles on your clit, your legs already shaking, mouth open, uncontrollable moans leaving both of you as his thrusts became sloppier, his kisses were messy and you clenched so much around him that ripped profanity after profanity from his lips. 
“Woo, I’m coming, fuck, please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, it feels so good!”
“Cum with me, love, cum all over my cock,” as if magic, his words hitting your core sending you to combust under him, shaking and screaming as you felt your orgasm reach you, feeling his warm seeds inside you as his thrusts faltered before coming to a stop. Your legs were numb, but your arms quickly wrapped around him, your nails scratching his scalp softly as his body weight held you against the couch. “You are just as perfect as I imagined you to be.”
Your giggle came with the small kisses and love bites he left on your neck before pulling out of you and placing some distance between you two as he watched his seeds leak from your fluttering hole, a smirk on his lips before his lips met with your clit making you cry a moan.
“Wooyoung, please…!”
“Sorry love,” his face was quick to go up to yours, a kiss on your lips as you both smiled at the current situation. “So, can I ask you to be officially mine, now?”
“I was yours from the moment we met, Wooyoungie.”
“That’s my good little bunny.”
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idyllic-ghost · 1 day
Note
I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)
ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭
warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI
Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.
"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.
The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.
"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.
"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."
You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.
"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"
Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.
"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.
"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.
"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."
It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.
"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.
"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.
In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.
"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."
"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."
"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.
His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.
"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."
Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.
"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.
"I like this more," you counter.
He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.
"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."
His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.
"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.
You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.
"Again?" you ask incredulously.
"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.
"It's late, aren't you tired?"
"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.
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kimberly-spirits13 · 2 days
Text
Break Ups and Make Ups
Jason Todd x reader
Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty
Word Count: 3233
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Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 
That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 
                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 
                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.
                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.
                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 
                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”
                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.
                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 
                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.
                  “It’s none of your business.” 
                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”
                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.
                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 
                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 
                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”
                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.
                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 
                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 
                  “Where’s Y/N?” 
                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”
                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 
                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.
                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.
                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.
                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”
                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”
                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”
                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.
                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said
                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”
                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,
                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 
                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 
                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 
                  “What do you have?” You asked.
                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”
                  “He never told me about that.” 
                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 
                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”
                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.
                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 
                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 
                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.
                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 
                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 
                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 
                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.
                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 
                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”
                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 
                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 
                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 
                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.
                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.
                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”
                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 
                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 
                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 
                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.
                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 
                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    
                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 
                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 
                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.
                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 
                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 
                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.
                  “You know it.” Dick said.
                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 
                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.
                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.
                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.
                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.
                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.
                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.
                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 
                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 
                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.
                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”
                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.
                  “You knew about that?” 
                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.
                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 
                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.
                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 
                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.
                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.
                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 
                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.
                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 
                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 
                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.
                  “Yes, absolutely.” 
                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.
                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 
                  “I did too.” 
                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.
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rafescurtainbangz · 2 days
Text
Mornings with Her +18 Minor DNI
Rafe x Female Reader
Ask: Can you write something about Rafe waking reader up out of her sleep by eating her out and when she wakes up her eyes start crossing?
Oral sex (female receiving), Rafe's POV, free-use
*unedited*
414 Words
Masterlist
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Rafe’s POV:
“Mmmphf… mmm,” my sweet girl moans, adjusting slightly on the mattress. I draw my hands away, freezing in place not wanting to stop just yet. Sure, we’ll keep goin’ but there’s something about those sweet little noises she’s makes in her sleep that drives me absolutely insane.
“Rafe,” she whimpers as her thighs tremble.
Her pussy flutters around my fingers as I earn yet another orgasm. I draw my fingers between my lips, cleaning her climax off my digits before pressing gentle kisses against her soft thighs.
“Perfect… So, fuckin’ perfect for daddy. Even in your sleep, you can’t fuckin’ help it,” I chuckle breathily against her cunt before lapping my tongue, cleaning up the fifth mess of the morning. 
Her hands sink down her body, running over her silky pajama top, her bottoms long gone. My girl’s fingers find their way into my hair, scratching at the root before twisting tight. She tugs, drawing me closer to her, letting out another sleepy little groan.
I lightly lick her clit as I tease her entrance, swirling two thick around her hole, gathering her arousal before pressing them inside. Her back arches off the mattress, legs drawing in close. I rest my palm on her thigh, coaxing her open again, pressing her legs into the mattress.
“Feels good. Huh? Bet it does. Always gonna take care of you, baby,” I whisper as I pull my fingers out, pumping them back inside as I suck on her sensitive bud.
Her eyebrows furrow again; breathing increasing by the second. Then it happens, her breath hitches, lashes fluttering open wildly. “Fuck,” she moans, not completely awake, her eyelids fall again.
You with me, baby doll?
“Too - too much,” she whines. I glide my rough hand up her body, playing with her tits, brushing the rough pads of my fingers over her sensitive skin, feeling her nipples stiffen at the touch.
Her pussy tightens around my fingers again; body unable to stay still any longer. “Rafe!” She gasps as she comes too, cumming as well. Her beautiful eyes cross slightly before pinching closed, another gust slipping from her lips as she soaks my hand and the mattress below.
I continue to finger fuck her through the spurt of her climax as she grinds her greedy pussy into me like it’s her very first orgasm of the morning. 
“Baby,” she sighs, relaxing deeply in the mattress as I make my way to her flushed face, my lips matching hers. “Holy shit… Thank you,” she giggles sleepily.
“Mmm… Good morning, princess.”
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