#i mean i always do but this took twice as long as it should have bc of said hard work
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DBF! Miguel O'hara x reader (part 6)
Tags: F/M, age gap (reader is 28 and Miguel is 48), taboo relationship, mention of medication, depression and racial prejudice, reader is a woman of color, angst, mention of death and grief, slow burn
Disclaimer: English is not my first language.
See the end for notes.
Words count: 6503
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Miguel and you had come to an agreement. You were in charge of the dinner from Monday to Thursday and he took care of it the rest of the week. But even like that, he couldn’t help but intervene into your cooking; no matter how many times you’ve told him to “trust the process”.
“But how can you be sure that it’s gonna taste good if you don’t even follow the recipe?”
You rolled your eyes, amused by his comment while adding a last spoon of spice to the boiling soup on the stove.
“Who needs the recipe when you got vibes and confidence?”
He was now the one rolling his eyes. He hated to admit it but your recipes always managed to taste edible, good even, despite your inability to follow a recupe. You should have already been responsible of a food intoxication but you didn’t. Cooking by your side was always an experience, truly. But it also managed to help him relax after a long day at work. You even looked more relaxed while doing so.
You turned toward him, holding a spoon of soup and asked him to try the soup with a small grin. Miguel could only oblige when you looked at him this way and so he leaned forward to sip a bit of the soup. And just like he had guessed it, it was delicious. He may not be the most objective taster out there but it was still good. The creamy and rich texture made him think that you must have some hidden talent because he has seen you cooking without a recipe and there was no other logical explanation for it to taste that way.
“So? Not that bad, huh?"
It was nice to see you were feeling better now. After only a few days of his attention, you were already back on your feet. His gaze traveled down your figure, noticing your now rosy cheeks and the way you looked generally better. Maybe the countryside had a better effect on you than what you could have expected? But he couldn’t ignore the tired lines on your face, meaning that you were still sleeping poorly.
“Miguel…” Your soft, questioning voice took him out of his thoughts and he blinked twice, collecting his thoughts.
“Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking…”
“About what?”
“Do you...still have trouble sleeping?” The sudden change in the conversation surprised you but you didn’t immediately deflate the conversation or tried to run away, which was a progress in Miguel’s eyes.
“Yes, I do.”
“Have you considered taking something to help you fall asleep?” Miguel wasn’t surprised when you shook your head no. He still asked: “Not even melatonin?”
“I used to take some when I was in high school but...it wasn’t strong enough.”
His eyes opened wider and he stuttered: “In high school?”
“I was an anxious kid.”, you simply replied. He didn’t have any trouble believing that.
“I could get you something more efficient if you want…” You turned off the stove and shook your head.
“I...I don’t have a good history with strong medications.”, you simply replie. Most doctors you’ve met so far were quite insistent, always trying to convince you to take those type of things. But speaking from your personal experience, you didn’t like how they made you feel. And in general you’d rather avoid any type of medication.
Miguel didn’t insist, thankfully, and he simply nodded.
“Well...if you need anything, you can always ask me.”
“I think I’ll stick with herbal tea for now but thanks.”, you replied while smiling. And he gave you back your soft smile. You seemed in a great mood and he thought it was not the right time to ask anything about your history with medication. Plus, he was not on duty anymore. He could simply enjoy this moment with you, without thinking about anything related to his job.
The two of you were setting up the table and he had to remind himself to leave a good distance between you. Nevertheless he still looked at you from the corner of his eyes, watching every movement you made, from the very tip of your fingers to the way you balanced your weight on your feet. It’s been a month since your arrival and Miguel has felt something changing inside him ever since. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but he has been waiting with so much enthusiasm for every chance to see you. Every moment you shared had become the highlights of his week. And you were more present in his thoughts than he wants to admit it. Your father had told him how much of a nice girl you were; saying things about how the two of you would get along so well. But Miguel had this feeling that your father may have underestimated just how good the two of you got along… Because he had the feeling that was he was feeling when you were together had nothing to do with friendship or what he was supposed to feel.
You have also noticed how closer the two of you seemed to be. It’s not a bad feeling but you would have never guessed the two of you would feel this comfortable in the presence of each other. Maybe Sarah was right. There was nothing wrong in asking for help… And Miguel has been a great help so far on so many levels. He didn’t just help with the house; you have the feeling that he helped you personally.
You’re taken out of your thoughts when you hear Miguel saying: “That color looks good on you.”
You looked down to where his eyes were. He was looking right at your sweater, an old one that you have found this morning in the back of your closet. You couldn’t remember exactly when was the last time you wore it or even when you bought it, probably during one of your phases in high school. It was bit loose on your shoulders and it hung loosely over your clavicles but the soft fabric felt like a blanket and the color really appealed to you when dressing up this morning. It was a soft lilac, almost the same shade as an aster.
“Oh thanks. It’s just an old thing, I guess…”
Miguel’s eyes have been nothing but locked on the way the fabric exposed your clavicles or the slope of your neck; especially with your hair tied up tonight. That color reminded him of a flower but he was not sure which one exactly. You reminded him of some flower. As embarrassing and corny as it may sound. He thought he was way past this at his age but it seemed like he was wrong. The mohair wool had caught his eyes ever since he came in the kitchen and he couldn’t stop wondering just how soft it acutally felt, how easily his fingers would slide through it…
He promised himself he would not look at you like that. He can’t do this. You trust him. Your father trusts him. He knew better than this and he didn't want to be that type of man who pried on younger, inexperienced and fragile women. He swallowed back the rest of his compliment, which turned into a lump in his throat and he looked away; just when your father called for you.
The three of you were sitting around the diner table, chatting lightly, joking from time to time. It’s been quite a long time since you shared a real meal with anyone. Since you began living alone, you were usually relying on take-outs and would eat in your bed in front of a show, enjoying the calm of your apartment after a long day at work. Your apartment… You had left a double of the keys to Sarah like most people would do so their plants would be watered and all these kinds of things. But there were no plants to water at your place, no animal to take care of… Sometimes this place didn’t feel like yours. But you had to move quickly after and that was the fest thing you had found. It was not objectively bad but...it was not your home.
The conversation had slowly shifted toward the topic of your school years when Miguel told your father about the restoration work that would begin soon. You still remembered vividly the walls of red bricks with the wine climbing on them, the windows decorated with the drawings of the students, the ugly yellows wallpaper… Maybe it was not a bad thing that this place was going to be renovated. It will be safer at least.
“It will be for the best.”, your father declared before taking a sip of his coffee. “Those buildings were already there when I was a student after all.”
“So they must be really old.”, Miguel joked and your father laughed heartily.
“Are you implying that I’m some type of dinosaurs or something?”, he asked with a grin and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling too. It was nice to see him laughing around. Miguel’s presence only did good things to him.
“I would never.” You looked at Miguel’s expression and he had the exact same grin on his face. But when he was the one smiling, your eyes would linger a bit longer on his face, on the curve of his smile… He caught you looking at him and you were suddenly very invested in the appearance of your cup of tea. Your father didn’t notice anything and kept joking:
“Well, you’re not getting younger either, my friend.” He added with a knowing smile in your direction. “Poor Y/N, you’re stuck here with those two old men…”
“You’re not that old.” You protested weakly and you were not sure who you were trying to convince of that and if you were only speaking about your father. Your father sighed and his smile looked a bit more contrite.
“Well, I’m not getting younger for sure…” He looked at the cast on his leg with a look you've been catching more frequently on his face recently. He was in pain. Not physical pain. But he had to come in terms with his mortality, with the fact that he was growing older...exactly the same way than when your mother died. “I just think you would maybe enjoy more the company of people of your age.”
You were not sure of where this is coming, so you slowly took a sip from your cup, waiting for him to finish talking. Miguel was also waiting.
“Why wouldn’t you try to link up with some of your old friends? You know, most of them didn’t move away.”
Miguel suddenly looked more intrigued and interested by the conversation. It was true that so far, you haven’t mentioned any of your past acquaintances. You couldn’t be this antisocial truly. With a shrug of your shoulders, you replied as casually as you could:
“Well, they must all be busy.”
“I’m sure they would be glad to see you too.” His soft tone didn’t fool you. You know how stubborn he could be when he had an idea in mind. So you asked: “What did you do?” His satisfied smile proved you that your assumptions were right.
“I called one of your best friends and asked her to come visit over. And she gladly accepted.”
“Who did you call?” Miguel watched your exchange like one would watch a tennis game, his head swinging from left to right.
“Actually I called a few people.” Your father said with a bright smile and that was when it hits you. He genuinely thought he did something good. As much as you appreciated his effort, you couldn’t help but groan, slightly annoyed. What were you supposed to say to your old friends? Would you even be able to talk with them or link up the way you used to? Would they even recognize you?
***
The next day the living room was filled with laughter and the faint sound of chit-chat. Sitting on the edge of the couch, you quietly observed your friends from high school. The atmosphere in the room reminded you of the time you would all have slumber parties in high school. Except that it was only 4 in the afternoon and that you had traded your snacks and corny movies for homemade cookies and old album photos.
The three women facing you looked nothing like the pictures you were watching and at the same time they couldn’t be more themselves than they were now. On your right Jane was no longer wearing the thick glasses she used to have when she was younger, having them replaced by lenses but the movements of her fingers reminded you of how she would always adjust the frame of her spectacles back then. She had already apologized three times for being late but who would blame a business woman like her to have more important meeting in her day? Assya’s cooking skills were still unmatched and you thanked the Lord for her cookies, delicately wrapped into a pink paper. Her calloused hands from all her work were still looking rough but your eyes could’t miss the wedding band on her finger. A bright diamond on top of a silver ring. And there was Margareth, Mag as she’d rather have you calling her, whose athletic silhouette was now draped under a delicate green tailor suit. Even under the large jacket, she couldn’t hide the impressive bump of her stomach.
And there was you who was giving “I peaked in high school” energy compared to them. But none of them seemed to address this or even wanted to make you feel uncomfortable. They seemed to respect your silence and they ware graceful enough to not comment on your tired face or rub too hard their happiness on the said tired face. None of them mentioned your mother as they keep flipping the pages of the album. Assya even slided a new box of cookies toward you when you were finished with the first one. So...it was a bit better than what you were expected.
Jane pointed at one of the pictures and started telling a story about this day. Her memory was quite impressive to you. You barely remembered that day. The four of you were looking at the camera with a bright smile. You were all sitting in your bedroom, during one of these infamous slumber parties. The more you looked at the picture, the more you realized that your friends were not the one who changed. You did.
The four of you were still down the memory train when the front door opened. It can’t be your father. As soon as your friends came in, he disappeared into the patio, saying that he wanted to give you as much space as possible. It could only be Miguel. It was a nice surprise for him to be here this early. There was something comforting into knowing that he’ll be back after almost every day...
You turned toward the door, a bit too enthusiastically, and watched him making his way toward the living room. He was the one in charge of the dinner tonight and he was carrying a crate full of fresh vegetables. His forearms flexed slightly when he lifted the box and for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes away from this sight.
“Doctor O’hara, I wasn’t expecting to see you there. Is this where you’ve been hiding all these weeks?” Assya asked with an amused smile while crossing her arms over her chest. She had told you she’s been working as a nurse at the clinic but it was only now that you realized what it meant. She knew Miguel. For some reason the small grin she gave him annoed you, wedding ring or not.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you there either. Do you guy know each other?” Miguel asked with a polite smile and all the women nodded in unison. His eyes stopped on the silhouette of Mag and he asked in a caring voice:
“How are you feeling today?”
She slowly patted her stomach and replied: “He’s been really quiet today. No nausea whatsoever.”
“Good. If you need anything, my office is always open.”
It was your first time seeing him interacting with his patients and colleagues, and again, you could’t believe that people like him actually existed. People who were so selfless, people who cared and who could genuinely talk to other beings. And for a second, you could picture him at the clinic, working, giving orders, taking care of his patients… Just how many parts of his life did you actually ignore?
Miguel was slightly amused by the sight of all four of you reuniting in the living room. Once again, it seemed that you have underestimated yourself and your social skills. Everything seemed fine. His eyes trailed over you, taking in your polished appearance. You tried to make yourself look a bit better for today and he actually realized that it was the first time he saw you wearing some make-up. It was just a bit of blush and lipstick but his eyes are drawn to the shape of your lips tinted in a deep carmine. The same color rushed to his cheeks and he looked away before saying in a firm voice:
“I’ll let you to your memories now, ladies.”
You watched him going to the kitchen, a bit disappointed. You were not sure of what just happened because it lasted only a millisecond but if you had listened to your body, you would have followed him into the next room. Instead you just sat there, quietly, while your friends started giggling. Assya was the first one to break the silence:
“I know I’m married but…”
“Please, don’t finish this sentence. I already know what you’re going to say.”, replied Jane with a growing smirk.
“Come on, you can’t blame me. He is fine.”
The two of them whispered in order to not be heard from him and you felt like you were back to your high school years when you would all tease each other about your crush. So, it looked like you haven’t been the only one noticing that he was attractive…
Mag gave you a knowing look from the other side of the couch and your eyes were drawn to the shape of her stomach. While Jane and Assya kept bickering around, you decided to shift the conversation away:
“So...when is it due?”
She must have sensed your uneasiness because she chuckled softly. You have always been awkward around children and maternity, so it was not a surprise. Again, her hand gently patted her stomach.
“In two months I think.”
“It’s a boy?”
She quietly nodded and as soon as this conversation begins, you found yourself unable to ask anymore questions. It’s not that you didn’t care but the topic of motherhood made you feel uncomfortable, even more so these last years… Hopefully she changed the conversation when sensing your discomfort.
“So...it seems that he comes here often?”
“Who?”
“Doctor O’hara.”
“Ah...yes, Miguel...well, he is here to help my father. They’re good friends and I think it’s good that they are hanging together.” It felt like you were trying to justify yourself or something. You cleared your throat and grabbed your coffee while Mag kept looking at you with a knowing smile.
“He is nice, isn’t he?”, she asked after a few seconds and you simply nodded slowly.
The rest of the afternoon went by pretty fast as the four of you got lost again in your memories. Assya was the first to leave because she had to pick up her kids at daycare and Jane and Mag followed quickly. Once they were gone, you let the silence of the house wrap around your and youfinally rested your face against the wooden panel of the door for a few seconds with your eyes closed. As much as it was nice seeing them again, you feltl drained of all your energy and you would probably need a few days to recharge your social battery.
The sounds of footsteps made you turn around and there was Miguel, looking at you from the end of the hallway, a soft smile on his lips.
“Are you alright?”
You leaned your back against the door for a few seconds as a migraine started hitting your head. He could sense that something was off and that you needed to rest despite your attempt at reassuring him. He slowly moved closer to you and only stopped when he was a few feet away. He didn’t exactly know what made him act this way but there was again this lingering need to take care of you in ways that would make him feel ashamed if he could admit it.
“I can leave you alone if you want…”
“No it’s okay.”
Your eyes trailed up and down his figure in the dim light of the corridor and your eyes locked on the apron he is wearing. The white fabric had turned yellow at some point and the blue flowers on it looked withered. On one of the pockets there was a small heart. You had embroidered yourself when you were younger, as a gift to your mother.
Miguel seemed to realize his mistake and he started to untie the apron. He didn’t mean to offense you by taking this memory of your mother out of the cabinets. He just took the first thing he had found to cover himself. He was about to apologize when your hands stopped his movements, holding his wrists firmly.
“Don’t take it off.”
Your voice was only a murmur but he clearly heard you. With a soft sigh, he intertwined his fingers with yours while your two bodies got a bit closer. The mere light from the window of the door looked like a halo around your hair and he has to catch his breath. The room suddenly fels like it had been completely deprived of air while he got lost in your eyes. What if he got closer? What if he held you in his arms, only for a few seconds? What if…
The questions rushed in his mind, pressing him to decide what to do. But he had the feeling that none of this is what you need at the moment, nor what he should do. The grip of his fingers on yours finally loosened and he stepped back.
“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.” You watched him slowly walk away before leaning back against the door. Your body slowly slid down the panel and you end up sitting down the floor, a mix of boiling, raw emotions that you couldn't identify lingering inside your chest.
When you were finally back inside the living room, you noticed that Miguel had left a glass of water and some aspirin for you. You smiled at the sweet attention and immediately swallowed one pill. He also had cleaned up a bit the room and yet, all the album photos were still out. Your father was sitting down the couch, absorbed in the old pictures, so much that he hadn’t notice your presence at first. You didn’t need to look over his shoulders to know what, or rather who he was looking at. In fact you’d rather disappear from the room rather than bring the attention to this topic but he caught the sound of your footsteps as soon as you started moving
“Hey…” he gently called you out. When he turned around, you caught a glimpse of the picture he was looking and you were unfortunately right. It was a picture of you and your mom. It had been taken the first year you all went camping in family. “How was the afternoon with your friends?”
“Good. Thanks.”
He was smiling in a way that would break even a heart of stone. With a tired sigh, you dragged your body to the side of the couch and sat by his side.
Your mother was holding you in her arms on the picture. You zere both wearing matching green windbreakers, an idea from your father because he was wearing the same one on the other side of the picture. There was something so comforting about staying in her arms like that. She was not a frail woman with he square-shaped shoulders, her burly arms tanned after hours spent in the garden and she was always carrying around her a scent like the one of a fireplace. You were sure that it was how a mother’s hug was supposed to feel for a long time in your life, strong, maybe a bit rough in the beginning like a mama bear holding her cubs. It was the only kind of hugs that could chase away the monsters under your bed or in your heads once you grew up.
Your father’s fingers glided over the page and you felt a bit uncomfortable. You squirmed over your sit, not knowing what to do. Should you offer a few words of comfort? Hug him? It would be quite appropriate but you were not sure your hugs would feel as comforting as hers.
He sensed your discomfort and flips the page. A large smile slowly crept up his face and he started laughing. It was a picture of you at a dance recital, around age 8, dressed as a large daisy. You cringed at the picture. Your chubby cheeks were squished by the fabric of your corolla and you were all red and sweaty, because of course the taffetas of the dress was too hot for the month of May.
“Dad, can we please ignore that?”
“No way, you’re looking adorable. And your mother spent so many time on your costume.”
The sound of your banter had attracted Miguel and he smiled when he seed that you seemed to feel a bit better. When your dad called him in, you felt a cold sweat running down your back.
“Dad, no.”
But the catastrophe happened too fast for you to react. Miguel sat on the other side of the couch and as soon as he looked at the picture, a goofy smile curled up his lips.
“No wonder you enjoy gardening. It’s like your natural habitat after all.”, he teased you gently. Your father laughed loudly at what you would have considered a pretty lame joke if it wasn’t for the adorable smirk that he was wearing. On the next picture, you were dressed as one of the rats for the ballet Nutcracker and you thought that you might actually die of embarrassment right now.
Miguel was having a blast seeing all these pictures that your dad always commented on with a funny story. Not only did he get to see an other side of you but he also caught the blush that crept up your cheeks and that slightly annoyed pout you were doing. Ever since he met you, he had never seen you embarrassed or really flustered. This might be the most emotions you’ve shown in one time and he quickly diverted his attention from the picture to your profile. After seeing the pictures he could clearly see how well of a mix you are between your parents. You got the lanky silhouette from your father, his long and thin face with the sharp eyes and pronounced chin. And from your mother, those curly locks, your nose with the high arch and those cheekbones… The said cheekbones were turning more and more flushed, their shade according well with the one of your tinted lips.
"Stop looking", he taunted himself.
As the pages kept moving and your dad talking, you slowly relaxed and your arm was now resting on top of the head of the couch. Just like Miguel’s. You were still trying to act unbothered the first time his fingers brushed against yours, thinking it might be an accident. But when it happened again, you were not so sure anymore that it was a mistake. Your two hands were resting behind the couch and your fingers were brushing from time to time, especially when Miguel was laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. At some point his forefinger brushed against your wrist, right against the edge of your sleeve.
You quickly pulled your hand back to yourself. Not out of discomfort but because you felt confused. This was not an invitation from your part...but you wouldn’t have minded for this contact to last a bit longer either…
Miguel didnn’t dare thinking that he was disappointed. Touching an inch of your skin even for a few seconds was still worth every hour of hesitation and turmoil that would come after it. How could your skin be so soft? So tempting? All when he had seen of it so far was your hands and a bit of your neck?
Still unaware of what was happening behind his back, literally, your father turned to an other page. It was a picture of you on your last recital. You were around fifteen years old, dressed in a dainty pink tutu, glitters sprinkled all over your hair. You had spent hours cleaning them off with your mother afterwards...
“This was your last recital?”, Miguel asked but it was your father who replied.
“She had to stop after that. You know how it is? High school, college entrance exams…”
Miguel didn’t reply but he did furrow his brows and nodded with a serious look on his face. He would have liked to ask more questions about this part of your life that looked so surreal. How come this little girl with that bright smile and her face covered in glitters turned into the woman you were today? He could’t also help but wonder if you still remembered a few dance moves…
But your father had flipped the pages once again and now there was an other picture of you with a boy around your age. His skin was the same shade as yours and brown curls flowed down to his shoulders. The two of you were standing close to each other, at a respectable distance with a shy look on your face. Miguel knew too well this type of picture and when he looked back at you, he was expecting to see some reaction on your face. Maybe you would be a bit embarrassed, flustered or at least nostalgic? But to his surprise you had a blank expression on your face. He didn’t know if it’s good or not. Before he could ask anything else, your father said in an obnoxious voice:
“You were such a cute couple together, David and you. You remember that day, Y/N?”
“Mhh...not really.” You seemed pretty unaffected by the picture, which was not something that Miguel was expecting from someone who just saw such a memory.
“Oh come on...you really don’t remember? It was for your birthday. You remember that nice necklace he gave you?”
You nodded without saying anything. You knew it was useless to argue with your father over this topic. He had always loved David, almost like a son. The fact that his parents were from the same diaspora as your father only made them get closer and your father had always assumed that you would end up with David. He was a nice guy, sure. But there was a reason why you never kept seeing each other after high school and you remembered it while looking at the picture. There was no chemistry between you, even a blind could see that, whatever your dad liked to think.
Miguel’s eyes were still locked on your profile and the more you were looking at the picture, the more anxious he was getting. Why were still silent? How was he supposed to understand the way you were looking at this picture? Was this good? Bad? Did you miss that David guy? Why was he suddenly just realizing that you must have had former partners? And why did he make him want to take your hand back in his, to pull you closer to him?
Your father didn’t seem to realize that there was a slight tension because he kept digging his own grave:
“It’s been a long time since you saw each other. Did you even call him? You know, I think he would be really happy to talk to you…” and with what was supposed to be a playful nudge, he added: “And I heard that he is single.” Miguel quickly caught the pink hue on your cheeks and it made his stomach twist as if he was sick. Were you embarrassed? Or was there more to this reaction? God, he hadn’t realized until now how hard it was to read you and he wished he could ask you directly. But...he was not entitled to ask that of you. Who was he to think that?
“Dad, I’m not going to call him.”, you replied while organizing the albums on the coffee table. “We had a good time and now it’s over. What happened in the past belonged to the past.”
Miguel almost sighed out of relief but your father was quick to reply: “Maybe you should start thinking about the future...I mean, you’re almost thirty and I haven’t seen you with anyone in a few years now.”
That was a low blow.
Even if it had been said in a rather understanding voice, you couldn’t help but feel your blood boil. This was the last conversation you wanted to have with your father. Miguel felt like his presence was unwanted and he tried to make his way out of the living room as quietly as possible. He would be in the kitchen if you needed help but there was no need for him to make you feel like he was prying on this delicate moment.
***
It was not your first time having this argument with your father. In fact, you remembered the last time it happened. It was a few years ago when you decided to move with your last boyfriend. Most parents would have welcomed such a good news but your father wasn’t too happy about it. First of all, he never really liked this man. History would prove him right, but it was not for the good reasons that he disliked him.
“He is not what I imagined. He is..."
Not like us.
That cryptic sentence took all its sense when you introduced your boyfriend to your father. He didn’t fit in. Your father wanted someone who could speak his language, who could share his memories of the country they left…
“And you’re living with him without even getting married?”
“You know what the people will say!”
“I raised you better than this…”
Hearing him screaming was somehow less hurtful that his resigned voice. He could sound so disappointed sometimes that you almost wondered why you even kept trying.
But at least at the time, you had your mother by your side. She always knew how to calm him down. She was like this bridge between the two of you and somehow she was the only one who would manage to help you find a compromise.
At least when she was alive.
***
You couldn’t run to your mother after an argument anymore and you’d rather stay alone than talk with anyone else. At least, that’s what you used to think. Now that you were back in this house, you might as well go and see her.
The next day, you grabbed your windbreaker and headed out of the house before your father had waken up. You had spent the last evening, alone in your room. It’s been so long since the two of you fought; you had forgotten how bad it could hurt sometimes. The thought that Miguel could have heard your argument made you feel so embarrassed. What was he thinking now?
The air around you was crisp and you could feel the scent of the pines and the muddy ground this early in the morning. It was a perfect day for what you were about to do… The gates of the cemetery had barely opened when you walked inside. It was a few days before Halloween and a few people would come and clean the graves soon, change the flowers… Seeing all the decorated graves made you regret not bringing anything. And given your father’s state, no one probably brought anything to your mother’s grave.
She was right where you remembered her. The plaque with her name stood at the foot of a small hill. A vase with withered flowers, a decoration with a dove...exactly how you remembered it to be. You carefully sat in front of it and watched the black marble. A few remaining raindrops from the night slid down the material, on top of her name engraved on it.
“Beloved mother and wife.”
Finally, some peace and some silence.
You didn’t know how long exactly you stayed there, sometimes contemplating the grey sky, sometimes the delicate intricacy of the letters of her name. Next time you would bring some flowers you promised as much as her than to yourself. At some point while looking at the build-up of stormy clouds in the sky, you noticed a large silhouette, all too familiar, moving down the hill.
What was he doing here?
You tried to get up despite your numb legs and the silhouette seemed to walk faster in your direction, his long coat flowing behind him. It was only when the first raindrops fell down that he managed to join you.
Miguel didn’t even dare asking you anything, if you were feeling alright, who you came to visit… the answer to each question was obvious. Instead, he simply offered you shelter under his umbrella and a tissue for your wet eyes.
“Do you want to stay a bit longer here?”, he finally asked after a few seconds. You shook your head and the two of you made your way out of the graveyard. His arm was holding yours, guiding you gently toward the exit, his sturdy shoulder brushing against yours from time to time.
When you reached his car, Miguel opened the door for you and then sat in front of the stirring wheel. But he didn’t feel like taking you back home now. And neither did you.
The rain was hitting the roof of the car in a loud, discorded melody. You could barely see the world outside through that much rain. A slight fog had covered the windows with the warmth of the heater, and yet your shoulders don’t stop shivering.
Miguel’s comforting hand gently squeezed your shoulder as he tried to make you look this way, a vain attempt to anchor you in the moment.
“Hey…”
He was slowly getting a bit more worried that you’re not responding but he doesn’t dare insisting. His hand stopped at a few inches from your face before he slowly leaned back into his seat. The silence inside the car was only troubled by your heavy breaths as you tried to compose yourself. After a few minutes, he couldn’t hold it anymore and asked: “Do you want to talk about it?”
You were not sure if he was talking about the argument with your father or your visit to the cemetery but you still shook your head. He felt a bit relieved when he heard your voice, even if it was barely a whisper:
“I’m fine, Miguel.”
An other heavy silence filled up the space inside the car and quite surprisingly you were the one breaking it this time, again.
“Why were you here?”
His eyes seemed suddenly very focused on the stirring wheel and he absented-mindly started rubbing his pointer finger with his thumb while looking for his words.
“I needed to visit someone.”
===============================================
Notes: This was a pretty messy chapter, so I want to thank anyone who took the time to read this.
I'm currently working on the seventh chapter and just so you know, I'm very impatient to write it.
Taglist: @safixiovi @laysmt @reverieblondie
My Masterlist!
< part 5 / part 7 >
#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#atsv#astv miguel#miguel 2099#fanfic#spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel x reader#dbf!miguel#miguel angst#daddy issues#older dad bf#this fic has turned into my therapy#i'm sorry
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a wintery ranger commission
#i love it when a character has an aesthetic pinterest board#yes give me a vibe#dnd#Dungeons and Dragons#personalised character sheet#ranger#elf#i worked so hard on this one#i mean i always do but this took twice as long as it should have bc of said hard work#had to get back into practice for these#soc art#beast master#commission
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tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.
His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.
“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”
You felt him twitch inside of you, and in search of a distraction, your gaze fell to the collection of papers fanned out over the desk in front of you. You knew you were supposed to be reading them, but the text seemed so impossibly small, and your last round of medication was still clouding your senses, making it hard to focus on much of anything beyond the throbbing in your core, the feeling of his cock stretching you open despite your body’s best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like ‘unfit’ and ‘dependent’ mixed in with the rest of the benign text, but when you tried to put it all together, none of it made sense. It was all you could do to check the boxes Harper pointed to, sign your name on any dotted lines that hadn’t already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, he’d let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldn’t imagine having to sleep in his office, again.
“And you’ve been so cooperative, too,” he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. “Always taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind – the pinnacle of an ideal patient. Honestly, sometimes I think I could tell you to stick your hand in a vat of boiling water, and you’d do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.”
It was him moving, this time – shifting forward until your stomach was pressed against the blunt edge of his desk and he was all-but draped over you, his body pressed flush against yours. You let out a pitchy whine by way of protest, but Harper didn’t seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. “Almost done, little mouse. Just one more page.” He was practically cooing as he took you by the wrist, guiding your hand to the bottom of the final page. Two thick, cutting lines occupied most of the available space, his neat signature taking up the first. He brought you to the second, almost daunting in its vacancy, his index finger tapping against the back of your hand. “You remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?”
It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadn’t been planted so deeply inside of you. “If…” you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. “If I do, can I go home?”
Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadn’t meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didn’t want to be anywhere but this hospital, his hospital before he frowned and prescribed you another electrotherapy session, another dose of the small, white pills that left your thoughts blurred and your body hot. But, anything you might’ve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. “Of course,” he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. “Sign, and I’ll take you home tonight.”
For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to smile. Hastily, smudging the ink more than once, you scrawled your name across the brutal line, dropping the pen and going slack against Harper as soon as you were finished. There was another open-mouthed kiss to your throat, then the dip of your shoulder, and he dragged you back onto his lap with a playful squeeze to your thigh, a grin pressed into the crook of your neck. You squirmed unabashedly, now, your hands graspingly weakly at the arms of his chair in hopes of pulling yourself to your feet, but Harper held you tight. “Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?”
“I need to— You said I could go—”
“Just give me another minute, darling.”
His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.
“I want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#degrees of lewdity#dol#harper the doctor#dol harper#harper x reader#yandere harper#dol harper x reader#yandere drabble#yandere degrees of lewdity#degrees of lewdity imagines#yandere dol#dol imagines
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Clarisse x Reader - This is a Life
Clarisse x gn! reader
Reader is from the Aphrodite cabin, but only for the plot!
An- Around 3.3k words, sorry it took so long to get out! Hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know if I should write something that kind of does more of a deep dive into this, because I feel like something is missing or something
Warnings- Weapons, fake dating, blood at one point, affection, petnames, guy named Andrew (apologies to any one named Andrew), Aphrodite is a pretty okay mom in this. Pls tell me if I missed anything!
Everybody in camp recognized you as the favored child of Aphrodite. People looked twice when you walked by, flowers bloomed in your direction, and mirrors wished they could reflect you.
Clarisse is the favored daughter of her dad, Ares. People feared her, flowers looked away as she passed, and only a select few could stand to be close to her.
But even those who were close kept a great distance.
That was what was similar between the favorite Aphrodite kid and the favorite Ares daughter.
But even that was comparable, for she was a daughter, and a daughter could never compare to a son in her fathers eyes, whilst your mother seems to love you unconditionally.
You and Clarisse weren't close by any means, but you had always caught each other's attention on some level.
For you, it was how she sparred. Muscles flexing, covered in sweat, and a wild and free grin spread across across. You could find beauty in her that was no wheres else in the camp.
For her, it was the way you held yourself and how you were with young campers. Your slight confidence, the care you have for each camper, and the way you treat others. It was admirable, considering the way that Clarisse was probably the opposite of you.
“-risse, Clarisse, Clarisse!” Clarisse brook out of the slight stupor she was in and looked across the table where her sibling was calling her name and waving his hand around. “Oh, thank the gods. I about almost called over an Apollo kid to check on you.” She rolled her eyes as he laughed a bit.
They were in the dining hall, for it was lunch. Her plate was still quit full as she looked down at it. She was hungry, but she felt as if there was something preventing her from eating.
“Hey, would you look at that.” Her brother was looking past, his eyes holding questions. She turned her head to look over her shoulder and scoffed. There you were, holding your tray and standing talking to Percy Jackson, who was sitting alone at his Poseidon camp table.
That Capture the flag game happened a while ago now, but it was still upsetting how many people still like that kid, even after what he did, although it makes sense with all of the things he has done.
Her grip on her fork tightened, and she glared hard in your direction. Her brother snorted. “You really like them, huh?” She whipped her head back to look at him.
“What? Who?” She softened just slightly after he said your name. “Where did you get that idea?”
“The way you two look at each other. There's a rumor going around that you two are secretly dating each other, but we all know that you would never.”
“Never what?”
“Date anyone. Especially them.” She scoffed again.
“What do you mean?”
“You're not… an emotional person. Everyone knows you couldn't even make a relationship actually work.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Fine then.” She slammed her hands against the table and got up, making her way over to you. Percy noticed her first and scrambled to sit up straighter and to not smile. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he nodded his head in Clarisse’s direction and you laughed a little.
“Hey Claris-” you lifted one of your hands up to wave, but once she was close enough she took that hand in hers and then wrapped her other arm around your waist, pulling you towards her in a kiss.
The whole camp seemed to go quiet, and while it wasn't the most emotional kiss, Clarisse was very passionate in how she was kissing you, it was overwhelming to say the least. Your tray dropped, spilling food all over the ground and making a loud crash. Your hand found its way to the back of her neck and you gently tugged on her curls and twirled some of the baby hairs at her nape around your fingers. She broke off the kiss, looking you right in your eyes as you were flustered and tried to reclaim your breath.
“Um, what the-'' Percy began, but before anything else was said Clarisse tugged on your hand and ran towards the forest with you.
“Clarisse, what was that a-”
“Date me.” She blurted out the words before her mind could tell her to not to.
“What- this is super out of the blue, even for you Clarisse!” Clarisse rolled her eyes.
“We can fake dates then. Just for a few months or so.”
“How is that even relevant?!?!”
“If we fake date, then none of it will be real. And then, I get to prove something, and you…well, I can make sure people dont bother you.” You narrowed your eyes at her.
“But why?” Clarrise sighed deeply and your eyebrows furrowed more.
“Look, people already think we are dating, my sibling thinks I could never be in a relationship, and I don't hate you. Much.” She then looked you up and down in a way that almost made you wish that you were invisible.
“Now, how well can you act?”
The shock of the century happened at camp Half Blood the next morning at breakfast when Clarrise showed up with you attached to her arm. Jaws were on the floor and every table was turned towards your direction.
Clarisse had a proud smirk on her face as she survived the dining hall. Some part of you also felt weirdly proud as well, as if having your arm intertwined with hers was the reason you were at this camp anyway.
She moved you in the direction of the Ares table, an arrangement the two of you had settled on while setting up rules and guidelines. You would sit with her at her table, at least come to most of her training sessions and sit next to her at the bonfires. She would visit the strawberry fields and lake with you, join the craft classes you have with young campers, and on occasions, she would allow you to place a kiss on her while wearing lipstick or lip gloss, making sure to leave a mark.
You both also agreed on minimal kissing, which was a shame since she was a good kisser. Any other types of touches were pretty much guaranteed if the two of you were near each other.
“Goodmorning.” Clarisse greeted the rest of the table, untangling her arm from yours before setting her tray on the table and then sitting down. You did the same, and in an instant, Clarrise wrapped her arm around your waist, situating her hand on your stomach comfortably. You scratched a bit closer to her so your thighs were touching.
A chorus of morning greetings left various peoples mouths and Clarisse hummed a bit. She reached for a bag of apple slices and ripped open the small bag with the help of her teeth. You giggled a bit and nudged her side.
“Honey, that was kind of weird. You know you could've just let go of me, right?” She stared into your eyes mischtifully.
“You lost me at let go.”
It took everything in you to not burst out laughing as a few people around you literally gagged. She winked at you and you grinned at her before the two of you each turned back to your breakfast.
Your chin sat on both of your palms as you sat in the stands right outside of the training grounds, watching as Clarisse took on another camper in a dual. Capture the flag was coming up in about a week, but despite that, many people have come up to you asking if the news that had spread around camp was true.
“Hey, babe, did you see that?” Clarisse was jogging over to you, a smile on her lips. You smiled back at her and once she was close enough moved to stand between your legs, her hands trailed up your thighs lightly before they landed on your waist. You tried your best to ignore the shiver that went through your body.
“I missed it. I’m sorry hun.” You put one of your hands on her shoulder while you fiddled with one of her strands of curls with the other. She let out a breathe, and you could almost swear she was pouting.
She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching your ear. “You're doing good, yeah?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” you whispered back. She moved a little bit back and smirked.
“Good. You keep doin’ that, 'kay sweetheart?” she patted your thigh twice before turning and running back to her training. Your heart skipped one to many times during that interaction.
Please Mother, let me survive this.
The next week and a half went pretty much like that, with you and Clarisse glued to each other's sides for the entirety of the day. She was even somehow able to convince Chiron to put the Aphrodite cabin on the red team.
You were with Clarisse now, getting ready for the capture the flag game. Your armor sat heavily on your shoulders as you did your best to fix all of the straps while following your “girlfriend” and listening to her bark out orders and plans.
Some of your siblings were grouped together all complaining about how much stuff they had to do compared to when they were on the blue team, but you knew that some of them were grateful that Clarisse knew that they were capable to do things that the other cabins could do.
Clarisse looked behind her where you were still struggling with your armor. She sighed and moved closer to you. She carefully took your hand in hers and then tighten your straps so that way it was secure. You watch her face the whole time, finding the way she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration to be quite cute.
“There. You ready to do this?” She looked up, pausing when her eyes met your. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before your eyes flickered to the ground, or at least any wear that wasn't her face.
“Yeah, I am. What did you want me to do again?” She huffed out a laugh and then moved past you.
“All you need to do sweetheart is to follow me.”
Even though you were out of breath, you continued to follow your fake girlfriends footsteps.
Well, it wasn't like you had much of a choice with how tightly she was holding your hand and tugging you along paths.
Out of nowhere, a group of people from the blue team jumped out of the trees and began to attack. Clarisse let go of your hand and brought out her spear, running forward and taking on two people at once.
You took out your provided sword and prayed that your trainings with Clarisse would pay off. Your sword clashed with the sword of a boy from the Hermes cabin, and you recognized him as a guy named Andrew, someone who used to follow you around and flirt with you before you and Clarisse became a temporary item.
“I’ve been wondering if I could even get you alone.” Andrew backed you away from the rest of the group and more into the trees.
“I have a girlfriend, Andrew.” You made sure your voice was stable and hard. You hoped you could get your point across to him, but this is the guy who couldn't take a hint from you before, so it was evident that he wasn't going to start now.
“Come on, everyone knows that you like me. We can tell that Clarisse pressured you into the relationship. The two of you weren't meant to be.” You tripped over a root, sending you falling, hitting the ground hard and hurting your back in the process.
“Me and you were meant to be together. Couldn't you see that I was flirting with you? ‘Cause I could see that you returned the feelings with how you flirted with me.” Your eyes flickered for any type of escape from his anger and jealousy, but there was no safe way out with how he was practically sitting on your stomach. It made you sick with how close his face was to yours.
“Well,” you carefully moved your hand to twirl a longer strand of his hair between your fingers. It was straight, especially compared to Clarisse’s. You tried to ignore how wrong this felt, and you tried to push away the urge to gag. If using the charm you had gotten from your mother would get you out of this, then so be it. “I had no idea you felt like that, sweety. What can I do to make it up to you?”
Charmspeak wasn't against the rules. After all, this was the gift that was given to you from your godly parents.
You watched as his eyes followed your hand as you began to softly caress his face.
This has to be one of the most disgusting things you have ever done.
“So you do like me! I knew th-” Andrew stopped his sentence as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he flopped off of you to the side. You jumped up, finding yourself in front of your savior.
“Clarisse! You knocked him out! Is that even aloud?!” Clarisse laughed and poked Andrew with the none sharp end of her spear.
“He deserved it. Easiest decision of my li…” you stopped trying to wipe off all of the dirt that had resided on your clothes to raise your eyebrow at her Clarisse.
She was staring at you, her mouth slightly open and an almost entranced look in her eyes.
Was there dirt on your face? Did you somehow use your charmspeak on her?
“Um, Clarisse, maybe we should-'' Before you could finish your sentence, Clarisse had brought her left hand up and gently slid her thumb over your cheek bone.
You guessed that you had gotten a small cut there, and from the small flash of red that appeared and her thumb, you guessed that you were right. She moved it away a bit, and then she pushed back a strand of hair that had begun to obstruct your vision. She kept her hand there then, and you brought up your hand to touch her wrist, a grounding move for you were starting to feel light headed. You stared into eachothers eyes, and what broke you apart was the flinching sound of the games ending conch shell horn.
The blue team had won, another year in a row.
Clarisse sighed and ended the contact, moving away and bending down to pick up your discarded sword. She put it in your hands.
“You weren’t too bad out there. And, you, huh, you looked, um pretty good too.” She nodded, cleared her throat and turned away from you, heading back down the trail, but not before using her foot to push Andrew out of the way more.
For some reason, that was the moment you finally realized how in love you were with your fake girlfriend.
That night, your mother appeared in your dreams for the first time. Sitting on the wood pierre that was feet above the water, with moon light reflected off the liquid, Aphrodite appeared in front of you. With curly brown hair and brown eyes, and that tanned skin that you could swear you had begun to memorize, your mom looked different from what you expected.
“I appear as what you are attracted to,” Aphrodite nudged your shoulder from where she sat beside you. She seemed to respond to what you were thinking. “For you, that's that girlfriend of yours.”
“Fake girlfriend. We aren't really dating.” Aphrodite laughed in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster. That laugh belonged to someone who now had your heart.
“Could… could you switch to look like someone else? This is kind of unnerving to me.” She laughed again and shook her head.
“I can't be here for long, my child.” She change the subject.
“Then why are you here?”
“You're in love somehow. I know that you probably wouldn't tell her without some sort of push.”
You stared at her. She was practically glowing, the sear fabric that was draped on her body floating.
“Hearts aren't meant to hurt, hunny. If you distance yourself, or try to break away from her and move on, then two hearts will get hurt.”
Silence fell over the two of you, just for a moment.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Am I… am I really your favorite? I mean, other people say that, but you've never given me a gift, and I haven't been on a quest, and this is the first time I've even met you. I just-”
“There are many of you, and I have love for each of you and your siblings. But yes, it could be said that I am very proud of you, and what you have accomplished.” Tears started to fill your eyes, though you weren't sure exactly why you were crying.
“Goodbye, my dear.” She softly pressed a kiss to your cheek.
And with that, your mother was gone once again.
Tears were running down your face once you woke up.
You moved off your blankets and got up moving towards the cabin's front doors. It was almost pitch black, and it was easy to tell that it was still night. Maybe just sitting out on the porch and thinking would do you some good.
But right when you were a few steps away, the door started to crack open.
Your mind jumped to many conclusions, like there was a ghost or one of your siblings had stayed out late with their partner. Then you caught sight of the hand that was pushing on the wood.
It was the same hand that has intertwined with yours, the same hand that had held onto your body all week. The same hand that you had seen wielding a sword for years.
“Clarisse?” The door stopped opening, and then Clarisse poked her head through the opening.
She whispered your name back, and you took note about how this was the most sheepish you had ever witnessed her to be. She backed up, and you went out of your cabin to join her.
“Hey.” she whispered.
“Hi.” you whispered back. “What's wrong?” You could swear that her hand twitched in the slightest, like she was about to reach out and hold yours but thought better.
“I, um, had a nightmare. You were the only place I could think to go to. It’s fine now though, so you should go back inside and get your beauty sleep.” She turned away from you, starting to go down the steps back to her cabin.
“Do you like me?” She stood still on the second step down. You walked towards her slowly, and you started to wish you had brought a blanket out with you. The night chill was starting to get to you, and you were starting to wish that you had that type of safe feeling.
“My, um, my mother visited my dreams tonight. And we talked, and I know that we havent really been dating, but i kike you Clarisse, and I kind of hoped, only if you want, if we could kind of be offic-”
A pair of lips crashed into yours before anything else happened. The passion from the first kiss that the two of you had shared was there still, but this time something felt so much more real.
You felt so many emotions, and so did Clarisse, and you knew that she was trying to convey them all to you like this.
Both of her hands were on your face, each one gently holding your cheeks so you could stay in place. Your hands were on her wrists, but you moved them to the back of her neck where you gently tugged on her curls. You smiled into the kiss.
Her hair would always be your favorite.
Clarisse pulled away from the kiss, and laughed when she saw your eyes were still closed. You glared at her a little, but your smile was still present on your face.
“I do.” Clarisse said. You hummed and tilted your head in confusion. Clarisse laughed again a bit.
“I do like you.” Somehow your smile got even bigger.
“So we can kiss anytime now?”
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
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How They Treat You During Periods - Jujutsu Kaisen
Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (Separate)
Summary: How some of the JJK men react to and treat you during periods!
Words: 1051
CW: SFW; Fluff; Domestic Fluff; Crack; Periods; Blood mentions.
AN: this a complex topic because everybody who menstruates has a different organism and a different dynamic, so this is very based on my own experiences, but i tried thinking about situations that could include more people ok :')
Please, do not repost or translate.
GOJO SATORU - More chill than you thought he would be. The first time you talked about it was when you had cramps during a date and tried to talk him out of doing anything.
He just came right out "Hey, there's nothing to be shy about! I'm just definitely not letting my woman suffer in front of me just to save face!"
He sits you down, holds you close and asks if you're ok. "If you don't have medicine on you, we can stop by a store to get it while heading to your place". Escorts you home, makes you tea and tucks you in to nap.
After you've been together long enough he's started getting real good at tracking your cycles and adjusting whatever plans you have. "Hm... honey, I've been thinking of taking some days off and heading to the beach, but next week would be no good for you right? Should we wait a little?"
He stuffs you in candy and treats if you're feeling down (sure he'll snatch some of those...).
One day you get a message from him:
"Babe SOS
Do we have any first aid home?
My nose is kinda bleeding...hehe"
"Toru!! You ok??
There should be some cotton balls in the bathroom"
When you get home you find him with a whole ass tampon stuck up his nostril...."Satoru!!! What the hell are you doing?!?"
"Oh hey, honey! Sorry, couldn't find the cotton balls but figured this was even better and it DOES work wonders!", he tells you with a proud grin on his face...
GETO SUGURU - Suguru may seem a little indifferent, but it's just that he doesn't want to step over your independence. He's trying not to overdo things and will only act after you actively ask for something.
That being said, if that's what you want, he's an expert in doing your chores and cleaning the house for you.
He was once doing the laundry and you caught him staring at your sheets.
"Something wron-" you gasp, realizing there's a big blotch of blood in it.
"Babe! You don't have to wash this one!" you cry, feeling your face burn red.
"What are you talking about? I was just trying to remember how to take off blood stains", lifting it out of your reach as you try to grab it. "Was it vinegar or lemon..." he mumbles, walking over to your kitchen cabinets.
He secretly enjoys that you get mellower and needy with him. You won't have to ask twice if you demand an extra tight hug.
Loves aromatherapy and gave you a whole kit with a diffuser and oils that ease pain and help with relaxation. If you don't use it he'll pout and nag non stop until you turn it on.
"Suuuguu...you're giving me more headaches than my uterus right now dear..."
"If you had it on from the start there would be no ache whatsoever, dummy!"
He's now GREAT with massages. You've always complained about how your back and thighs ache when you're menstruated, so he took some lessons to help you out with that.
NANAMI KENTO - With Nanami it's princess treatment all the way! This man thinks it's freaking amazing how you'll have to deal with this for so long in your life, through work and everything, and that you're badass for that. I mean, you're literally bleeding!!! That's concerning enough to happen to someone he loves.
So he'll put all the effort he can to minimize any discomfort you have on those days. As soon as it became a regular thing for you to stay over at his place, he purchased all sorts of tea, heat pads and asked you to tell him what pads or tampons he should buy to stock some.
He loves to have dates at home, so it's a win-win situation when you stay in; he cooks you something warm and lays around with you all day. "Is this position all right love?" While rubbing gently your stomach.
He also loves to give you useful gifts, so once he even went as far as to surprise you with a new care kit from a high end brand in a box full of products to pamper you.
The best to have around if you're out too. Never gets bothered if you have to go to the restroom too often and makes sure the place you're attending has good access to those.
ITADORI YUJI - Freaks out a little when you tell him you don't feel like going on a date because you're on your period. He forgot such things were a very real thing if he was dating you. Has the mindset that, as his S/O, your period is his period too!!
You're totally lost for words when he first tells you that.....he just means he feels responsible for your well being throughout this time.
Definitely asks Nobara for help on how to help you feel better.
He's a really active guy and always wants you to tag along and spend time with him, so he researched a lot about exercises that'll be better to practice during that time.
At some point in your relationship will text you:
"yo babe, I'm at the pads aisle
what's your pussy size??"
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI - Also chill about it. An absolute angel when it comes to being patient to you, who turns into a SAINT if you're on your period.
He just knows that there are better times to deal with any stressful matters than now, so it's only love with this guy for a few days.
He prefers to talk to you in person instead of texting, but if you mention being on your period, you'll get the sweetest messages all day long popping up on your phone to check out how you're doing.
"Love, did you eat well?"
"Hey, do you need anything?"
"Sunshine, hope you're having a good day"
“Never forget you’re amazing”
Secretly, has also consulted Nobara and his sister to get some tips on what he could do.
Gets his dogs to cuddle with you in bed, to keep your belly warm, if he's busy around the house.
He has a playlist with hours and hours of comfort movies you watch together when you don't want to leave the sofa/bed. He even watches your favorite shoujo with you if you ask!
A/N: also, yes, I do think Gojo and Geto being good parents (to Tsukimi, Mimiko and Nanako) have helped them learn about periods.
Interactions are always appreciated ☆* have a lovely day!
#milla a writes#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento x reader#itadori yuji x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#yuji x reader#megumi x reader
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A night to remember-Spencer Reid
A/N: Okay, firstly thank you for all the love on mind-games, honestly I might post the next chapter next week but I am not sure. Also, for some reason even if you @ is correct and everything, some times tumblr won’t let me tag you :(
Summary: Spencer is back from prison, and he’s changed but not in all the ways you want. You discuss with Spencer something you’ve been wanting to try and he is willing to give it a shot.
Content: Post prison Spencer. Fem!reader. Mean dom spencer. Sub!reader. Pet names/name calling. Degrading kink. Overstimulation. Orgasm denial. Begging. Established relationship. Smut (and some fluff). Spencer asks a lot of time for your consent (as they should, especially if you are in BDSM dom/sub relationship). Begging. Sex toys. Virginal fingering. Handcuffs(slight bondage ig) 18+
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It wasn’t a secret that prison, and the whole Cat Adams situation, had changed Spencer. It was evident in the way Spencer carried himself, the hardened glint in his eyes that pierced through the darkness. The weight of his experiences behind bars had etched lines on his face, transforming him into someone unrecognizable.
He seemed darker; he didn’t seem to mind having to kill in order to protect anymore. He had told you on several occasions that he would kill for you, well his exact words were; “you I’d kill for you. I mean if anyone ever tried to hurt you, I would make sure that’s the last ever thing they’d do.”
Though Spencer had always been protective, this was new, and while the rest of the team knew what he had been through recently had changed him, they had no idea just how much it had changed him.
Spencer had also changed how he was at home; he was no longer ‘vanilla’, but he wasn’t exactly rough. He treated you like a princess; he would not let you go to sleep until he had at least made you cum twice. And while you loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you, degrade you, to spank you and to deny you the pleasure he so often gives you.
But you didn’t know how to bring this up with him. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or like he wasn’t good enough and that you weren’t enjoying what he was doing. However, you also knew nothing would change if you didn’t bring this up with him.
One evening, as Spencer cooked dinner for the both of them, you couldn't help but find the perfect opportunity to broach the subject. The room was filled with the aroma of his signature dish, a comforting reminder of the old Spencer, and you felt a pang of nostalgia.
As you sat across from him, you took a deep breath and began, "Spencer, I know things have changed since your time in prison, but I need to tell you something that's been on my mind."
He halted mid-stir, his knife-wielding hand trembling slightly. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, trying to process the implications of your words.
"I want to try something new in the bedroom. I want you to be rough with me, to dominate me, to make me feel as if I'm entirely under your control. I mean don’t get me wrong I enjoy what you do now, but I want this, I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Spencer set the knife down carefully on the cutting board, wiping his hand on his apron before turning to face you. The look of concern had faded, replaced by a hint of curiosity and intrigue. He had always been good at reading people; this was no different.
"Is that all?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "You want me to be rough with you? To dominate you?"
You nodded, glancing down at your own hands, fidgeting nervously in your lap. A sudden surge of heat filled your cheeks as you spoke, "Yes, Spencer. I want you to control me. I want you to take me in a way that I've never been taken before. I want to feel completely vulnerable and at your mercy.
It was a request he had never received before, but he saw the raw desire in your eyes. He could sense the urgency in your voice, and the hunger that was burning deep within you.
"Alright, but I need you to trust me," he said, taking a deep breath. "This will be different, and it might be intense."
You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. You had never felt this way before, this desperate need to be dominated, to give yourself completely to him. The thought of it made you shudder with excitement.
“Well, we can’t do anything now, we need to eat, so you just sit there and look pretty for the time been while I finish dinner, okay?” Spencer chuckled under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The look in your eyes told him that this wasn't just some fleeting desire, it was something that had been simmering deep within you for quite some time. He knew that he had to tread carefully, as this was uncharted territory for both of them.
Spencer continued to prepare the meal, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He knew that he had to show you the intensity and control you craved without truly hurting you. He needed to make you trusted him completely, and only then could he truly take control.
As dinner was ready, Spencer dished up the meal and served it onto the plates. Sitting down, he took a moment to observe you. Your eyes were filled with a mixture of anticipation and a slight hint of trepidation. He knew you were scared, but he also knew that you trusted him enough to explore this new territory.
"You have my word," he said softly, looking directly into your eyes. "I'll take care of you, and I'll make sure you feel safe and cherished throughout this whole experience. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"
You looked into his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at his promise. Trusting him was easy, you knew that. You trusted him with your life, and that was no small thing.
"Yes, Spencer," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I trust you."
He smiled; relief evident in his expression. "Good," he said, taking your hand in his. "Then let's eat, and we'll talk about what this entails later."
As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. This wasn't just about trying something new; it was about exploring a side of your relationship that you had never dared too before. You knew it would be intense, but you trusted Spencer to guide you through it.
After dinner, you both sat on the couch, the dishes cleaned up and put away. Spencer turned to face you; his expression serious but gentle.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubts.
You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I trust you, Spencer. I know you'll take care of me."
He smiled, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. "I won't let you down," he promised, his voice firm and reassuring.
With that, he leaned in and kissed you lightly, a tender touch that spoke of the trust and affection that had always been the foundation of your relationship.
You watched as he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, his lips lingering on yours. You could feel his hand gently brushing your hair off your face, his touch sending a shiver through your body.
"You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and intense.
You smiled up at him, your heart racing. This was it, the moment you had been waiting for. You knew that it would be intense, that it would test your limits, but you trusted him completely.
"I'm yours," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
Spencer slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. He could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a testament to the desire that was coursing through you.
He stood up, towering over you, his body tense with anticipation. You could see the change in him, the alpha male dominance that had been dormant for so long beginning to surface.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.
You nodded, your heart racing. You were ready for this, ready to explore the darker side of your desires.
With that, Spencer reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation.
As you entered the bedroom, Spencer turned to face you, his eyes burning with intensity. He was no longer the gentle man you had known before, but a powerful and dominating presence that filled the room.
"Kneel," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.
You quickly obeyed, your heart pounding with excitement as you looked up at him. He stood over you, his muscles tense, his eyes fixed on your face.
"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "And you will submit to me completely."
You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself to him completely. He reached down and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his voice firm.
You did as he commanded, feeling a thrill of excitement as you stripped down to your underwear. He watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your body. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it.
He took a step forward, touching your skin for the first time. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.
Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently. You arched your back, thrusting your chest out to meet his lips, and he took the other breast in his mouth as well.
He stood up, undressing himself as he did so. You watched, mesmerized, as his body revealed itself to you. He was everything you had imagined and more.
He stood in front of you, his erection hard and ready. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped you.
"No," he commanded, his voice firm. "I decide when you touch me.”
You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. You wanted so much to touch him, but you trusted him enough to follow his lead.
"Turn around," he commanded, his voice low and seductive.
You complied, your heart racing as you did so. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, and you were ready to give yourself to him completely.
Spencer stood behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're mine, and I'm going to take you in ways you've never imagined before."
He slowly began to touch your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body. His fingers moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.
Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently.
"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation.
As you spoke, you felt his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. His erection was now pressed against your back, a reminder of what was to come.
He guided you towards the bed, gently placing you down on the soft sheets. You could feel the anticipation building inside you, your heart pounding with excitement.
Spencer climbed on top of you, his body hovering above you. He looked into your eyes, his expression intense and full of desire.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.
You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I trust you," you whispered. "I'm yours."
With that, he leaned down and kissed you passionately, his lips crushing against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring, and tasting you, as if to mark his territory.
You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, matched only by your own. His hips moved against yours, his erection pulsing with desire, and you knew that this was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when you would give yourself completely to him.
He slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. You could feel the tingle of his fingers on your skin, a reminder of the journey you were about to embark on.
He reached down and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. You felt the rush of dominance that flowed through him, a primal instinct that had been dormant for so long but was now fully alive.
"You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "And you will do as I say."
His eyes bored into yours, filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race even faster. You could see the animalistic hunger in him, the raw desire that couldn't be contained any longer.
He leaned down and nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, causing you to moan in pleasure. You could feel the heat of his body against your own, and you knew that there was no turning back now.
Spencer's lips moved up to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "You're going to love this."
You felt his erection throbbing against your thigh, a reminder of what was to come. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself completely to him.
He slowly moved his hand down your body, trailing his fingers along your side until they reached your inner thigh. You could feel the heat and desire radiating from his body, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.
As his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin near your core, you felt a surge of pleasure and arousal coursing through your body. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, wanting more.
Spencer's hand continued to explore your body, moving lower and lower until he finally reached your most intimate place. He slowly slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and wetness that welcomed him.
You moaned softly, your body trembling with pleasure as his finger moved inside you. He pulled it out and brought it up to your lips, smearing your essence on them.
"Taste yourself," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.
You complied, licking his finger clean, savouring the taste of your own desire. It only fuelled your desire for him even more.
"You taste delicious, don’t you," Spencer whispered, his eyes burning with desire.
With his other hand, he slowly pulled your legs apart, spreading them wide open for him. You could feel the heat between your legs growing, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.
As his fingers continued to explore your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you like a tidal wave. You knew that you were completely at his mercy and that he was going to take you to places you never thought possible.
Spencer's hand continued to move between your legs, teasing and taunting you with its every touch. You were more than ready for him, your body trembling with anticipation, and yet he seemed to want to savour this moment.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming quicker and quicker as you felt his fingers slowly enter you again. This time, he didn't stop, pulling out and plunging back in, faster and harder with each thrust.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire. "I want you so bad."
You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you.
"I'm going to make you scream my name," Spencer promised, his voice low and sultry.
As he continued to thrust into you, his fingers moving in and out of you in a rhythm that was both maddening and intoxicating, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second.
“You look so beautiful like this, surrendering yourself to me, letting me make you moan like the slut you really are.” He whispered; his voice filled with lust.
Your body trembled in response, your arousal increasing with every word. You knew that you were completely at his mercy, and you loved every moment of it.
Spencer's fingers continued to move inside you, pulsing rhythmically with his thrusts. You could feel his erection growing harder and thicker against your thigh, and you knew that he was close.
"I want to hear you scream," Spencer hissed.
Just as you were about cum, he pulled a way, a small smirk on his face.
“Did you think I was going to let you cum that easily?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement.
You gasped, your body flush with disappointment but also anticipation. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and it was thrilling.
Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you beg for it," he whispered, “and remember when you are begging for it, you asked for this, you wanted this.”
He slowly put his fingers back in you, but his pace no longer fast, it was slow, and it was deliberate.
"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, your body craving the release that he was denying you.
“Is that all you’ve got baby? And is this all it’s taken me?” he taunted, his lips still brushing against your ear. "You're going to have to do better than that, little one."
His fingers moved in and out of you, teasing your most sensitive spot, and you knew that he was going to make you beg for it. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need to cum.
And just like before he stopped, he wasn’t going to give in even though it was killing him not too. Your eyes were pleading with him, begging him to continue, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“Now if I remember correctly, you brought toys to replace me while I was gone, didn’t you?” he smirked, his eyes locked on yours, “I think it’s time to put them to use.”
Spencer’s eyes were scanning the room, trying to see where you might have put them, he knew it wouldn’t have been in any of the normal places. That’s when his eyes landed on the wardrobe, and he looked back at you.
“I can see that look in your eyes, baby. You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “Now did you hide them in there, princess?”
You nod yes, unable to form any more words as you feel a surge of anticipation and desire.
Spencer walks over to the wardrobe and opens it, revealing a small collection of sex toys that you had purchased while he was away. He grabs a vibrator and a pair of handcuffs, his eyes never leaving yours.
"I knew you couldn't resist," he smirks, his voice filled with victory. "Now, let's see how much you can take, shall we?"
He walks back over to you, the vibrator in his hand, and secures your hands above your head with the handcuffs. You struggle slightly, but the desire coursing through you is too intense to resist.
You watch as Spencer approaches you, his eyes burning with hunger. He runs the tip of the vibrator along your sensitive skin, teasing you mercilessly.
"This is going to feel so good, baby," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. His tone is commanding, and you have no choice but to obey.
He turns on the vibrator and presses it against your clit, and you let out a soft moan. The sensation is intense, and you can feel your body responding to it.
"That's it, baby," Spencer encourages. "You're so wet, so ready for me."
He pushes the vibrator inside you, and you feel it pulsate against your inner walls. "Take it all, you slut."
Your eyes roll back as the sensation overwhelms you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. Spencer smiles slyly, watching as you lose control.
"There's my good girl," he purrs. "You're such a dirty little slut."
He increases the speed of the vibrator, and you arch your back, trying to get closer to the pleasure. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body trembling with each pulse of the vibrator.
"Please," you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't stop."
Spencer grins, his eyes locked on yours. "Not yet baby. I want to see you beg for it."
He pulls the vibrator out of you and turns it off, leaving you desperate for more. You look at him in desperation, your pupils dilated, your breathing ragged.
"Please, Spencer," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "Please, I need it so badly."
He smirks at your desperation, his eyes never leaving yours. "You want it?”
With a sly grin, he takes the vibrator and runs it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You can't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response.
"Beg for it, baby," he commands, his voice a mix of desire and amusement. "Tell me how much you need it."
Your breath hitches in your throat, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second. "I need it so badly, Spencer. Please, I'm begging you."
He chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's my good girl. You know exactly what you want."
And with that, he pressed the vibrator back inside you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. It felt amazing, better than anything you had ever experienced before. He continued to tease you with the vibrator, moving it in and out of you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"Please, Spencer," you pleaded, your voice shaking with need. "Please let me cum. Please make me cum."
He smirked at your desperation; his eyes locked on yours. "You're going to have to beg for it, my dear," he said, his voice low and sultry.
But you didn't care. You needed this. You needed him. And so, you let out a desperate moan, your body trembling with the need to cum. "Please, Spencer," you pleaded, "I need it so badly. Please make me cum.”
You were past the point of no return, Spencer's commands and denial only adding fuel to the fire. Your body was on fire, desperately craving the release he was denying you. You knew you could take it no longer, and yet, you found yourself begging for more.
"Please, Spencer," you moaned, your voice pleading. "Let me cum."
He chuckled, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. "Not yet baby. I want to draw this out," he said, running the vibrator over your clit, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.
"Please, Spencer," you begged, your voice hoarse. "I need it so badly."
He smirked, a devilish look on his face. "But you're forgetting something, you asked for this. You wanted to be treated like a slut, but now you’re begging for me to make you cum?”
You knew you needed to beg for it. You needed to surrender to him, to let him have control over your body, your mind, your very being.
"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, "please make me cum. Please, I can't take it anymore.”
He took the vibrator and ran it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You could feel the pulsating sensation building up inside you, your body arching towards him in response.
"Please, Spencer," you begged. "I need it so badly."
He chuckled; his eyes locked on yours. "You really are a dirty slut, aren't you?"
You nodded, your mind reeling with the intensity of the experience. Spencer did take some pity on you; he could see your eyes were filling with tears and he did love to watch you cum.
"That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice full of desire. "Beg for it, let me hear how much you need it."
You choked out the words, your voice rough with need. "Please, Spencer. Please make me cum. I need it so badly."
He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, aren't you the perfect slut?"
With that, he turned on the vibrator and ran it over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back, your hips bucking against the vibrator.
"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice filled with command. “Cum for me, letting me see what I can do to you.”
And with that, you felt the orgasm building up inside you, closer and closer until you couldn't take it anymore. You let out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling the waves rush through your body as you finally succumbed to the desire that had been building up inside you.
"That's it, baby," Spencer said, his voice filled with triumph. "You're mine, every bit of you, and you'll never forget this moment."
You lay there, panting and sweating, feeling completely spent. Your body was trembling, your mind was still reeling from the sensations you had just experienced. You felt like you had been pushed to the limit and beyond, but you also knew that you had never felt more alive.
As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of submission, a feeling of being completely under Spencer's control. You knew that you had begged for it, and you had enjoyed every moment of it.
Spencer leaned down and kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "That was incredible, baby. You'll always be my dirty little slut."
You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride in the role you had played in this scene. You knew that you had given him exactly what he wanted, and that feeling of power was exhilarating.
“Now I am going to go get some water, because that was intense.” You watched as Spencer got up to go get some water, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for him.
You knew that Spencer was also going to need so aftercare, because that was his first time doing something like this, but you also knew you were going to have to drink before you could do anything.
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Pretty little thing
Pairings: R6! Leon X Fem! Reader
Summary: You always were so curious if old guys actually do it better. Well, Leon's here to prove it to you.
Wc:2.3k
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, implied age gap(not specified), a bit of mean Leon, creampie.
God forgive what he was doing, but it was a far cry from Leon's self-control, you managed to make this old man lose his temper so easily.
"Pretty little fucking thing, you're going to get what you need." Leon purred, his blue eyes penetrating yours, his thumb fondling your clit as you arched under him.
He'd already made you come twice, while he just massaged your clit, nothing more. He didn't finger you, he didn't fuck you, he managed to make you cum twice with minimal effort.
You had asked him if it was true that older guys were better at sex, that they had more experience. You were a bit incredulous in that respect, and he was determined to prove it to you. And he had the time and patience for it.
And if he still had a shred of honesty left, he was eager to get his hands on a girl as beautiful as you. He may be old, but he has everything it takes to drive you crazy with his advances.
"Uhm - can you, please..." You plead, trying to push your hips up to meet his thigh, where you had plans to hump him, just like a bitch in heat.
What a good man, you thought, as he began to rub your clit more fervently, one of his fingers sliding down your wet slit, opening the lips of your pussy. It looked like he was going to finger you, but then he stopped doing that, suddenly stopped.
He abruptly took his fingers away from you, giving you nothing more.
The sensation was enough to make you whimper, and you just looked at him with red cheeks and a pout on your lips. Only to see that he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Cocky son of a bitch.
"My pace, you should learn to respect your elders." He says in a mocking tone, this time he's mounted you, pinning your arms above your head, preventing any movement from you.
"Honestly-" Silly of you to think that he would allow you to say anything, he soon pressed his lips against yours.
His tongue emerged to meet yours, his lips moving in sync with yours, his fingers wickedly tugging at your clit, smiling against your mouth every time you squirmed beneath him.
Dripping wet, your pussy clenching against the wind every time, you could feel your head spinning every time he continued with these non-stop circular movements.
"Open up." He said in an authoritative whisper, biting your lower lip and giving it a gentle pull.
It wasn't long before you felt his hands leave your clit, finding their way to the back of your thighs, holding your legs wide open. You could say it was embarrassing, but you were already so overwhelmed by the sensations of the moment. By now you were holding your legs open the way he wanted.
"Dirty little thing, look at that." Leon purrs, sliding his fingers along the lips of your slit, getting his fingers wet in the process.
The sly whimper that came out of you was the perfect response for him. Without letting you think, he slid one of his fingers into you, sinking the thick digit into your wet pussy.
"I bet none of the boys your age have done that to you, mh?" he says in a naughty tone, curving his fingers around your g-spot and making you see little stars.
"Mhmhm." You nod in a moan mixed with an attempt at speech, so fixated on the way he put his fingers in you, in and out, as if he was so experienced at it.
And he was, for your fortune or misfortune.
You were almost going crazy with the way his lips were attached to your neck, licking and nibbling, his tongue making patterns that made you roll your eyes every time. It was so erotic and so delicious, you tightened around his fingers every time.
He smiled when he noticed you buck your hips against his fingers, pushing his digits faster against you, so fast and deep that all you could do was squirm and moan his name. It felt so good, your wet cunt wrapping around him, you were almost at the point of letting out all your sweet liquids.
"Are you going to cum again, sweetie?" Leon asked in mockery, giving your neck a firm suck, leaving a mark there.
It was all too much, you watching Leon humping the bed in a way to relieve the growing erection in his pants, or the way he fingered you so well while keeping an eye on your reactions. He was doing it like no one else, making you see the sky and the stars with just his hand.
"Oh- Shit-" You whimper, squirming and trying to hold on to his fists to make him stop.
This only added more gasoline to the fire, he began to shove his fingers deeper into you, reaching all your spongy spots, not even letting you breathe properly.
All you felt was your eyes rolling back in your head, all your fluids being expelled from your body as you collapsed under him, your body in a hot mixture of sweat and ecstasy.
You felt as if the world was spinning, your orgasm washing over you as you still tried to situate yourself. Only for you to open your eyes and see the image of Leon, smiling like the cocky bastard he was.
He knew very well that he had you wrapped around his finger at that moment.
"Did you feel good?" He asked in a purr, pressing his teeth against your jaw, then lifting his face and looking at you in a naughty way.
And damn, the look was enough to make you even wetter, if that was possible at all.
You just nodded dumbly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
You could have sworn to God that you'd never felt as excited as you did right now.
"Good, good." He hummed, slapping your clit twice.
For some reason, every time he made any movements with those muscular arms of his, you felt even more aroused. The veins in his arm all showing, the muscles jumping out with every movement he made. How could you not act like that?
"Keep them open." Leon says, his hands leaving you and heading for his belt.
If there was one thing he was, it was cunning, because it didn't take him more than a few seconds to undo his belt, his pants hanging open while you could already see his cock begging to come out of the confining fabric.
Soon you found yourself salivating, drooling at the wet spot that was forming in his pants. He might even have had all the control in the world, but he couldn't fool his body, surely he was as turned on as you were.
You then sat down on the bed, putting your hands on his muscular thighs and letting yourself run your lips along the underside of his stomach, dragging your tongue across his hard muscles, and he grunted and moaned in response.
The next thing you felt was his hand on the back of your head, urging you on. You quickly pulled down his pants, your eyes going wide when you saw his cock throbbing inside his underwear.
"Don't tell me your little eyes are shining like that because of me?" He says, pulling your hair to make you look up and see him smiling at you in a dirty way.
It was the final push for you to pull down his underpants, making his cock jump out, touching your cheek lightly. His pre-cum sticking to your skin, his tip dripping as his cock throbbed and ached, waiting for any touch from you.
When you took the tip and guided it into your mouth, he stopped you before you could do anything, your hand still wrapped around his member as he held your chin tightly.
"That's not why you called me here, is it?" he purred, pushing you back onto the bed, making you lie on your back.
You could feel the palpitation forming in your body, your sly eyes meeting his as he looked at you with a hungry gaze, his cock throbbing, leaking even more.
"I'll show you exactly what you want to know, sweetheart." Without warning he pushed his lips against yours, pulling you into a sloppy, hot kiss.
You soon felt him grasp the back of your thighs, putting you in a mating press, your legs so open that he could see whatever he wanted to.
His tip bumped against your clit, and he began to slowly grind against your twitching limb, which left you moaning into his mouth, moving your hips in sync with his.
His grunts mingled with your moans, his breathing mingled with yours, and you soon felt him humping you like a dog in heat.
"I'll show you why experience matters."
And he slid into you, his thick cock making you stretch in such a good way, your toes curling at the sensation. You were fucking wet, warm, jelly-like walls that accommodated him so well.
"Fucking tight. I can barely fit." Leon said as he thrust into you, deeper and deeper, to the point where you wondered if his cock had gone all the way in.
Seeing your sly expression, he smiled, moving his lips down to your neck, grabbing your sensitive skin and placing it between his teeth. Making you shiver with a certain discomfort, only for him to lick and soothe the area.
"Can't you loosen up, mh? So tight you can't stretch any further?" He purrs, thrusting slowly and methodically into you.
"That's it.... It's too much-" You whimper, putting your hands on his chest in an attempt to make him take the slightest pity on you.
All he did was sneer, giving you a very sharp smack of his hips, hitting your sweet spots in such a delicious way.
"Don't tell me you're trying to tap out? Mh, I'm sure you can handle it." He whispered to you, biting your earlobe as he fucked you quietly, sensually, rolling his hips to slide into you.
You felt your pussy stretching more and more to accommodate him, and yet you felt your walls clenching around him so hard. His tip was buried so deep in you that you didn't even know it was possible.
Your toes curling as he rammed into you, the wet noises along with the moans you both let out was the only thing that reached your ears now.
"I bet little boys your age can't do that, huh?" he says with a matching smile, pulling his cock out of you, only to shove it in all at once.
At that moment a strangled whimper came from your throat, as you closed your eyes tightly, finding the sensation too much for you to bear.
So close, you were so close to the edge that you couldn't hold on for long, all you did was stare at him with your sly little eyes, looking at his expression. His hair stuck to his forehead, his lips parted as he fucked you, his sweat dripping and mixing with yours, his muscles contracting with his every move.
When Leon became aware of the murmurs you were trying to say, the way you were drooling as he fucked you dumb, he controlled himself with everything he had not to cum here and now.
"Tight little pussy never been fucked like this, mh?" he taunts once more, pulling you into a languid, heated kiss, his hands squeezing the back of your thigh once more, but this time he pushes your legs against your chest, giving him the perfect intention to do what he was already doing.
His hips pounding brutally against you, his heavy balls slapping against you to the point of leaving a red mark on you, your fluids dripping down your body and onto the sheets.
His free hand went to your clit, massaging you slowly, adding even more to your pleasure.
When he detached his lips from yours, he even opened his lips to speak, but preferred to watch the erotic image in front of him. You with your lips parted, your eyes rolling back as you came, so drunk on his cock that you didn't even let him know you were close.
"That old cock still does the job, doesn't it?" Leon says with that damn smug grin, looking down to watch the scene.
White cream oozing out of you, your little hole still wrapped around him as he slowly grinded against you.
"Fucking good." You say under your breath, looking at him with glassy eyes.
For once you were recovering, but he jerked his hips forward, giving you another deep thrust, and then another and another. To the point where he was fucking you in a frenzied way, simply leaving you in a mess, a whimpering mess.
"I'll show you what's really good." He growls in your ear, biting your lobe as he plunges into you.
Even with your mind in shambles, you felt his hot spurt inside you, his cum flooding out of you. You'd never done it before, but it was so good, so raw. He finished while moaning some loud swear word, which you didn't understand because you were too focused on the moment.
You couldn't even think straight, and neither could he, so he just lay on top of you and waited for you both to come down from the heights. At this point, you could barely keep your eyes open, the sensation was too much for you.
Surely, this old man has made you feel like you're in paradise, and if you still don't believe him, he has all night to prove it to you.
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon x reader#leon x y/n#leon x you#leon resident evil#leon scott kennedy x reader#re leon#resident evil leon#leon scott kennedy x you#leon s kennedy smut#leon smut#resident evil 6 leon#resident evil x reader
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Brat taming. Scaramouche x fem! reader Smut. Degradation. Fingering. Cunilligus. Orgasm denial. Dom!Scara. He is kinda really mean in this, but soft as well. Some manhandling. Pet name.
An ode to the tired cause I am. Thank you for being patient with me. As always, thank you all for the support❤️
Scaramouche could tell you were tired. You weren't sleeping at night. And if you did, you only dozed off for a minimum of an hour or two at most. Usually, he was the one awake at night, with you conked out in his arms.
He was worried.
Really worried.
You felt a hand stroke down your hair, hearing a scoff. "You should be asleep," He said, looking down at you. You felt so warm against him, he always insisted you sleep naked with him.
"I am trying, Scara," You replied, huffing a little.
Now, he knew he could be a brat. A hellion. But you had a mouth on you to. You weren't afraid to mouth off to him, and that both pissed him off and really aroused him.
It is one of many reasons why he is in love with you.
"Sleep," He said, tipping your head up to look at him.
You blinked twice. "No," You said flatly.
Never did he think one word could make his cock throb so much.
Scaramouche rolled you over onto your back. "Hmm? What did you say?" He glared down at you.
You set your jaw stubbornly, replying without hesitation, "No, I won't sleep," There was such a defiant look in your eyes. Sure, you were tired, but it was the principle of the thing now. It is pretty much a reflex for you to stand up to him like this. As odd a time as it was to do so.
"What a mouth you have on you, slut," You were going to be in for a long night. Scaramouche knew what he had to do, and thought exhilarated him. He was going to put you in your place, and fuck you exhausted.
Your defiance is always a turn on for him.
Scaramouche wasted no time working his tongue sloppily over your cunt. His tongue dipping inside of you, swirling around your now throbbing clit. You were close to cumming. You always whimpered, and twitched a certain way.
"Are you cumming, whore?" He asked, latching his lips around your clit, sucking firmly as you let out your signature whimper, pressing his face onto your cunt. He smirked. "That's too bad," This wasn't the only orgasm he was planning to ruin.
The more he ruined, the harder you would cum.
Scaramouche shushed you, holding one of your thighs open. Before you could whimper in protest, he plunged two fingers inside of you, making you gasp in pleasure. Your hips bucked up into his fingers, gripping the sheets when his fingers nudged against your sweet spot.
Having been denied your first orgasm, your walls clamped sensitive around his fingers. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, scissoring your walls apart. He hooked his fingers against your sweet spot consistently.
"Don't you dare cum without my permission," He hissed, slamming his fingers inside you. Your thighs trembled and burned, your orgasm building in your stomach again.
You couldn't help it. You suddenly squirted on his fingers, panting and writhing as you let out a high pitched moan of pleasure.
"Tch," Scaramouche pulled his fingers out of you, licking them before he grabbed a handful of your hair. "What a filthy whore, cumming without her Master's permission," He hauled you off the bed by your hair, making you yelp.
He shoved you down onto your knees, pushing his cock against your lips. "Open up and suck, slut. Beg for forgiveness on your knees," Keeping a tight grip on your hair, he brought your face closer to his cock.
Your tongue curled out to lick the head of his aching cock. "I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me, please," You licked up and down his cock, sucking lovingly on the tip.
Scaramouche groaned, pushing your mouth down onto his cock. Your throat spasmed as you choked, enjoying seeing the tears well into your eyes. "Keep talking, slut," He took your mouth off of his cock, glaring down at you.
"Please, Master. Please forgive me for cumming without permission," You pleaded, looking up at him as you sucked on the head of his cock again, "I promise I won't do it again."
Holding your head in place, Scaramouche thrust his cock back into your mouth. He seemed entirely uncaring, hitting the back of your throat. His pace turned harsher, using your mouth as he pleased until cum spilled into your throat.
"Swallow, fucking slut," He groaned, holding your mouth on his cock as you swallowed.
The way he tossed you back down onto the bed was almost gentle. Pining you down on the bed by your shoulders, he grinded the head of his still hard cock against your clit, making you squirm underneath him.
"Beg for it," He commanded, leaning down to kiss you. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, curling his tongue around yours. Sucking on your tongue, you moaned into his mouth. He bit your lips as he pulled away.
You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as you desperately sought more friction from his cock. "Please fuck me, Scara! Fuck me senseless!" You pleaded, grinding needily against his cock.
Growling, he abruptly thrust his cock inside of you, bottoming out with one snap of his hips. Your fingernails dug into his skin, your body seizing up in pleasure as he started thrusting.
His harsh, quick pace took your breath away. You could only choke out sobs and moans, pleasure curling tight through you. His cock squelched in and out of your weeping hole.
"Are you gonna cum?" Scaramouche asked, groaning huskily from the way his cock throbbed everytime your walls clamped around his cock. You nodded, letting out that whimper he always adored hearing as you nodded.
"Don't you fucking dare," He swiftly pulled his cock out of you, smirking when you cried out, your face crumbling being denied your release.
"Ugh, please Scara! Please can I cum now?! I'll be a good girl, I promise!" Your body shook with need for him, your clit throbbing. Your walls were clamping around nothing, begging for his cock to be back inside of you.
Roughly grasping your chin, Scaramouche kissed you again. His mouth swallowed your moan when he suddenly thrust back inside of you. You mewled in pleasure, clinging to him as he slammed his cock inside of you.
You felt every throb of his cock, his cum painting your walls white. The feeling of his warm cum filling you full made you squirt on his cock. He sloppily fucked you through your high, his lips never once leaving yours.
Before he pulled out of you, he renewed the biting bruise he always liked to leave next your throat.
"Good girl," Scaramouche cooed, rolling off of you. He nuzzled into your neck. He felt you return the action with a soft sigh.
Then you were quiet. "Kitten? Kitten?" You didn't answer him. You'd promptly crashed, exhausted. Scaramouche kissed you on the forehead, smiling softly down at you. He pulled you against his chest.
You were finally asleep.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x reader
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Godly Desires - Part 2 -
So yeah here's the second part. A little rough but the next few should get more interesting.
I. II. III. IV.
As usual this story will contain yandere themes and religious themes so please proceed with caution.
"For you"
-
An apple? You blinked twice, confused. You hesitantly reached up towards the mitachurl's hand and took the apple in both of yours. After gazing at it for a while, as if looking for permission - you took a bite of the apple. It was delicious. It tasted so real it almost entirely discarded your belief that this was a dream.
You sat in the hilichurl camp there for a while, as they kept gifting you with seemingly random food and materials, but they seemed overjoyed with it regardless. It was an odd feeling. Despite the fact that they were known as dangerous monsters, they showed such kindness to you. You were almost compelled to just live among them for as long as they'd allow you to stay - but you knew you had to keep going.
You had to continue down the path, to find out how exactly you got here, and why. So, after a long time of playing with the hilichurls, you said your goodbyes, and they said goodbye too - or at least you think they were saying goodbye. You weren't exactly the most knowledgable on hilichurlian.
You walked down along the beach, trying to figure out where in Teyvat you could be. It didn't take very long for you to notice the tip of a very recognizable cathedral. So you were in Mondstadt. That made sense, you supposed. It was where the traveler first woke up, so it would make sense that you would appear here too - except you were on the opposite side of Monstadt.
It would take a while for you to reach Mondstadt just by walking, and you weren't even sure what you should do when you got there, but you might as well start now. You turned back towards the hills and kept walking, resting by trees when it got too dark, or hanging out in more hilichurl camps - where they always seemed to welcome your presence.
It was safe to say that you did not go hungry. Though, you could really use a change of clothes. They were starting to feel all gross. You luckily were by a lake, and well - you might as well take this opportunity to bathe and wash those clothes.
You were a little worried about being spotted, but figured you were in a quiet enough area that it was unlikely. Or if it were monsters, you had little fear of being attacked by them. So you carefully stripped down and submerged yourself in the lake, trying to adjust to the cold temperature of the water.
When you were finished washing yourself - you reached back up to the rocks to grab your clothes to wash them as well, only to find that they were gone. Wait...gone??? Panic began to set in as you realized that you were currently naked and stuck in some lake in the middle of nowhere. What were you going to do...?
You stared at the water for a while, tucking yourself as closely to the edge of the water as possible, as you just thought mindlessly over what you were going to do next. That is, until you heard a voice.
"Excuse me, by any chance do these clothes belong to you?" A voice called out, and you instinctively hid yourself lower into the water. "My bad, I don't mean to invade your privacy. I'll just leave these here." The man said, before you listened to his footsteps get more distant. You slowly lifted your head up to look, only to find the man in the distance standing behind a tree, facing the other way, waiting for you.
You looked back to the ground and found your clothes returned, though in a slightly worse condition, but regardless, you hastily threw it all on no matter how wet they were going to get. Once you were done, you ran over to the man in the distance, who slowly turned his head.
"An animal must have stolen them," he began, "I was out for a walk and saw them on the ground by the grape vines. The animal must've left them there after it realized there was no food in them." He smiled.
You were sure you knew who the man was, but that suspicion was only confirmed when you glanced down, and saw the pyro vision hanging from his belt. "...Diluc?"
"Ah right, yes I'm Diluc Ragvindr, at your service." He seemed a little surprised that you knew his name, but internally, his mind was on fire. You, of all people, knew his name. He could barely contain his joy, although it was nearly impossible to tell from the outside.
"Oh. Nice to meet you. Thank you for helping me there." You said, a little taken aback. at your service? what did he mean by that? Regardless, you felt like you might as well thank him for helping you.
"Please do not mind it, I am only doing what should be done." He said, only showing as slight smile. "If you would like to thank me properly, how about I invite you for a drink?" He asked. He hoped you'd say yes.
"Oh sure. Lead the way then." You failed to notice just how exuberant he actually was that you agreed. It has been a while since you've last talked to - or even seen - someone, so you were a little bit lonely. You also figured that you could get some helpful information from him, so you might as well take this opportunity.
-
soon we're actually gonna get into the more entertaining parts but that's it for now. The next part is gonna have a lot more Diluc which is nice but also terrifies me I'm so not prepared to write him.
Taglist
@mmeatt; @iamapotatoe; @clavichordcleffa
#sagau cult au#genshin impact sagau#genshin sagau#sagau x reader#genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin#diluc x reader#yandere diluc x reader#cw yandere
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Latibule Spinoff: Elysian II
Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: heheheheheee
Masterlist, Part II of __
Kim Seokjin blinked owlishly as you run past him in a hurry with your white coat hanging on your arm and the sound of your heels hitting the floor before completely skidding to a stop. It was already late in the evening and you still had energy to run in the hospital lobby. Seokjin was starting to wonder what you were fed as a child to be this vibrant. Additionally, though, he was now starting to think what he fed Jungkook as a child for him to be as energetic as you.
“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I run again?” you asked with a teasing smile on your face, your breaths huffing. You saw the most handsome man walked confidently across the lobby, his hand clutching his briefcase and you knew he was done for the day. That was the moment you ran from the second floor to the ground floor just to annoy your crush. You were too busy today with your patients and papers that you had no time to go to his office and bat your eyelashes at him.
It was entertaining to watch his cheeks and ears reddened whenever he saw you doing that, or whenever you verbally appreciated his beauty. You thought he was embarrassed for you and you found it immensely charming. In fact, flirting with him was the highlight of your day and you always made sure to see him on a daily basis which you noted was difficult.
Sometimes, Kim Seokjin was nowhere to be found for days. You wondered where he went whenever he disappeared. On days after he was gone, he seemed to be more tolerant of your teasing quips. On days after he returned, you could have sworn he looked at you a little bit fondly for a second and then it was gone.
“This is not the first time I saw you, Doctor Y/N,” he replied calmly, his hand in his pocket as he rested his eyes on yours.
“Yes, but I’m running out of pickup lines to use. I still need conduct further research,” you tilted your head to the side as you looked up at the tall man. “When are you even going to ask me out, Doctor Kim?”
“W-what?”
“I mean, you better hurry up or else someone might snatch me up. My mother did say that I’m the most beautiful girl in the world and I am known for being a good girl and believing every word my mother said.”
His brows furrowed at the thought of someone snatching you away from his grasp. But, you weren’t his, right? He had no hold over you, right? So why did that leave a sour taste on his mouth? Why then did he fist his hands so tight he almost felt pain knowing that he had long couldn’t?
You had no idea of the darkness that was clouding his mind and instead, you smiled sweetly at him before waving him goodbye, satisfied that you once again managed to render the smartest man in this hospital speechless and blushing profusely. That was an achievement, you giggled.
But then you turned to look at him again, your hand touching your lips and then dramatically pointing it to him. That was all it took to get him out of the darkness that was caging him once again. The mafia prince didn’t know what to make of the power you had over his darkness, a darkness that he spent a good decade reigning in.
You tapped your knuckles against his office door twice before opening the door. Kim Seokjin was the image of focus as he stared intensely at his laptop, his brows slightly furrowed with his glasses resting on his aristocrat nose. He looked up when he heard the sound of several tupperwares hitting his table.
“Eomeoni said that she courted appa by cooking and bringing him meals everyday in his office,” you started conversationally as you opened the lids. Seokjin was helpless as soon as the aromatic smell reached him that his own stomach decided to betray him and communicate how empty it was.
He coughed to cover his embarrassment, “Your mother courted your father?”
“Yes. Her method was effective, though,” you grinned at him as you placed the chopsticks in front of him. You sat in front of him before starting to eat. “She also did say to follow my dreams, so here I am.”
You met his eyes before winking at him. Seokjin’s face radiated with a warm, pinkish blush which happened to be a true testament to his extremely flustered state that only you could bring out of him. And you staring at him like that was not helping him at all.
His hands shook as his mind went to the default setting: to push you away.
“I have patients coming in…”
You blinked owlishly at him before looking down at your wristwatch. “It’s 5:47 am. Check-ups starts at 7:00 am. We have time.”
“I-I don’t eat.”
The silence was loud as you processed what he just said, and you knew what an ‘I don’t want to spend time with you’ looked like. You nodded your head before standing up. “Okay.”
You stopped yourself from showing your disappointment. You brought your chopsticks down before wordlessly closing the lids on the meals your prepared at an ungodly hour. You returned them all in the paper bag before bowing at him and leaving. He watched it all as you refused to meet his eyes for the first time since you met him.
He groaned when you closed the door, and he was once again left with the silence he was used to. He rested his head on his hands in frustration. What was wrong with him, he thought. He didn’t eat? What was he, a fucking vampire? Yes, he had a clear and fair skin, and yes, he looked like he was not aging. And of course, his beauty was out of this world. But he was just beautiful! What could he do? Should he blame his mother that used to be a top model for his good genes?
Or should he blame his already system that was already beyond repair even before you came into his life?
Kim Seokjin eyes kept on shifting to the door and then back to his screen for a moment. However, it was as though he was powerless from looking back to the door again. The presentation that they deemed to be important was merely a white noise to him, even as the doctors kept on looking at him for approval. They found none as his face remained impassive.
He looked down on his phone, and even your usual good morning was not there and he loathed it. Granted that he never replied, but he still kept the messages. It brought him something akin to warmth in his chest when he received your messages on his phone. Reading your adorable messages was the highlight of his morning. But now, his phone was unusually quiet and you were nowhere to be found. It displaced him. It vexed him. And it confused him. Seokjin glared at the emptiness of your chair with such disgust and irritation that the presenter gulped from the darkness that crossed his face. They all wanted to please him, not only was he in the highest position but he was also the major stockholder of the hospital.
Suffice to say, Kim Seokjin was the most powerful man in the hospital. Unbeknownst to them though, his power spread beyond the corners of the hospital and into the darkness of the world.
“Director Kim?” the presenter he didn’t care to remember the name called for his attention. Leisurely, he brought his eyes from his phone to the sweating man. He didn’t even care to hide the fact that he was more focused on the phone than the presentation. He read all about it and he was not pleased one bit.
“I believe you graduated at the top of your class, Doctor Choi, am I correct?” he regarded him with an unimpressed look. He waved his hand before the man could even respond. He didn’t need his affirmation. “Did your school have an extremely low population? Did they have-“ he tilted his head to come up with a better word than what he was thinking. “-subpar qualifications? Was bribery involved?”
He met each and everyone’s eyes before standing up slowly in heavy disappointment. “Fix this. Or I’ll personally call all the organizations that awarded this hospital as the best and tell them that they made a terribly, colossal blunder and have them take all the certifications away.”
—-
“Hyuuuuung, why are you even doing here?” Jungkook, their youngest brother, whined as he watched his oldest hyung laid out on his office sofa. He had his phone up, glaring at it as though it personally did him wrong.
“Hanging out with you,” he murmured before throwing his phone away. He pulled his arm on his face and started groaning.
Jungkook wanted to smash his head against his table littered with thousands of documents he needed to go into- which he couldn’t do because his hyung just wouldn’t leave him in peace!
“You’re distracting me!”
“Tough luck. I need to be around someone who’s as lonely as I am.”
“Then go to the others! Why me?! Why not Namjoon hyung?!”
“He’s not lonely. He has his secretary,” Jin softly explained before putting down his arm and turning to look at Jungkook. “Besides, no one is as lonelier as you. Your wife is out there running from you.”
“No, she’s not! She’s just lost! What about Taehyung? Go to him!” he huffed as he was reminded yet again that his wife left him. His brows were now in a pinched as he pouted at his hyung.
Jin waved his suggestion away before closing his eyes. “Tae Tae does not feel any emotion, Kookie. He doesn’t even know he’s lonely because he is a high-functioning pain in the ass psychopath that needs to be put down as soon as pos-“
His slander on Taehyung was cut short as the sound of his phone alerting him of a message from the floor chimed. Jungkook watched his hyung scrambled on the floor to where he threw his phone both in confusion and disgust. He never saw his hyung behaved this way when he was the one who always insisted in proprietary and manners because they as he said, they might be cold-blooded criminals but they were not barbarians.
You were back, he read as the personnel from the Human Resources department he bribed messaged him. Apparently, you were on a week-long leave that required him suffering because you weren’t in his vicinity. Yet again, he had no time to dissect his feelings…
He just needed to see you.
It felt like everything was displaced when you were gone, yet at the same time it was how he was living before you came into his life and painted his world with colors he didn’t know existed. That was the thing, you came and changed his world. He didn’t know how to go back to his colorless world now.
“Okay, bye.”
Jungkook watched dumbfoundedly as his hyung ran out of his office.
Part III
#bts fic#yandere bts#bts yandere#kim seokjin fic#mafia bts#kim seokjin yandere#yandere kim seokjin#kim seokjin x y/n#kim seokjin x reader#kim seokjin x you#kim seokjin fanfic#seokjin x reader#seokjin fic
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sneaking out of heaven
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
part one, part two
cw: 18+ content, religious guilt, sexually repressed reader, allusions to abusive parents
a/n: i'm soooo nervous about this one lmao... will be smut eventually, but part of is kinda just... setting things up, yay!! not really sure how to tag this part either, so sorry if i missed anything :// title from the waterparks song of the same name <3
word count: 1.3k words
Growing up in the church offered you the only sliver of normalcy in your childhood. Your father, the pastor, was a strict man. He'd always made his expectations of you clear, and you were not one to go against his teachings. After all, his words were the extension of the words of God, as he had made abundantly clear.
You'd never been to a public school, and living in such a small town meant you were not subjected to things that most young girls were. Your father favoured it. This way, he could ensure his daughter stayed free of temptation. That she would be safe under his watchful eye, and never stray from the teachings of God.
Still, in the Church, you felt at home. In God's eyes, all men were created equal. You felt like you had some semblance of free will, less trapped under your father's thumb. As long as you devoted your life to God, you would be safe. He would provide for you, and you'd be able to leave this town.
This did not mean you did not miss the things that most teenagers got to experience. Fiddling around with the computer your dad allowed you for home-schooling purposes and finding incognito mode was something that instantly fed into your curiosity. Your dad couldn't monitor what you were doing, and it made you feel more comfortable to explore.
You never ventured too far, of course. It was as though you felt God Himself would strike you down if you looked at something you shouldn't. No, all you did was watch teen dramas with your volume muted late at night when you knew your father was asleep. You read the subtitles as you watched, fascinated by the idea of partying and going out. Having fun. Being free.
You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to speak with someone your own age. This town was filled with old folks, and those who had kids all seemed to decide to have them a good ten or so years before or after you were born, so you were left being the only teenager there.
As you got older, the need to spread your wings and leave the nest only grew. Your father got stricter, roped you into more church duties. Anything to keep your curious mind wandering too much.
That was until the Kennedys moved into town.
Along with them came a boy, only a few years older than you. You could feel the tension in your father's body as you stood next to him while greeting them after they attended their first Sunday Mass there.
Their son, Leon, stood behind them looking incredibly uninterested. It was as if your father could sense what the boy would do to your mind, how he'd plague your thoughts late and night when you were all alone. You shook his hand that day, and that contact alone was enough to cause your downfall.
As you lay in bed that night, you felt the devil claw his way into the corner of your mind. He made his home there, filling you with thoughts that left you weak to temptation. As wetness pooled in the gusset of your panties remembering how Leon's hand felt in yours, you sobbed.
You prayed for God's forgiveness when the thoughts subsided. Apologised profusely for even thinking about touching yourself. The next morning, your shower took twice as long. You pretended it was the heat of the summer, but you knew it was your attempt at washing the dirty thoughts from your mind.
Every Sunday, Leon was begrudgingly dragged to church by his parents. And every Sunday, you fall further and further into sin. Until one day, you can't find Leon as you gaze into the pews.
It bothers you more than it should. You should be relieved. If he had convinced his parents to allow him to avoid church, you'd be rid of your temptation. God had heard your prayers, and he had offered you a solution.
You were not so lucky.
As you leave the church, Leon is propped outside against one of the walls. He's smoking, his lips the picture of sin as they wrap around the cigarette while he takes a drag.
His gaze flicks to you, and he tosses it to the floor, stopping it out with the toe of his boot. He grabs your arm, dragging you to the side of your church despite your protests.
“I've seen you watching me.” He says bluntly, but your brain can only focus on the sound of his voice and the way his hand feels as it lingers on your arm. You blink a few times, taking longer than usual to register his words.
“I-I haven't…”
“You have been, though.” He says harshly, brows furrowing like he's ready for a fight. “Think you're better than me? I can feel you judging me, y'know. I didn't want to come to this shitty town. I know I'm not like you.”
Your expression twists into one of confusion. Judging him? If anything, you were the one that deserved to be judged. You shake your head quickly, your heart beating so hard it felt like it would come out of your chest.
“I wasn't… I was just… just curious, that's all.”
He narrows his eyes like he's trying to see if you're lying. After a moment of studying you, he seems pleased enough with your answer and releases your arm.
“Cool. Your dad just really laid it on to my parents. They won't get off my back. Thought he sent you to keep an eye on me or something.” He says with a shrug, his gaze trailing over you.
“I'm not my father.” The words come out more sharp than you intended, and you're instantly scolding yourself mentally for speaking in that way. You take in a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting his gaze once more.
“I was wondering if we could be friends?” You ask softly, your voice shaking with slight nerves. Your father would probably crucify you if he knew you were alone with a boy, and here you were trying to bargain more time with him.
“It's just… well, I've never been able to hang around someone my age before, and-”
“Never?” He interrupts, brows furrowing as he looks at you. A small frown tugs at his lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss it away.
You shake your head softly, embarrassment burning in your chest.
“Shit. Does your old man keep you locked up in the church basement or something?” He asks with a laugh that only grows louder when he sees how affronted you are by him cursing.
He's joking, but it's not so far from the truth. You've been tethered to this town since the day you were born, kept on a leash so tight you could feel your airwaves being restricted more and more with every tug made by your father.
“It's just… I've never left this town.” You say quietly, and just like that, Leon's expression softens.
“You don't seem so happy about that.” He replies. The look on your face confirms his suspicions, but you don't say anything in response.
“Hey, well… I'll tell you everything you want to know.” He says with a smile that makes you weak in the knees.
If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.
You brush the thoughts away quickly. Leon was a human, plain and simple. It didn't matter what he looked like. All men were created equal, you remind yourself. There was nothing wrong with talking to him.
“So we're friends?” You ask hopefully, extending a hand in hopes of making contact with his calloused palms once more.
“Yeah. Friends.”
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My first choice (part 1/2)
summary: Aemond thinks you are way too good to be Aegon’s best friend. But you are enough for the one-eye prince to fall in love with.
pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader
words: ~ 5500
warnings: friends to lovers, slow burn (with very obvious mutual pining), angst, Aegon is a sad boy (but ends up being a pretty good wingman!)
author's note: this is inspired by “Little women” and Amy March in particular. I took the liberty to rewrite some plot lines because to me Aemond is nothing like Laurie (Aegon is ;) and I hate love triangles so we are not having any of that sorry. it's a bit of a roller coaster so I divided it into 2 parts in hopes that it will be easier to read: the first part explains Aemond's feelings, the second one is about hers.
✨ part 2
part 1. How could you be so blind
Aegon knows he's supposed to be relieved — he never wanted the crown and now that Rhaenyra is the Queen and a feast is arranged in her honor, he should be celebrating. And he may have been hitting the wine way too hard for the past couple of hours, but he can’t pretend to be happy, and he gave up trying to force a smile. It’s ridiculous that he is upset over this, and yet he can’t help but feel horribly useless. The prince drinks one cup after another until the room starts spinning and he can’t even sit straight — and then he suddenly finds himself propped against the wall, sliding under the table instead of sitting at it. Aegon catches a few judgemental glances but at this point, he couldn’t care less. There is only one person whose judgment he is afraid of — and it’s not long before he’s greeted with a displeased remark:
“When I asked you not to swoop too low, I couldn’t imagine you would literally lay on the floor.”
He looks up — and here you are, staring down at him, not even trying to cover up your disappointment. At any other time, Aegon would’ve at least tried to sober up, but today he’s disappointed in himself, too, so he doesn’t make an effort. Instead, he reaches out an arm to you with a lax smile:
“Would you like to join me?”
“I didn’t get the invitation to this pity party so I will pass,” your tone suggests you are not in the mood for jesting. “Now that you’ve succeeded in making a fool out of yourself, would you mind getting upright?”
“I think I like it here,” he retorts, shamelessly staring at the legs of the maids passing by.
“You like wallowing in misery for all to see?” you huff. “Aegon, get up.”
He fakes a whine:
“My legs gave out, I’m afraid!”
“You would need to drink all the wine in the castle for that to happen, and I doubt you managed to do that,” you roll your eyes, taking a step toward him — but pause upon hearing a voice behind your back:
“You underestimate my brother.”
Aemond has a habit of sneaking up on people which often startles you yet right now you are too angry at Aegon to be bothered. You throw Aemond a glare over your shoulder but your eyes soften when you see the apologetic look on his face. It’s not the first time that the two of you find yourself in this situation — throughout the years you learned to work as a team: you bring Aegon back to his senses while Aemond helps to physically bring him to the nearest flat surface. You have never asked him for help — and yet he’s always there.
Aemond is about to lean down to help his brother up — you stop the one-eye prince with your hand, your palm inches away from his chest. Anyone else would’ve thought twice before standing in his way but you don’t hesitate.
“He is perfectly capable to get up on his own,” you reject Aemond’s attempt, your eyes fixed on Aegon. “He can hold onto the wall shall he feel unable to stay on his two feet.”
There is something in your gaze that makes Aegon uncomfortable, piercing him to the bone. You are never downright mean or rude but with just a few words you can easily unmask his feigned recklessness. The prince stands up, tottering and feeling a little light-headed.
“Are you happy, now when I'm in the standing position?”
“If you cared about anyone else's feelings but your own, you wouldn't be in this position,” you scold him while Aemond takes his brother under the arm to guide him out. Aegon tries to grab another cup of wine but you slap his hand.
“Do you ever get ashamed of yourself?” you hiss at him.
“Let me think... No, why would I?” he sounds sarcastic.
“You should be,” you whisper scream at him. “You can find nothing to do but dawdle and make a mockery of yourself!”
Aemond feels his brother shuddering at your words, and he tightens his hold on Aegon.
“Well, what else am I to do,” his voice is bitter. “Since I am not an heir and serve no purpose to the realm nor do I have any taste for duty.”
You slow your pace, and a sigh leaves your mouth.
“I feel sorry for you, Aegon, I do. I only wish you'd bear it better,” you reach out to stroke his arm but the prince bristles.
“You don't have to feel sorry for me. Your duty is to marry, and we will see how that goes,” he mutters before he can stop himself — and regrets it the very next second when you swiftly turn to him.
“At least I would be respected if I couldn't be loved,” your tone hushed but sharp.
Aegon stops dead in his tracks, his wide eyes meeting yours. You moved away from the crowd into the hall, and it becomes silent. And then his lower lip quivers.
“But I thought that you loved me,” Aegon whimpers, his assumed nonchalance instantly gone.
“Oh, Aegon, how much did you have to drink?” you come to his side, lending him a shoulder to cry on. While he’s aggressively sniffling, you look at Aemond and quietly mouth “How many cups?”
“Way more than usual,” he gives you a wan smile, and you groan at his answer, taking Aegon by the arm.
“Alright, you can lean on me. But don’t get handsy or I will push you down the stairs,” your remark earns a weak laugh from the older prince, and the three of you head toward his chambers.
Aegon doesn’t talk much but his mood softens and you exchange a few jokes before finally reaching his room.
“I can take it from here,” Aemond suggests but his brother eagerly protests.
“No, I want to be tucked into bed! And definitely not by you,” he sticks out his tongue, and you chuckle at his whim.
“Aemond, I can handle him.”
The one-eyed prince shoots you a knowing glance and holds the door open for you and Aegon to walk in. You slowly move to his bed, making sure he doesn’t stumble on his way — and then, with a sudden boost of energy, the prince flops down on the fluffy blankets, letting out a satisfied moan. You hold back a giggle and wait for him to crawl under the covers.
“Should I call for the maid to help you undress?”
“No, I am way too comfortable like this,” he pulls the blanket up to his chin, and you sit on the edge of the bed.
“I am sorry for the way I behaved,” he reveals, frowning. “I did not mean to, truly.”
“Aegon, you know I’m not the one you should apologize to,” you take his hand in yours, and he squeezes it with childish eagerness. “You left Helaena all alone. And you promised me you would make an effort.”
“I know, I know,” he yawns. “I was doing better until today, I swear, you should ask her,” his speech becomes incoherent as he is already too drowsy to talk, his cheeks flushed from the wine and the heat of the blankets. As you stand up to leave, Aegon mumbles:
“I fetched you a book... the one you were looking for,” he sloppily points to his table by the window before dozing off.
There is only one book so it’s easy to find — and when you do, you can barely contain a sound of surprise: it's the complete history of Westeros, heavy and hardcover, decorated with gilding. You glance at Aegon but he looks fast asleep so you cautiously get out of his chambers.
If you were to turn around, you would’ve noticed that he kept an eye on you with a grin on his face.
When you walk out, you see Aemond still standing there, his gaze landing on the book and then immediately on you. It takes you a minute to figure it out and then you smile at him:
“Even though I appreciate the gesture, it is hard to imagine Aegon in the library.”
“He asked me to help him find the book you wanted. I did,” the prince explains as if it isn’t that big of a deal. But to you, it is — although you think he only did it out of politeness.
“Thank you, Aemond,” you enthusiastically turn your attention to the book, flipping through the pages in awe. He watches you, feeling the warmth in his chest at the sight of your joy.
“You know that you bring out the best in him?” Aemond says in a low voice, and your heart skips a beat at his comment. You are thankful for the dim lighting that makes your heated cheeks less obvious.
“You overestimate my influence,” you say, then dither before admitting, “I’m afraid I was too hard on him today.”
“Someone has to do it,” Aemond objects, and there’s something in his tone — sincere and soft, that makes you look at him again. At this moment, away from the prying eyes and the pressure of everyone’s expectations, you can see the side of him that people rarely get acquainted with.
“I think you are doing a pretty good job, too,” you tell the prince, finding his presence ever so calming. You could never understand why would anyone call Aemond intimidating when he’s been nothing but kind to you ever since you two met. Whenever you have a chance to be alone with him, his company always brings you comfort, and that feeling is so rare, you want to chase it.
But then you remind yourself of the harsh reality, and your smile falters.
“I’m sorry you had to get involved,” you look down at the book. “I wouldn’t want to distract you.”
“You need to elaborate on that,” Aemond says uncomprehendingly.
“I’ve heard that you were courting lady Baratheon,” you explain casually, avoiding his gaze.
He hesitates before answering.
“Well, I only plan to,” the prince clarifies. “If she accepts my advances.”
“It would be silly of her not to,” you blurt out and, while you can’t see it, Aemond gives you a quizzical look.
“She may have her reasons —”
“I can’t come up with a single one,” you tell him with so much confidence, Aemond’s heart flutters at your words but you continue without a second thought. “You are intelligent, good-hearted, handsome — and a really skilled swordsman. Not to mention you have the biggest dragon in the realm, which does sound like a reasonable perk.”
The prince is glad that you’re too preoccupied with the book to see his stunned expression. It’s not just the fact that you compliment him so easily — but also the way you do it. When other people try to, they usually start with Vhagar as if the old grumpy creature is the main good thing about Aemond. But you only bring up the dragon at the very end and in passing, instead keeping the focus on the prince. He is silent for a moment, letting your words sink into his memory.
And then Aemond persuades himself that you only said it out of politeness.
You notice his lack of response — and you are about to question it when a maid comes to you in haste:
“Lady Y/N, your presence is needed. Your father is looking for you.”
“Better not keep him waiting,” the prince encourages you with a grin. “If he finds Aegon, he might hug him to death.”
You playfully elbow him and turn to follow the maid but then stop to say:
“Please make sure your brother stays in bed.”
“Will do,” Aemond looks at you walking away, clutching the book to your chest as if it's the most precious thing in the world.
To this day, it is truly a mystery to him how Aegon managed to befriend someone like you.
You met the Targaryen brothers when your family was invited to one of the royal feasts. You were ten and three, the middle one of three sisters. Your oldest — Elaesa — has been the center of attention, beautiful and graceful, but while everyone’s eyes were on her, you looked a little bit disoriented. It was the first feast that you’ve attended, and maybe you got too agitated or overwhelmed — or both — but soon you ended up lost in the castle, and somehow ripped the hem of your dress in the process.
Aemond was the one to find you. The prince has never been keen on taking part in celebrations, often sneaking away from all the noise. That’s when he saw you — fussing with the dress, your sobs echoing through the hall.
“Are you hurt?” he rushed to your side, and you looked up at him with blubbered eyes.
“Why do you have so many halls? You should hand out maps so people can find their way back,” despite being clearly upset, you sounded unusually serious, and Aemond fought back a smile.
“I can help you find your parents without a map,” he suggested, and for a second it seemed to lighten your mood but then your pout worsened.
“I cannot go back,” you gestured at the dress. “I am in such trouble!” you whined, the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.
Truth be told, Aemond didn’t have much experience with ladies back then nor did he know a thing about dresses but your distress seemed so genuine he couldn’t leave you be.
“It is not that bad,” he pointed at the ripped material. “I can ask our seamstress to take a look.”
You studied his face for a second, then glanced back at the dress — surprisingly, that was all it took for you to stop crying, and no other coaxing was needed. You wiped your nose and fixed your hairdo, smoothing the damaged hem the best you could.
“I'd appreciate it if you help me find my way back,” you said, your face seemingly more relaxed.
Getting you to talk was pretty easy, and Aemond shortly discovered how open-minded and outspoken you were, using your quick thinking to compensate for your timid personality. When you returned to the hall of the Iron Throne, he was reluctant to let you go but promised to come back with the seamstress. The task only took him about ten minutes, but when he did reappear, you were not alone — Aegon was standing next to you, making you laugh so hard, it looked like you forgot about the dress already. Aemond didn’t mean to interrupt as he suddenly felt very out of place, uninvited in his own home, so he abandoned the idea of helping you and just left.
At first, he thought you fell for Aegon’s flirtatious charms but soon learned that, as much as you did like his brother’s humor, his charms had no effect on you. On the contrary, you often chided him for hitting on young girls and openly condemned his affection for wine. Your honesty set you apart from all the ladies Aegon was surrounded with — and that was the reason he came to enjoy your company as much as he did. Despite the three years age gap, you were the one who told him the truth, no matter how ugly it might’ve been, but you did so without prejudice or any ill intentions. You would usually follow your critique with advice or a solution of some sort to keep the prince away from unnecessary trouble. That is why you were on friendly terms with Helaena, too, and your influence was also welcomed by Alicent, the then Queen. She liked that you were straightforward with your remarks and often said that you were wise beyond your years. Although, as much as Aemond agreed with it, he suspected there was a reason you had to grow up early.
It happened the same year you met — your older sister, with all her grace and beauty, ran away from home to elope with some unworthy beggar. Your mother was inconsolable for at least a week, saying that Elaesa brought shame upon her family. Your father, the kind man that he is, forgave his daughter fairly quickly and tried his best to restore peace. And yet, you came to realize that Elaesa's vagary did cast a shadow over your House. Your youngest sister, Alyna, was a fragile little thing, frequently sick and tacit — which left you to be the one representing your family in the eyes of society.
Within a few years, there wasn't a thing you weren't good at: lords lined up to have a dance with you, ladies admired how well-spoken you were and shared a laugh at your florid sarcasm, and you learned to embroider, to ride a horse, to walk exquisitely dressed and with impeccable posture. But while for everyone else it was a reason to compliment you, Aemond saw the underlying cause of your diligence — the corrosive desire to prove one's worth which was something he learned to live with as well. And which led him to think he understood you better than anyone.
More often than not he found himself watching you as if he had the need to make sure you weren't in harm's way. Helping you with Aegon was a part of that routine but it also gave him a chance to be alone with you. You talked about everything and nothing in particular, and he would catch glimpses of you — the real you, shy and emotional at times, but still understanding and perceptive. He cherished every opportunity to steal you away from the never-ending chattering, from lords ogling at you, from Jason Lannister whose interest in your company should've been concerning. Aemond has gotten so used to observing you, so enthralled with your covert conversations, he didn't realize that a particular feeling was creeping up on him. But there was one person who turned out to be more observant than Aemond has been.
Aegon was the mere reason why his brother ended up at your door a few days later. Aemond’s been to your place a couple of times and he promptly memorized the way to the farthest room of the house — the one you used to paint in. It was the only thing you truly allowed yourself to enjoy, an unexpected talent of yours which you soon perfected, too, except it wasn't meant for the others to marvel at but plainly for you to keep your head occupied, to have some quiet time.
He walks in when you are already painting the finishing touches. When you turn to greet him, you stop mid-sentence, seeing that it’s Aemond instead of his brother who you were waiting for.
“He overslept,” the younger prince shrugs. “It isn't a bothersome task to come pick up the portrait of my nephews.”
You point in the direction of the painting with the brush in your hand. Aemond admires your work — as he always does — while you try to shake off your confusion. There is another reason you did not expect to see Aemond today. You tarry with voicing your concern but eventually glance at him with empathy:
“I was sorry to hear about lady Baratheon’s decision.”
“I was not,” he’s quick to retort.
“I cannot imagine agreeing to marry a Stark,” you say, dipping a brush in a jar of water.
“Is it the cold weather?” Aemond grins knowingly.
“Yes! Gods, just thinking about it makes me feel uneasy. All the layers you have to wear to keep yourself warm, barely being able to move, getting no sunlight...,” you ramble, making sure to wet all the brushes before lining them up on the table.
“Some say they've got quite a beautiful scenery,” Aemond tries to object although he knows his argument doesn't stand a chance.
“I wouldn't be able to enjoy that,” you huff. “How am I to capture the beauty if my paint freezes?”
He only hums in agreement, watching you busy yourself with your supplies. You go through the brushes, delicately cleaning the bristles with a cloth. Your fingers carefully take one brush after the other, and Aemond silently admires your love for neatness and order.
“You are staring,” you say without turning to him.
“Where do you want me to look at?”
“Aemond, you are in a room full of art!” you chuckle lightly. “Surely, enough options to land your eye on.”
The prince lets his gaze go around the place, and it takes him about a minute to quickly examine all the paintings. And then he inevitably looks at you again. Aemond thinks he likes this view the most.
“When do you begin your next great work of art?” he asks, hoping to distract you.
You halt movement, then force out glumly:
“Never.”
“What do you mean?” he’s taken by surprise.
“I’ve come to realize that I’d never be a genius,” you reluctantly explain. “So I’m giving up all my foolish artistic hopes.”
“Y/N, you cannot be serious. You have so much talent and — ”
“Talent isn’t genius!” you throw up your hands in defeat, and he can sense your frustration from a distance. “I may be talented in other things, but when it comes to painting, I want to be great or nothing. And I am only of middling talent,” you scoop up the brushes, give them a quick look and place in another jar to dry.
Aemond wants to argue, he really does — but he also knows better than to try and persuade you when you are like this: firmly standing your ground, exuding nothing but stubbornness. In any other situation, he would’ve found it endearing but it’s upsetting to see you downplaying your brilliance.
“Hm, may I at least ask your last portrait to be of me?”
You instantly turn to him, taken aback. Throughout the years you’ve known him, he clearly expressed that he did not like being painted, and you only could make a quick sketch or two, at best, when he wasn't paying attention.
“Alright,” the long-awaited opportunity makes you smile. “Next time I come for breakfast, I will drag you into the garden to pose for me,” you give him a pointed look, and Aemond humbly nods.
Your smile grows wider but you try to tone it down, afraid to spook him, and focus on wiping the nearest table.
“What are you going to do with your life in the meantime?” he changes the subject.
“Polish up my other skills and become an ornament to society,” you sigh, putting the cloth away.
There’s a brief pause before he says, his voice a bit strained:
“Here is where Jason Lannister comes in, I suppose?”
You say yes but the answer comes a little bit too fast, and Aemond notices that the topic makes you uncomfortable.
“But you are yet to be betrothed to him,” he clarifies, gaze fixed on you.
“I will be if he proposes,” your eyes meet his, and you are sure that there’s a shadow of disapproval on his face that only spurs your stubbornness. You fully turn to the prince to say: “I always knew I had to marry well, I do not feel ashamed of that.”
But Aemond isn’t looking for a fight — he swiftly corrects himself:
“There is nothing to be ashamed of. As long as...” — he can barely bring himself to say it — “As long as you love him.”
For the reason unknown to Aemond, his statement brings a bleak smile to your face.
“I believe we can have some power over who we love,” you object, lowering your gaze for a second as you start absentmindedly twisting the ring on your finger.
“I think the poets would disagree,” he chuckles, trying to defuse the unexpected tension.
But when you look up at him, your glare is as obdurate as ever.
“Well, I am not a poet, I am just a woman,” you rebut crisply. “And as a woman, I have no illusions about my prospects which do not include me earning a living to support my family. And my parent’s fortune has its limits as I've come to learn. Hence why, if I want to have children — I do — and be able to provide them with everything they wish for, I must rely on my husband,” that last word is pronounced with disappointment. “So don't stand here and tell me that marriage isn't an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you but it certainly is for me.”
Had he not known you, Aemond would’ve been very impressed — with how blunt and witty you are, you are very good at delivering speeches. But as he’s standing in front of you, watching your face, he senses that your determination is akin to despair. Aemond thinks he might take a chance at arguing with you, after all — but you’re both startled by a knock on the door:
“Lady Y/N, Ser Lannister just arrived.”
You look baffled for a second, your confidence crumbling.
“Why would he — I, I didn’t expect him today,” you mumble, almost ashamed of his arrival.
Yet you pull yourself together faster than Aemond can come up with a reason for you to stay. You remove your apron and quickly examine your dress, then move to put on a cape.
“Did I miss any paint stains?” you ask Aemond in a haste.
“No,” he looks over the flowing material of your neat dress, your hair knotted up high — and then: “...Wait!”
You stop abruptly while he grabs a clean cloth.
“There is something on your cheek,” he says as you both step toward each other — and in the next second you’re suddenly standing too close.
You turn to him and shyly shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. Aemond is frozen for a moment but then carefully wipes away a slight smudge of green from under your cheekbone. His hand unwillingly lingers as he examines the delicate features of your face. You open your eyes, looking at the prince questingly. His facial expression is unreadable but it makes you wish you didn’t have to go.
You brush away that silly thought and stand back, fixing your cape.
“How do I look? Do I look alright?”
“You look beautiful,” Aemond says with no hesitation, taking you in — with your cheeks a bit flushed, lip parted and eyes shining. “You are beautiful.”
You seem bewildered at his words but then a smile grows on your face — and in a blink of an eye, you’re gone. The prince is left standing there, staring at the spot where you were just now. The room suddenly feels so empty without you — and so does his heart.
The realization strikes Aemond like lightning: he wants to be the one you come to, at all times. The one holding your hand, watching you paint, or read, or dance — watching you do whatever your heart desires. Because his only desire is to be with you. That thought puts down roots deep into his chest, and he doesn’t know how to pluck it out.
Nor does he want to.
It’s all he can think about for the duration of the week, until you come to the castle — with canvas and supplies, not hiding your excitement. He almost forgot about his promise but follows you into the garden without objection. You sense a slight change in Aemond’s behavior, him being more quiet than usual, but decide not to push the prince so he won’t reconsider.
“I will start with a sketch and then we will go from there. Alright?”
He just hums in response while looking at you but you are unaware of the meaning behind his gaze.
“Take any pose you like, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable,” you suggest with a half-smile, knowing full well he will probably remain standing.
And he does, arms clasped behind his back, his eye never leaving your face. You immerse in the process too quickly to be bothered, the piece of charcoal in your hand sliding over the paper, leaving lines and shadows. Drawing Aemond is an effortless task, and you can only enjoy how easy it is to sketch the sharp contours of his face and his lean body. The simplicity can also be explained by the fact that you've already memorized all the details by heart: the curves of his cheekbones and his lips, the flow of his silver hair, the shape and cut of his eye.
When you are finally satisfied, you can’t tell if it’s been an hour or three, and the prince, as it seems, hasn’t moved a muscle. At this point, Aemond’s demeanor does worry you yet you blame it on his nervousness.
“Want to take a look?” you hand him a few sketches. “Mind you, I’m not finished so please don’t judge too harshly —”
“I could never,” his hand brushes yours when he takes the drawings.
Aemond has seen your works before but it's a whole new experience when he's the one being portrayed. He almost doesn't recognize himself — you didn't miss a single feature of his yet somehow this version of him looks too beautiful to be real. He's at a loss for words until he spots that there's another drawing hidden underneath. It's a sketch of him sitting, both arms on the table, his face looks like he's deep in his thoughts.
“When did you do this one?”
“After the coronation,” the memory makes you smile. “Made my poor father lug around with charcoal in his pockets while he was trying to keep up the conversation with Ser Lannister.”
It was the day you got introduced to Jason. You were supposed to be by his side, with your charming smile and polite talks, yet you spend your time drawing Aemond. He can imagine your gaze focused on the piece of paper, the way you must've been looking at him to capture every detail and movement — all of that without him asking to, without him even noticing. There's so much care in that act, he is unexpectedly moved by it.
The words leave his mouth before he can think them over:
“Don't marry him.”
His request makes your hands tremble, and you drop the piece of charcoal, slowly looking up at Aemond, the smile disappearing from your face. He did not mean that, you must've misunderstood.
“...What?”
Aemond turns to you, looking you straight in the eyes:
“Don't marry him,” he repeats, helplessly and desperately.
“Why?” you ask in disbelief, suddenly having trouble breathing. The only reason you can think of sounds delusional, close to impossible. You wait for him to come up with some clever explanation — instead, he comes closer to you, his gaze so warm it makes your cheeks burn.
“You know why,” Aemond says and his hand gently lands on yours. You look down at it, perplexed, your mouth opening and closing, heart rate speeding up.
He keeps his eye on your face as he waits for your reply. You are not repulsed nor angry — which is supposed to be a good sign — but the reaction he gets is actually worse than that. Because when you finally glance at him, you look hurt.
“No,” you yank away your hand as if his touch stung. “No, Aemond, you are being mean, stop it,” you take a step back, your eyes glossy and lips tight. The look you give causes him physical pain — while you are trying your best to fight back the tears.
His intelligence clearly fails him because Aemond has no clue what’s going on. He feels like there is a deeper meaning to your words but he does not get it.
“Why am I being mean?” he asks incredulously as you slowly continue putting more distance between you two.
You don’t even realize you are doing it — it’s almost an urge to not be in his presence, for the first time ever. The weight of his words feels suffocating and merciless. How easy it is for him to toy with your emotions, you think, and that cruelty of his — as you see it — wounds you so deeply, he might as well put a torch to your heart.
“I have felt like everyone’s second choice my entire life,” you bemoan, not being able to keep your agony bottled up any longer. “In everything, no matter how hard I’ve worked to be better. I thought you out of all people would understand that,” you sound raspy, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.
“So I will not be the person you settle for just because your first marriage proposal was turned down,” only when your voice shudders, Aemond finally understands how wrongfully you interpreted his intentions.
But you are out of his reach already — at least ten feet away from him, and the distance separates you like a giant chasm.
“No, I won’t. I can’t,” you are hurting so much, your feelings spill out like blood from a wound. “I can’t do it. Not when I have spent years loving you.”
His breathing hitches as your confession pierces through his chest — and he is left speechless, deafened by it. The moment slips through his fingers with unforgiving pace: you were standing so close only a minute ago — and now you are turning your back to him, rushing away. The last thing he sees is how broken you look, your shoulders slumped and eyes brimming with tears.
Aemond stands, shocked and paralyzed until it’s too late — the garden is silent with your absence and the only evidence of you being there is your supplies scattered on the ground. Your words are ringing in his head, his heart heavy with a dreadful feeling.
He was afraid he would never have you — but he actually could have.
If only he wasn't so blind.
➡ Part 2
yes, this is me blabbing again:
I’ve watched this movie an embarrassing amount of times, and I’ve wanted to write a fic based on it for a few months. I did rephrase a couple of quotes but still tried my best to do the story justice. my apologies for the angst — just so you know, it was painful to write. also, will I ever stop using friends to lovers trope? only time will tell! (I probably won't, though)
I know there is a very heartwarming fic by aemonds-war-crime that was also based on “Little women” and it's only fair that I link it as well!
tagging @greenowlfactif because you asked 💙
comments and opinions are VERY welcomed! 🥺
🎨 my masterlist
English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!
#aemond targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#<<< PLS don’t be mad! I know Aegon isn’t the main character but he has a meaningful role#so I thought maybe I should add his tag too... (PLS DON’T BE MAD)#on a completely unrelated note I decided to start with dialogue(s) and then bring the backstory#I think it’s more engaging??? but we’ll see how that goes#also it was a conscious decision to start with Aemond’s side of the story — just so it comes as a surprise when she says ‘hey I loved you f#(I mean it obviously won’t be surprising if you saw the movie...)#ALSO I really hope you guys will want the second part (’cause I already wrote it lmao)#my stuff#aemond x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond one eye#aemond one eye x y/n#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen fanfics#aemond targaryen fics#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen fanfic#hotd fanfiction#aemond angst#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen angst
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hii ! i LOVED your percy x reader sm!! and your writing is BEAUTIFUL !
ik you just posted recently but could you do percy x gn!reader with prompt 9? and possibly make it enemies to lovers? <3
Maybe even enemies can love each others…
prompt 9: “are you flirting with me? Took you long enough to understand it”
A shared punishment imposed by Mr. D, by the side of the great Percy Jackson leads you to finally face all the feeling that you had hid for so long…
A/n: Omg! Thank you so much! 😭😭😭 you have no idea how much this comment means to me, you literally made my day 🧡🧡 I’m not an English native speaker, so I’m always doubting about both my writing and my language skills, so having a compliment like this is just very appreciated! As always the prompt list is on my page.
words count: 800
warnings: maybe cursing? Other than that none
——————————————————————————————————
It wasn’t like you totally hated Percy Jackson. He saved your life more than once and was after all a nice guy. But he got under your skin, a whole lot. You hated how everyone at camp saw him as the perfect guy, the handsome boy with a golden heart who saved Olympus twice and had chosen to refuse immortality to help the camp, heck, even his fatal flaw was a merit! But you hated it because it wasn’t absolutely like that… ok, maybe it was. But you hated how no one pointed out his flaws.
So here you were, forced to a shared punishment with the son of Poseidon because you two had ‘disturbed’ Mr. D’s breakfast with your bickering. You pulled up your sleeves and put on a pair of gloves waiting for the torture to end. You two had to wash the breakfast dishes in the camp’s kitchen and you both were left alone since Mr. D had left.
You watched the water pour from the sink faucet as you held out an hand and waited for Percy to pass you a plate… except he didn’t. When you turned he was juggling with some apples found around. You let out a tired sigh “have you finished messing around or do I have to clean up all of this by myself?” Annoyance dripping from your voice. With a single move he stopped throwing the apples in the air and put them down on a near wooden table “you should enjoy your life more, you know?” He teased, a smirk was playing on his lips and Oh gods, how much you’d like to smack it out of his sneering face! But you couldn’t, so you simply turned your glare back to the sink and said nothing else, you had to bite your tongue to not retort back.
He then came closer to the counter with a pile of dirty dishes in his hands, a light was entering the window and kissing his face almost poetically, his green eyes shining bright… what were you thinking?! You forced yourself to simply take a plate and you started washing it, well aware of his eyes on you. “You’re just gonna stay there all day staring at me or you’ll actually help?” You asked him in a very serious voice, and he laughed, how dared that- “relax, we have plenty of time and if you didn’t notice I’m helping you” he said, clearly amused, you side glared at him “how, exactly?” He put down the pile of plates and took a step nearer “I carried here the dishes” he pointed out, you rolled your eyes, and turned your head once again to give him a warning glance to not make you anger, but you stopped the moment his face came into your vision. Why did he need to have such a pretty face, you wondered.
You ended up doing all the dishes alone as he stood there, until finally he spoke “I like your eyes” he said, you turned, confused, he had that same playful light as always “you what?” You ask, looking at him, your face scrunched up in confusion “You heard me” he said smiling, as he got nearer “do you want to play 5 questions?” He asked, you turned fully, your back resting on the counter as you dried your hands, the dishes could have waited
“Wasn’t the game ‘20 question’?” He shook his head “It’s funnier this way, you have to choose the most important ones” He said, your shoulders were touching and, oh boy, you didn’t mind at all “Who starts?” You asked, he went straight to speaking up “what’s your favourite colour?” You laughed a bit at the irony of the question “what about the talk you made about three seconds ago about the fact that this way we had to do important questions?” You mocked him “you didn’t answer” he answered back, ignoring completely your statement “I like green” you shrugged “like my eyes?” He questioned “like your eyes” you confirmed “my turn… do you like someone?” You asked, sure that the answer would have been a positive one, even if strangely the thought made you jealous. “Yes, a certain child of y/g/p, who has a really smart mouth” he looked you in the eyes and you could swore he was looking into the depth of your soul. You stood there, processing the information with your mouth slightly agape. “Are you flirting with me?” You asked, in total disbelief, he took a step closer, placing his hand on your cheek, even if he was warm it made you shiver “took you long enough to understand it” and then he closed the gap between your lips, with the softest kiss someone has ever gave you…
A/n: Hope it reached your standards! Feel free to request anything else! 🧡🧡🧡
#Pjo#Percy Jackson#Pjo x reader#Percy Jackson x reader#x reader#annabeth chase x reader#leo valdez x reader#Piper McLean x reader#jason grace x reader#prompt list
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Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader
Part 1: It Starts In A Bar
summary: your friends take you out to a local pub when you would much rather be grading assignments.
a/n: hello! big surprise, me writing for john price! I don't know how long this will be, but I definitely have a general idea of where I want this to go. I hope y'all like it!
thank you @lethalchiralium for dragging me into the clubhouse kicking and screaming LMAO
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Why did they pick this place again?
Ah, right. “It’s a hometown pub, a staple to the community,” they said. That was clear from the couple dozen men and women, ranging from middle-aged to elderly, scattered about, and a few younger folks peppered into the crowd. It wasn’t run down by any means, just…a dive. You mindlessly picked at the peanuts and pretzels in little bowls, elbows perched on the edge of the sticky table, for hours. You chatted and occasionally laughed at the stories they shared about their homeroom students and the shenanigans the other grades got up to. You’d been teaching year thirteen for a while, students taking their A-levels in history.
It was supposed to be a quiet evening, spent with a stack of papers to grade, surrounded by glowing candles scattered around your apartment accompanied by soft white string lights stretched across the ceiling. Instead, your friends somehow managed to drag you out of your cozy home to a dark dive in town. You loved them dearly (really, you did), but you had a routine. Your ideal Friday night wasn’t in a damp bar.
Your kids could be challenging at times in their late teens. They occasionally cause trouble, known for getting into fights, interrupting class, or bringing drama into the classroom. Nevertheless, you’d never had a set of students that was more than you could handle. They turned their work in on time and were always nosy about your personal life, which – much to their chagrin – was uneventful. Your love life was stale, to put it nicely. And your friends tried everything in their power to set you up on dates, every single one striking out miserably. It didn’t feel natural to meet some guy at a restaurant for a blind date.
One of them talked about themselves the entire time, barely letting you get a word in. The next ordered about three more drinks than you and a meal that cost twice as much as yours but demanded you split the cost of the date. You were all for splitting the bill but on the first date? Not a good impression.
The rest were uninteresting and immemorable.
“Seriously? You haven’t been on a date since – Oh, what was his name again?”
“Zachary,” you pointed out, taking a long sip of your drink. “You should know; you set up the date.”
“I know, I know. I didn’t realize he was such a bore one-on-one.”
“Thanks for that, by the way. Loved talking to myself for two hours.”
You all laughed at the memory, starting to finish drinks and gather belongings. “Let’s get to the next spot to find you a man!”
Bar hopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you knew better than to resist. It would all be over much faster if you just went along. Your companions were much quicker on their exit, considering the nearly-full drink that you felt like you just bought, and they were already moving on to the next dig. You threw the rest of your drink back, flinching as the big gulp of alcohol burned down your throat, and hurried to catch up with them. You took one of their outstretched hands, giggling as they just about pulled you into the circle exiting the pub–
“Excuse me, miss!” a deep voice called out. You’re not sure why, but you turned, feeling like the man was calling out to you. Your assumption turned out to be correct, and a tall, dark-haired man with a beard and a soft smile approached you. “Sorry, you left this.”
He held your cardigan to you. You must have abandoned it in your haste.
“Oh! Thank you so much. That’s kind of you,” you said, taking the garment back and draping it over your forearm. “I’d forget my head if it weren’t attached,” you added, tapping your temple with a soft chuckle.
“Quite alright.” Behind you, an elbow nudged your spine; you barely caught yourself from making a face and snapping at whichever acquaintance decided to egg you on. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it seems you’re heading out.”
He certainly was handsome. His beard was well-groomed, just like his hair. It looked like he went to a barber fairly recently. He even dressed well, in a cream, ribbed polo tucked loosely into his jeans. Dark chest hair peeked out where the top two buttons were undone. It was an enticing offer…
“Um, yeah, but….” You looked over your shoulder and met expectant glances. Some looked like they were about to bust apart at the seams with glee, which made you roll your eyes. Clearly, you wouldn’t be missed. “I could hang for a little while longer.”
The man's smile grew, and his stance shifted to open a path toward the bar. “Are you sure? Y’don’t have to,” he amended, his hands in his pockets. His energy was warm and soft but still masculine. He held a confidence that not many people carried, at least not the men you’d been on dates with recently. And the Liverpool accent? Maybe things were starting to look up.
“No, no, I honestly need another drink.” You flashed your teeth back to him, folding your arms over your chest with your sweater in hand.
“In that case, after you.”
Before taking his arm, you realized you’d yet to even ask for his name. “Thank you…?”
“John.” John’s right hand hovered before you and he flashed his bright teeth. His hands were clean, nails neatly trimmed. Although, one nail bed was bruised.
Man, he’s pretty for a grown man.
“Y/N,” you replied with an easy grin. He kept a steady hold on your gaze, carefully examining the bright twinkle they held. You didn’t know it, but John had just returned from a long mission. One that had left him yearning for a shower, a haircut, and somebody to come home to. He’d never had anything to look forward to and stay alive for; no affection or comfort after a rough assignment, no one to care for and spoil.
And he wanted that.
“A surname to that, John?” you asked, sliding your hand through the loop he created with his elbow. Holy shit, he was strong. Your hand rested on the soft but well-built muscle of his bicep. You figured he must have a labor-intensive job, or he goes to the gym frequently. John didn’t seem like the type to spend hours at the gym in his spare time, so you went with the first option. You’d keep that in mind when making small talk later.
“John Price.”
“Very regal name.”
John scoffed but laughed nonetheless. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”
John couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were unbelievably bubbly, especially for interacting with a stranger who only gave back your forgotten cardigan. He’d been watching you from his spot at the bar, laughing with your friends but zoning out every once in a while. He was no stranger to giving himself a mental break, particularly in a hectic environment like a packed bar on a cool, Friday evening.
“I’ll call you when I need a ride!”
You and John watched the giggly group exit the pub, happily waving as they piled into a cab. You waved back with your free hand, your other palm still pressed against his warm skin. They didn’t embarrass you too badly, thank god. You met John’s eyes, a dark color twinkling with mischief.
“Your friends seem chipper.”
“I’m so sorry. They’re just happy to see me talking to a man.”
“Oh? Is that right?” he chuckled, nodding to your previously held table. John broke away briefly to retrieve his unfinished drink and denim jacket from the bar.
You followed his lead back to the booth, attempting to keep control of the flush you felt beginning to heat your cheeks. “They’ve set me up on many an unfortunate date. Not saying I don’t get along fine on my own, but–”
“It’s rough out there?” he finished, sliding into the cushioned seat across from you. When you nodded in return, John smirked. “Believe me. I get it. My career makes it difficult to find time for much of anything.”
“Yeah, well, I have sixteen kids.”
The man sputtered, choking on what looked to be an old-fashioned. Possibly a bad joke, but it was such a great opportunity; you were feeling frisky, and you couldn’t help the giggles that erupted following his reaction. “I teach history for year thirteen.”
“Oh, thank Christ.” John wiped the cocktail off his lip with the back of his hand, shaking his head at your laughter. “You had me going there. Five minutes into our date, and I’ve made a mess of myself.”
You quirked a brow. “So this is a date?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Well, I would consider it light conversation. Getting to know each other.”
“That’s a date.”
“Mmm, I’d say it’s more casual than that.”
“I’m not looking for casual, love.”
You paused, examining his calm demeanor. He didn’t seem cocky, but honest, a welcome change to the pattern you’d observed over the last few months. None of your dates had been so bold as to know what they want and make their intentions clear. Especially not so quickly. It was refreshing.
“Me neither.”
“Good.”
You both sat in peace, pausing your conversation for the waitress. You ordered another drink, as promised, and folded your hands on the tabletop, fingers laced. “So, what do you do, John?” you asked, tapping your thumbs together.
“I’m in the military.”
You paused, expectantly waiting for him to continue, only to be met with silence.
“Care to elaborate?”
He tutted once with his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. “I would love to, but I can’t.”
Interesting. Normally, resistance like that would be a red flag. On the other hand, his job could be “classified” or whatever is said in the movies. No alarms went off in your mind; your intuition told you that John was trustworthy, so you let it go. The pretty brunette dropped your new drink off and another for John.
“I can tell you that I’m a Captain.”
“So you have pretend kids too?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he hummed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. A slight tinge of the citrus notes from the expressed orange peel wafted across the table. John’s laugh was distinctive, chesty and rumbly, inviting. “Of course. Mine are bigger, though, I’m sure.”
“Oh? They’re not scrawny little soldiers?”
“No. One’s almost two meters tall.”
“Jesus. How many?”
“Five. Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alex, and Farah.”
“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet them.”
“Likewise.”
You fussed with your hair for about the thousandth time in your bathroom mirror and huffed when it wouldn’t settle right. John was to meet you in about fifteen minutes. Knowing him, that meant he would be buzzing up to your apartment any second. You’d been on a few dates and knew his date habits pretty well. If you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late. You had been out to dinner, grabbed coffee once or twice; you even grabbed an ice cream. So, it was a surprise when John suggested a trip to the museum. It didn’t seem like his thing, but you weren’t about to turn down a trip to the history exhibit.
As you expected, a familiar BZZT BZZT reverberated through your flat, signaling his arrival. The first time he picked you up, you let him into the building without using the intercom. You tried explaining that the speaker broke and your landlord had yet to fix it (shocker), but John wouldn’t hear it. You could have been letting in a random creep pressing buttons until some tenant unlocked the door. He insisted on creating a little system, so you would know it was him downstairs and not a kidnapper. From then on, he always rang the bell twice.
You gave up on your hair, switched the light off, and paged him in. Your unit was on the first floor (which wasn’t ideal), so it only took John a few seconds to reach your door. When you heard a knock at your door, you peered through the peephole (as promised) before unlocking the deadbolt, revealing a very well-dressed captain. John’s hair was a bit shaggy, but it suited him well. Your heart fluttered helplessly at the bright smile that appeared when he laid eyes on you, his gaze obviously taking in the sight before him.
It was a weeknight, and you didn’t have time to change between school and your usual errands. You threw a plaid skirt, thigh-high socks, and loose sweater together; just a sliver of skin showed between the top of your socks and hem of your skirt. You felt underdressed compared to John, but there wasn’t much you could do about it.
“Hi,” he said, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You look lovely.”
“Same to you. You always clean up well.”
“If you saw the state I’m usually in at work – you’d understand why.”
John kept a watchful eye to make sure you turned both locks for your door before guiding you outside to a waiting taxi with a hand on the small of your back. He held the door to your building and the car open for you. The drive was short, but the weather was starting to catch a bit of a chill, and you didn’t want to walk too far.
Ever the gentleman, the captain followed closely behind you up the steps to the gallery. Even if he weren’t perceptive, with years of experience reading people, he could tell you were excited to be there; however, he wasn’t so experienced in the ‘romance’ department. John honestly couldn’t even remember the last time he visited any museum, let alone a dedicated history exhibition. But when he suggested it and assured you that he would have a good time, he was only being partially truthful. Secretly, the man just wanted an excuse to listen to you talk. What better place to bring you than an exhibit where he knew you would talk his ear off for hours?
You slowly worked your way through each exhibit, explaining some pieces you recognized and their significance to the period; at displays you weren’t familiar with, you both quietly hovered closer to the title cards, reading through the description. While that kind of date wasn’t John’s usual cup of tea, he was glad he planned it; it helped him figure out how to slow the fuck down and try to be normal outside of a military setting or a pub.
His breath nearly stuttered every time you laid a gentle hand on his arm and drew his attention to the next section, beaming as you animately but quietly pointed out the tiny details in a Renaissance painting hung on the wall. The man couldn’t help but stare at how your lips curved at every syllable, wide eyes glued on the intricate scene portrayed. John hadn’t spoken much so far aside from the occasional affirmation that he was listening; he was very much in his head, unsure if you were excited to be there with him or just excited to be there. But, standing in front of the big painting, you went quiet. You met his gaze, and his lips pulled into a lopsided grin, which you returned before you both shifted back to the artwork. It was peaceful, absorbing the atmosphere and just existing together. Suddenly, John was jolted out of his reverie by the feeling of something brushing the side of his palm.
You were itching to hold his hand all night but were too nervous to take that leap. What if he rejected you? That wasn’t likely after so many dates, but still. Your nerves got the better of you for the better half of the self-guided tour. Regardless, you had managed to work up the courage, cautiously grazing your pinky against his wrist and hand before wrapping it around his. You didn’t look away from the illustration, but he did, moving to you, then down to your hands.
He simply stared for a moment, surprised but positively giddy at the same time. Surely enough, John took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and leaning just a bit closer to you. He could stand there forever, basking in your warmth and energy, the sound of your voice sinking into his every thought–
“Oh no,” you said, breaking the silence. You looked up at him worried, wrinkles forming between your brows. “I-I’m sorry. I was teaching again.”
He immediately gave you a reassuring squeeze, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Don’t be. I like hearing you talk.” Jesus, did he have a way with words. He liked hearing you talk? With that accent, he could spew nonsense, and it would still draw you in. But hearing John Price give you compliments and praise? Flattery? You were a goner. “Tell me more about the next one?”
As if he could get any more fucking perfect.
“Okay.”
Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.
#captain john price x f!reader#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#john price x f!reader#john price x teacher!reader#call of duty#captain john price#cardigan as is above so below#as is above so below#cod mw#mw fics#call of duty fanfic#modern warfare#modern warfare 2#modern warfare ii#teacher!reader#john price x afab!reader
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WATER˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.
500 follower special!
pairing: bestfriend's brother!wooyoung x ftm reader [gn reader coming soon!]
wordcount: 6,7k
content: Your best friend's twin has been the bane of your existence for the last 10 years. That was, until, he decided to visit your dreams.
warnings: nsfw, drinking, weed - both joints and a bong, drinking games, cunnilingus, pool sex, sex without a condom (dont!) afab ftm reader, use of words like cunt, clit etc. lmk if I'm missing anything!
soundtrack: water + truth or dare - tyla, Water - Ten
a/n: Thank you so much for 500 followers😭😭 I hope this fic makes up for all of my breaks between fics I made this as long as I could bc I really wanted to do smth special <333 also shoutout to @zh0nggucc1 for being my bsf 🙏❤️ one more note, this is proofread but I always manage to make a 1000 mistakes so I apologise for any!! Happy reading!
Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
"Finally you're here! Took you long enough" your best friend shouts over the music, holding out a shot glass filled with a clear liquid, "Gotta do a shot before I let you in, Jongho's orders" she smirks as she salutes.
"Really? At-," you quickly glance at your phone," 5 pm? I thought drinking would start later?" you look over the girl's shoulder to see Jongho and Mingi already holding clear cups with some sort of concoction in them.
"Look I'm not arguing with Jongho, he'll throw me in the pool and I haven't changed into my swimsuit yet, so! Take the damn shot will you, pretty please?" she looked at you with big round eyes as if that would persuade your decision.
"I'll do it just stop looking at me like that, it's kind of scary…" you teased, grabbing the shot and throwing it back, hissing slightly at the burn.
"Atta boy! Now go say hi while I go get changed." she ran off before you could argue. As you stepped inside you were greeted by your two friends that you had just seen, Mingi throwing his arm over your shoulder pulling you close to him and offering you his cup. You took a sip out of curiosity about what they had been drinking, not surprised when it tasted of all the soju flavours mixed with a dash of some juice they'd found in the back of the cupboard.
"Mmm! That is awful! Best one yet Mingi I mean seriously they should get you making poison," you and Jongho laughed as Mingi shoved your shoulder and pouted.
You felt eyes on you from somewhere as you looked around the room, your vision landing on the one person you'd hoped you wouldn't have to see until at least 10 shots in. Wooyoung.
Wooyoung was the biggest pain in your ass, and what made it even worse was that he was your best friend's brother. You had been best friends with Vee since the rotten age of 12 years old. Since your first day at your new school, you had practically been attached at the hip, never being away from each other for more than a couple of days — the problem there was that her twin brother Wooyoung was also attached to your hip, and somehow knew how to get on your every last nerve. He never did anything inherently bad to you but you just found him irritating nonetheless, even as the years passed, the smirk on his face every time he said or did something that knew would rile you up irked you.
"Your little boyfriend is watching you again~" Mingi sang into your ear, obviously already tipsy because there was no way in hell you'd ever be with Wooyoung. Was he attractive? Objectively, you guessed so. Had he given you butterflies once or twice when he held your hips to pass you as you helped his mom with the dishes? Maybe? But that was just a natural reaction, it didn't mean anything. Did the clothes that he gave you after you came out smell like him and make you feel funny? … He uses a nice cologne, that's all— The point is he wouldn't date you with the way he acted and you wouldn't either. So it was fine. Totally. Fine.
You elbowed Mingi in the side causing him to double over dramatically and wail, making Jongho laugh even more. You laughed along but couldn't shake the feeling that Wooyoung was still staring at you, so you excused yourself from the boys to go see Hongjoong in the kitchen.
"Vee not with you?" He asked as he spotted you rounding the island to greet him.
"She's upstairs getting changed, Praying she won't be much longer, need her to swat Wooyoung away." Hongjoong laughed as he shook his head at your misery.
"Surely he's not that bad y/n, he's cool when he's with us, a yapper at most," you stared at him with disbelief.
"All of you. Traitors!" You sighed as Hongjoong began to laugh more.
"Who's a traitor?" Your muscles stiffened as you felt a familiar pair of hands on your sides, causing you to roll your eyes and ignore the dip in your stomach. One thing Wooyoung never seemed to understand was personal space, 'what's yours is mine' as he would say.
"We all think you're just the best Wooyoung but y/n doesn't agree," Hongjoong exclaims to the boy behind you. You shake your head at Hongjoong's words, they might be true but it was still rough he put you on the spot. Wooyoung's thumb massaged the flesh at your side as he placed his head on your shoulder.
"Impossible, y/n loves me, don't you?" He smirked as you looked down at him. That fucking smirk.
"yeah, about as much as the rock in my shoe right now," you huffed as you shrugged him off. "I'm getting in the pool, I'll see you lot there, yeah?" you announced, walking through the back door before hearing Vee's voice behind you.
"Wait for me!" She exclaimed slipping by her brother and joining your side, a cute and flowy bathing suit adorning her body as Hongjoong watched her flaunt past. As you got to the pool Vee turned to you, "What was happening with you and Woo back there?" you shook your head, already sick of hearing his name in such as short amount of time.
"Nothing was happening! He's just weird and clingy!" Vee looked at you with confusion, being able to read your thoughts and know them better than you do at this point.
"Then why are you being so defensive? He doesn't usually piss you off this bad, what happened?" She said in a soft tone, the tone that made you feel safe despite feeling so irritated. You knew the answer to her question, but your words fell short.
Last night you had a dream. About Wooyoung. Everything seemed normal until he sat down next to you on your best friend's bed and laid his hand against your thigh, his thumb circling the skin just as his hands would always do when they came into contact with you.
"You want me, don't you?" His big brown eyes stared into your own as he carried on massaging your flesh, tingles zipping up and down your spine as you sat there in utter shock. The close proximity forced you to take in all his features. His little moles under his eye and on his lip. His gorgeous jawline sculpted by god himself. The way his fresh out-of-the-shower hair was draped over his forehead and the way the water droplets rolled over his tanned skin. God, he really was pretty, wasn't he? Your eyes darted back and forth between his features before finally landing back on his lips. You felt yourself leaning forward, losing control of your muscles as you did.
"Yeah." Wooyoung's face moved towards yours and joined your lips together so gently you barely felt it as his free hand pressed to your neck to bring you closer, the warmth of his hands and lips sending you into overdrive-
And that's when you jolted up out of your sleep in a cold sweat.
"Hello? Earth to y/n?" Vee waved a hand in front of your face to try to gain your attention, "What you thinking about?
"I… I had a dream and it's freaking me out okay? No more questions." you mumbled out of embarrassment.
"About my brother!? That's definitely new…don't tell me if you had sex because that's gross but I'm gonna need details!" she looks at you with a look of curiosity and horror.
"Will you lower your voice? Good god, I'm about five seconds from drowning myself in your pool."
She sighs, "Fine, but just use protection, you'd be a great dad but I don't want to be an aunt yet, I'm already busy enough with Kyungmin." you mirror her look of horror from a minute ago.
"I'm not gonna have sex with him Jesus!" she laughs at your panicked expression before sitting down to dip her feet in the pool.
"You getting in or what? We've been standing around for long enough" she said before throwing herself into the pool, splashing you on the way in. You smile and set your stuff down on a chair before taking your shirt off and following suit.
You and Vee chilled in the pool as more guests arrived and began to fill the water around you with inflatables and games, music filling the air as the sky changed to purple and red hues, the fairy lights hung on the fence twinkling this the reflection of the water. After a while, you could feel your skin getting ready to shrivel in the water so you decided to get out and dry off and get a drink. Compared to earlier the kitchen was now filled with people, the majority you knew but there were still quite a few new faces, maybe Wooyoungs friends? you didn't really care to converse with people who associated with him, so you went straight to the drinks table.
Only to feel a stranger's hands around you, pulling you towards him, "Hey handsome, what are you drinking? I'll get it for you hm?" Great, some drunk asshole has already started making rounds but before you could even reply with a snide comment, Wooyoung had ripped the guy away from you and had a hand clutched onto the guy's shirt.
"Don't fucking touch him you asshole, if you're gonna act like this Minjun ill kick you out right fucking now." Woo hissed at.. minjun? so he must know him then. Minjun put his hands up in defeat and apologised to Wooyoung before walking to the living room. Wooyoung turned back to you looking you up and down with worry. He knew you weren't comfortable with that much physicality, especially with strangers, but it was still weird to see him so outwardly caring about the state you were in. Maybe he was always like this, but you opted to ignore him most of the time so you wouldn't know.
"Y/n you okay, he didn't hurt you right? do you want him out he can leave, I'm sorry I didn't think he'd be weird-" You cut off his rambling, just wanting to leave and put on a shirt to not feel so exposed for the time being.
"Woo, it's fine I'll survive." You were looking around until that moment, finally connecting with his eyes. You noticed that he had a rather surprised reaction, not understanding why until you replayed what you just said in your head.
You never called him Woo, that was only reserved for friends. You never considered yourself to be anything close to a friend to him so you refused to call him it, despite him telling you to the first time you met him. You didn't really want to discuss this with him any more than you already had, so you slid past him to go and grab your shirt.
"Seriously, what the fuck is happening with you two?" Vee laughed at her brother, "He's spoken to you more tonight than he has in the last 10 years and It's kind of freaking me out honestly." Wooyoung stood there still in a state of surprise, acknowledging his sister's words, before returning to his regular composure.
"Oh I'll figure it out, he can't keep a secret from me." He flashed a grin at his sister and sauntered to the living room, grabbing an empty bottle and calling everyone to sit down and play spin the bottle.
You reluctantly sat down in the fairly small circle after San linked arms with you and practically pulled you to it. Surprisingly most of the guests didn't want to play so most of them either sat down to spectate and cheer on the players or moved outside to relax in the warm summer night air.
"Who's going first then?" Seonghwa sighed looking around the circle, praying someone would volunteer so there wouldn't be an extensive game of rock paper scissors.
"One of the hosts should go first, it's courtesy" Yeosang chimed in, looking between Wooyoung and Vee.
"Ooh, I'll go then~" Vee chirped, leaning into the middle and giving the bottle a good spin. The circle of people watched the bottle circle round a few times before landing dead centre between Hongjoong and Mingi.
"That's pointing at me!" Mingi exclaimed to Hongjoong, only for Hongjoong to argue back that it was pointing at him.
Vee laughed at the bickering boys, "I'll kiss you both then, yeah?" She crawled over to where they were and gave them a quick peck each before moving back to her space. You rolled your eyes and laughed at the boys who were abashedly blushing next to you. They span the bottle a few more times before it finally landed on you. At this point the group was teetering on the edge of being buzzed and drunk, you being the former.
"Come on y/n spin it!~" Vee shouted not being able to register her volume now, obviously being the latter the way her cheeks were rosy. You reached over to the bottle and spun it, anticipation making your stomach churn. You watched it spin round and around, feeling as though it was taking hours to slow down. Finally, it came to a halt and your heart stopped, knowing damn well who was sitting in that direction. But as you looked up -
"Yunho! kiss! kiss! kiss!" the circle cheered and gawked at the two of you in excitement. You and Yunho met in the middle before pressing your lips together briefly, moving back to your designated spots. Yunhos cheeks were slightly flushed, mostly from the alcohol, but before you could think about it anymore, your eyes drifted to Wooyoung who was staring right back at you. His eyelids were lowered as he kept his gaze fixed on your lips. what the fuck? You would blame it on him drinking but he had drank less than you at the point, so it was kind of scaring your buzzed brain.
As you watched the bottle spin over and over again, it managed to keep narrowly avoiding you, making your stomach flip time and time again as it passed you. As the circle started to get bored, Vee suggested we amp up the tension by playing truth or dare.
"But if you decide not to do it you have to take a shot, okay?" The group nods in agreement and Vee spins the bottle once more to decide who the first victim is. As the bottle span once the tension rose in your chest, you could already feel who it was going to land on, and sure enough, it came to a halt pointing straight at the man across from you.
"Woo! Truth or dare?" He ponders for a second before deciding on his answer.
"Dare." Wooyoung looks at you before returning his line of sight to his sister. But, before she could answer with a dare, you chimed in first.
"I dare you to back Mingi's cup!" You looked at the growing horror on his face, as Mingi was famous for his awful attempts at being a mixologist, but Woo wasn't ready to lose a dare, even if the counterpart was only taking one shot instead. He wasn't really thinking at that moment since it was you who asked. You watched him stand up and walk over to Mingi, grabbing his cup and staring at it briefly while grimacing before bringing it to his soft lips and chugging it in one go. As he finished the drink he hissed at the taste and shook his head before giving Mingi a stinkeye and walking back to his seat.
"Okay, y/n, truth or dare" Wooyoung studied you, waiting for your answer.
"Uh, truth?" you stammered out trying to think about what Wooyoung would've made you do if you had picked dare, probably make you jump in the pool or-
"What was the last thing you touched yourself over?" what the fuck? the room filled with oohs and giggles while they waited for your answer. How the fuck could you tell them it was a dream about Wooyoung that had pushed you over the edge? you hadn't even told Vee because she still would have likely been horrified despite her interest
"um, a dream." The circle cheered and laughed again at your answer and you could feel your cheeks warming.
"what was it about y/n?" Wooyoung pushed more and the circle seemed to get more excited in anticipation of your reply.
You huffed at Wooyoung, "Not telling you weirdo, plus it's not 21 questions." feeling eyes on you at your small outburst. "I'm gonna get a drink, carry on without me, I'll be back." You smiled, putting on your best poker face before getting up and leaving the room. you could feel Wooyoungs eyes on the back of you as you walked out almost making you stumble. You walked through the kitchen, grabbed a fresh drink filled to the brim and walked out to the pool, slipping your shoes off once again and dipping your feet into the pool. You felt your body cool down in the summer night air as you swayed your legs in the water and sipped on your drink. Why was Wooyoung being so weird today? His gaze was making you feel dizzy, you'd never really felt this way about him so why was a silly dream affecting you so much? You felt as if he was reading your mind all night and it was starting to get to you honestly.
"You want to smoke?" The familiar voice nearly made you fall into the pool, Speak of the fucking devil. You turn your head to see the last person you would want to right now, holding a joint in one hand and a lighter in the other. Despite your need to be as far away as possible from this man right now, you couldn't pass up the one chance at relaxation being offered to you.
"…Sure." You reluctantly answered him. He took a seat way too close for your comfort at this moment, but you tried to shrug the weird feeling in your stomach off. You watched Wooyoung hold the joint between his fingers and light it, bringing it to his lips. He took a hit and handed it to you, smoke cascading out of his mouth while looking into your eyes.
"Your turn," He kept observing you as you took a hit from the joint, feeling it travel down into your lungs and relaxing you instantly. You took one more long puff before handing it back to the boy next to you and laid back to look up at the stars. You and Wooyoung kept passing it back and forth in silence till it was finished, him now laying back with you.
"Why do you hate me so much, y/n?" He said so quietly you barely caught it.
You sighed before formulating a reply, "You used to irritate me a lot when we were younger, you'd pushed my buttons too much and I started to dislike you more and more. Now though? I'm not really sure anymore." You tilted your head to look at Wooyoung only to see he was looking right back at you. He was always looking at you.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to be your friend, but you pushed me away and the only way I knew how to get your attention was to do what I did, and eventually I didn't even realise what I was doing to you, to our relationship." His words felt sincere, and fuck you felt horrible. You knew Wooyoung only acted that way with you and you hadn't even noticed why, not even after ten years of fighting. You kept looking into his eyes, and you could see the sadness in them. Was that always there and you just never noticed?
"I never said thank you for the clothes you gave me when I came out, did I?…thank you."
"I knew you needed them, they were waiting in a stack for the day you would claim them." before you could even realise it, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. Wooyoung hesitantly lifted his palm to your face and wiped the wetness from your face, stroking his finger under your eye and cupping your face with his hand. His soft thumb swiped back and forth, gently caressing your face.
He looked so pretty in the moonlight. The way the light sat on his lashes and defined his jaw made you want to touch. You craved to feel the surface of his skin grazing against your palm right now you could hardly fight it. Instead, you leaned into his chest and rested your head on his collarbone, not daring to look into his eyes right now, not daring to reveal the emotions in the expression that was on your face. He stroked your hair rhythmically and you felt your whole body relaxed into his touch, god was this what you were missing out on all this time?
"Don't fall asleep on me now, my sister will kill me if she sees I let you sleep on the floor," You chuckled into the warmth of his chest before finally sitting up, Wooyoung following you.
"you wanna go for a swim?" You smiled at him, not waiting for an answer, taking your shirt off and sliding into the heated pool. You swam to the middle, hearing a splash behind you, and turned around to see a now wet-haired Wooyoung following suit. You tried to ignore the fact that now he really reminded you of your dream - hair soaked, droplets dripping down his shimmering skin as his smile spread wide at you. You tried to swim away but your battle was quickly lost when you felt a hand grab your ankle and pull you under the water.
Your body flipped underwater, turning around to feel Wooyoung right above you. His hands came to your face and begged you to look in his eyes. You opened them to see his face inches from yours, and how desperate his eyes were to close the short distance between the two of you, and you were only a weak man. You pulled him down by the nape of his neck and joined your lips together and good lord, even underwater, it was still better than you imagined. Wooyoung broke the kiss after a few seconds and brought you back to the surface for air, not giving you long till he dived back in to kiss you once more, his hands begging to feel every inch of your waist and pull you towards him. The way his skin felt against yours felt hot and you needed more of it everywhere so desperately.
"Woo I need you," you whispered, trying to communicate with your eyes and praying he would understand.
"You have me, baby." His body moved you backwards, out of sight from the living room and windows, until your back hit the side of the pool. His mouth made its way to your neck, nipping at the skin before running his tongue over it. "Can I touch you?" He whispered into your ear, biting your earlobe.
You nodded into his shoulder, hungry for the feeling of his fingers in you. His hand slipped passed the waistband of your swim shorts, giving him straight access to you. His fingertip grazed up and down your slit, teasing your aching clit.
"Wooyoung please" You whined into his ear, deciding to take some sort of initiative and fidget with the strings of his shorts, tugging at them till he permitted you to touch.
"You wanna touch me, baby?" He grabbed your hand in his and slipped it into his shorts, letting you get a feel of the bottom of his stomach, hand slowly inching down till you reached the base of his girth. His other hand was still teasing your cunt, finally allowing one digit to slide into your hole. You moaned softly into his shoulder, writhing at the pleasure of feeling him in you, while still beating yourself up from missing out on this for so long.
As you were about to start stroking his cock you heard the back door open. You and Wooyoung shot your heads around to see who it was, quickly separating yourselves to not get caught. You heard the loud music bouncing throughout the house as a hoard of people spread out onto the porch, all ready to go for another swim, Vee carrying another speaker with her to liven up the night.
"What are you guys doing out here?" Vee shouted over the music, looking between the two of you with a shocked expression.
You looked at Wooyoung trying to formulate an answer, but you answered for him instead, "Oh, we were just talking… about stuff…" You watched her face try to decipher what you meant, but she came up short with answers. She could tell that both of you were stoned though, and honestly? She was grateful you were getting along, even if it was just for one night. Wooyoung watched Vee walk away, far enough before he asked you,
"Do you wanna go upstairs?" He pressed his body against you slightly, and you could feel how hard he was against your leg. His eyes were begging for this not to end here, and you didn't feel the need to argue for once in your life, So you dragged him to the ladder and got out first, ready with a towel for him once he got out so he could hide what was going on his shorts. Once he was out he clutched your hand in his own, pulling you through the house and up the stairs to the safety of his room. Before you could even react Wooyoung had you pressed up against the closed door, lips back on the underside of your jaw. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of his room. You had only been in here a handful of times, in which you'd never spent long enough to have a good look around the area. As you examined the room, your eyes zeroed in on the bong on his bedside table.
"You have a bong?" Your voice came out hoarse.
"Yeah, you ever..?" Wooyoung questioned.
You looked at him, "No… Can I?" He smiled at you and brought you over to his bed. The bong was already filled with fresh water, as Wooyoung packed the bowl, grabbed his lighter and held it to the bowl igniting it. He inhaled for a few seconds before pulling the bowl out, inhaling the rest of the smoke. He gave you a smug grin at your amazement and handed the bong over to you.
"So I'm gonna light it for you, and when I pull the bowl out, I'm gonna need you to inhale the rest of it or it'll leave stale smoke in the chamber, okay? now I'll let you do a little hit to get you started, just put your lips on it like I did, baby." His sugarcoated pet names had your stomach doing flips, but you stayed focused on the task at hand. Your lips met the mouthpiece and you waited for wooyoungs signal.
"Okay I'm lighting it, start inhaling gently…" You followed his instructions, feeling the water bubbling and the smoke enter your mouth. "Okay inhale fully," Wooyoung concentrated as he pulled the bowl out, you felt the fresh air clear the bong and go into your mouth. You took your mouth off of the bong and exhaled, feeling a cough climb out of your throat with the smoke - Wooyoungs hand instantly joined you to rub circles on your back, a little laugh coming from him at your suffering. After you laughed with him, "Let me try again, I won't cough this time-" Wooyoung suddenly kissed you quickly, making your body follow him as he pulled away.
"Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you again." He looked…Bashful? You had never seen this on him, and God it made him look hotter, I mean, really how did you not realise any of this? He brought the bong back to your mouth getting ready to light it once more. "You wanna do the same or a bigger hit?"
You tried to think through your already clouded mind, "Big." was all you were able to come out with, too busy staring at his pretty face. You put your lips to the bong and Wooyoung repeated the process, adding an extra second before pulling the bowl out for you. You felt slightly lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, laying back slowly to ground yourself, hearing Woo take a hit above you. As Wooyoung joined your side, Your mind started filling with all the dirty things you wanted to do with him, all the things you could do to make up for wasted time. Woo felt you sit up and throw a leg over his waist so you were straddling him.
"You know what you asked me earlier? About what my dream was about?" You leant down to his face and whispered in the shell of his ear. "It was about you. I was dreaming about you, looking all sexy fresh out of the shower, touching me." You looked at his face, hooded eyes but still surprised at your confession. You ground your hips down on his bulge, feeling his hard-on grow against you once again
"Y/n…" You halted your movements, shit, had you done too much? Before you could worry you felt his hips rise looking for the friction "Oh God please don't stop, y/n." His hands landed on your hips and pulled you back down, moving your hips with his own. He whimpered under you as you rolled your hips along him, thumbs massaging your flesh. His head tilted back and you took your chance to nip at the base of his throat, and began to suck, leaving a blooming mark in its wake. Your mouth needed to be busy, begging to have Woo in it any way you could have him. You left a trail of bites on his collarbone leading up to the underside of his jaw and ears, making him huff with each one.
"Mine," you whispered. He heard you. Your words sent him into overdrive as he sat up and flipped your bodies so you were now under him before he started tugging at your shorts.
"need these stupid things off," He mumbled finally getting them off you, leaving you completely exposed. "Can I eat you out? I really wanna taste you." He patiently waited for your response like a dog waiting for a treat. As soon as you nodded, cheeks blushed, He dived in and started to devour your aching cunt. His tongue was working magic against your hole, nose rubbing your clit deliciously as he moaned into you. You writhed against his mouth, hands gripping his hair to ground you because of the way he took you to cloud nine.
You could already feel the orgasm building as he greedily ate you out. His tongue worked against your clit as he added a digit to your soaked hole, moving it in and out in a steady rhythm, desperate to bring you over the edge before he finally fucked you senseless. He was barely taking breaks to breathe, ready to die if it meant he'd die face buried in your sweet cunt, the way you clenched around his finger was going to make him cum in his shorts at just the feeling. Both of your senses were heightened from the weed and the pleasure was a hundred times stronger than usual, you weren't sure you were gonna last long and Wooyoung could tell. "You gonna come on my fingers, baby?" He said, voice croaky as he added another finger, "Cum on my face pretty boy, I want to feel you on my tongue when you do."
Wooyoungs words sent your body over the edge, and you seized up as you let go, feeling Wooyoung sucking your clit while you rode it out on his fingers. He unlatched his mouth from you, feeling your body calm down, and slid his fingers out of you to see them soaked in your arousal. You watched him with hooded eyes as he licked the traces of you off of his fingers. Fuck, that sight alone could've brought you to an orgasm again.
"Gonna fuck your pretty hole now, baby" You moaned at his tone, pulling him to you so you could taste yourself in his mouth, tongues moving in unison. Once you had a good grip on him, you pulled him back onto the bed and stood up to pull his shorts down. You watch his hard cock spring out from them and licked your lips at the sight. You knew it was big, you could feel it but fuck, the way it glistened from the precum leaking out of his tip, made your desire to taste him grow one hundred times. You leaned down to his tip and gripped the base, before running your tongue across it and sinking down about halfway. He whined feeling your mouth around his hardness, it was heaven but, "I don't wanna cum in your mouth baby, want you on my cock now," He begged you, needing to feel you, to connect you.
You needed him just as badly, so you moved upwards so you could straddle him. You lifted your hips and hovered over his cock, holding it so you could get the angle right before slowly sinking down on him. You felt so full as he entered you, the stretch feeling the best you had ever felt. You knew nothing else would ever feel the way Wooyoung felt in you at that moment, you would never be able to take another cock that would feel as good as he did. His voice cracked as you finally bottomed out on him, staying there until you both adjusted to the feeling.
"Holy fuck, give me a second or I'll bust early" Wooyoung huffed out, his chest sinking and rising quickly as if he had forgotten to breathe, because well, he did. "Fuck baby, you feel so good, your boy cunt is mine, it's mine you're mine oh my god." Wooyoung babbled, his brain completely fried from how you clenched around him.
"You ready for me to move, baby?" You whispered to Wooyoung, receiving a nod from Wooyoung as you started slowly rocking your hips back and forth. The feeling of him reaching deep into you was pure bliss. Wooyoungs hands had a death grip on your hips, fingertips digging into your soft flesh, making you moan with each movement.
"Fuck Wooyoung, you feel so good, I don't know how long I can last," You could already feel yourself losing control of your sanity, but you weren't about to let this end so quickly. You lifted your hips to slam back down onto his cock, making him moan loudly. You kept this rhythm going and the pleasure was overwhelming, feeling the way he hit your g spot so nicely each time you bounced on him.
"Ah fuck, fuck you feel so fucking amazing holy fuck please don't stop," His praises kept fueling you to sink onto him deeper and deeper with each stroke. You both were losing your sanity together and it was fucking incredible, if Wooyoung was ready to die happy before, he was even more sure now that he was buried so deep in you that he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to leave you and the way you gripped his throbbing member. Your body ached to be filled by Wooyoungs cum, not ready to feel empty once he was done. You craved to feel full like this for as long as you were on this earth, while Wooyoung was by your side.
"Baby I'm not gonna last much longer, where do you want me to cum?" Wooyoung wheezed out between breaths.
"In me, please god please, I need you in me," You begged, speeding your pace up as Wooyoung reached to circle your clit.
"Are you sure?" He said worried.
"It's fine I'm on the pill, please Woo I need it." Wooyoung rocked his hips aggressively as his orgasm built up, yours ready to spill over the edge. His hand sped up on your clit and finally, your orgasm hit you like a truck, ripping a guttural moan from your chest. Wooyoung felt you clenching around him so hard that his own orgasm followed suit, His soul being snatched from him as you kept riding out yours.
Your body turned to jelly as you finished and you flopped down onto Woo's chest, hearing his heart racing against your ear.
"Fuck me." He gasped out, still trying to catch his breath, making you laugh.
"I literally just did Woo." He pinched your side in response, making you laugh more, your arms wrapping around him. You sat there until you had both calmed down, before sliding out of you. You could feel his cum leaking out of you and you whined at the loss as he moved you to the side of him so he could clean up.
"Sorry, baby I gotta clean you, and me up. I'll be two seconds." You watched him walk to his bathroom, damn he's got a nice ass, you thought to yourself, waiting for him to come back. Sure enough, he was quick, and back with a washcloth to clean you up. He was careful as he wiped you down, knowing you'd still be sensitive after two orgasms. He handed you some of his clothes to put on and excused himself to get the two of you some water.
"Where have you been? and where's y/n? I can't find him," Vee questioned Wooyoung as he reached the bottom of the stairs, noticing he had changed into sleep clothes despite the party still going.
"Don't tell me…" Vee thought about the circumstance, and the guilty look on Wooyoung's face.
"Did you fuck my best friend??" She watched the corners of Wooyoung's mouth curl up, and she knew she already had the answer.
"Sorry?" Wooyoung said very unapologetically as Vee punched him in the arm.
"If you ever hurt him I'll kill you, I do not care if you're my twin. I still have kyungmin, you hear me?" Vee said dead seriously, slightly scaring Wooyoung, but he couldn't help but make fun.
"I solemnly swear to never hurt y/n as long as I live, Seargent!" vee punched him one more getting ready to send a very long message to y/n.
Wooyoung arrived back upstairs, two bottles of water in his arms and a few munchies in the other.
"Oh you're a godsend Wooyoung- never thought I'd say that…" You laughed with Wooyoung as he plopped down next to you in bed, putting a movie on and cuddling up to you.
"Sorry, it took so long for us to be friends, Wooyoung. Woo." You sighed, avoiding eye contact with him now, guilt still eating away at you after everything.
"I don't want to be friends." Wooyoung declared, waiting for you to look at him. You shot your head around, confused and concerned.
"What? What do you mean?"
Wooyoung smiled before answering, " I've loved you too long just to be friends, y/n." Tears filled your eyes as you wrapped yourself around him, needing his warmth. "I love you y/n."
"Love you too."
AHHHH tysm if you made it to the end I hope you enjoyed!!! <33333333 thank you again for 500 followers !!!❤️
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i’ve had this in my notes for so long but smut with Price?Reader is a new recruit and Price took a personal liking to them.
Favortie - Captian John Price
Pairing: Captain John Price x Recruit!GN Reader MDNI
Warnings: Degrading words, Breeding kink??, Slight humilation, Quickiy?, After care, Smut-fluff. MDNI 18+!!
Honestly he thought it was just a small crush, it would probably go away after a couple of months. But it’s been 3 months and it’s still there. He despised himself for it. I mean you’ve only been there a short amount of time and he’s taken quite a liking. Other recruits even call you “Cap’s favorite” Not even your own name. He never denied the rumors and just let them poke fun at you because they weren’t wrong.
“They started it!!” “I didn’t even mean to bump into you, I said sorry and you hit me so I punched you.” Price was holding the bridge of his nose as he looked across his desk,he looked at you,you looked calm and collected and the girl next to you had a black eye and a bloody nose. “Alright, alright. Just be careful next time.” “Will do Cap.” “THAT’S IT? I HAVE A BLACK EYE AND-" "You started it by hitting em’.” And with that she angrily got up and mumbled. “Only because they're your favorite, I’m done.” You rolled your eyes and watched her leave.
You looked at your captain as you began to get up, he stopped you. “We actually need to talk.” “Hm?” “Come back here, 12:30 A.M. sharp.” You looked at him confused but just nodded as you walked out, you wondered what he could want.
It was 12:32 A.M. and you knocked on his office door quietly in case anyone was awake. He opened the door for you and motioned for you to come inside, you took a seat at the usual seat across his desk and he sat at his. “So…What did you need this late at night?” “For no one to be awake, strip.” Your eyes widened noticing he was completely serious “What? I’m sorry-” “Well I figured since you wanna act like a brat, I should treat you like one, yeah?” You gulped a bit and rubbed your thighs together as you unbutton your pants. You felt so embarrassed exposing yourself like this. And he just watched. “When you're done, bend over my desk, be good.” You just nodded and finished undressing and bent over before him as he stood up and licked 2 fingers and shoved it into your tight hole. He watched you squirm. He chuckled darkly, like something you’ve never heard before. “Well now what’s the problem? I always let you off easy and now you act up again hm? You trying to get my attention baby?” In all honesty it was, but it was sure as hell shameful admitting that I mean he was twice your age and you’re thinking about him like that? Entirely inappropriate. But what you’re doing right now? Lets pray no one hears you.
“Mhm! All for you attention m’sorry please…Need more.” He chuckled at your response as he pulled out his fingers and you whined. “Oh poor baby I'm so sorry, you’ll only be empty for a minute.” Was he mocking you right now? But you had little to no time as he slammed his full length into you. It was painful and it stretched you out. You winced in pain but he let you adjust for a moment.
Once you gave him the go ahead nod he went at it hitting every spot you needed with ease as your hollow and low moans were let out into the room he covered your mouth with his hand and tugged at your hair.
“Do you want everyone to hear who’s making you feel so good, Hm?” You nodded your head yes and with that he slapped your ass, hard enough to leave a handprint but you’ll worry about that later. You were about to finish and he noticed so he let you and he came soon after.
His cum leaked out of your hole and he chuckled as he wrapped a blanket around you and picked you up. “You’ll stay in my bedroom tonight, anyone asks you’re gonna tell ‘em you’re sick yeah?” “Mhm..” “Good.” He opened the door and laid you down on the bed as he got a warm rag and cleaned you up. He then laid down with you and whispered sweet praises to you until you eventually fell asleep. He smiled to himself and fell asleep with you shortly after.
This wasn't proof-read I'm too tired sorry <3, I hope you enjoy !!
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